Word: glared
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...satisfied with the modest architectural glories of 1874, or even with imitation Gothic? With a little imagination and more funds the true splendors of the Middle Ages could be recalled. The glare of electric lights should be replaced by the romantic and less expensive flicker of torches. Mass produced desks and chairs are an anachronism; more in keeping would be oaken banquet tables and hand wrought benches. Crossed lances and suits of armor would be more appealing than flags and plaques. In keeping with the medieval atmosphere, the psychological laboratories in the basement should become dungeons and the white mice...
Harvard to Hollywood. Edwin ("Din") Land, now a handsome, boyish-looking 46, was a physics student at Harvard when he quit to form his own company in 1932 to market his first major invention, a plastic that filters the glare out of light rays. During World War II, Polaroid Corp. did a $16 million-a-year business making glare-proof gunsights and sunglasses and other products for the armed forces. But by 1948 gross sales were down to $1,481,372 (net loss: $865,256). Land's camera snapped Polaroid into the black again (1949 profit...
...Land firmly believes that creative invention is a "one-man operation," until he is convinced a new product is nearly ready to market. Then his team moves in. One of biggest potential developments: a sys tem of polarized auto windshields and leadlight lenses that, in combination, take the glare out of night driving. One big obstacle: since the super-brilliant lights used in the Polaroid system would require new headlight and windshield glass for all the 60 million-odd cars...
...Pratt. "As children, we were never allowed to be photographed." Her father, the late William Woodward, was a topflight U.S. banker, a figure in authentic Manhattan society and, as master of Belair Stud (Gallant Fox, Omaha), one of the most widely respected sportsmen on two continents. Last week the glare of worldwide publicity beat in a way it never had before on the Woodward family. Had the wife of William Woodward Jr. deliberately shot him in that darkened hallway in their Long Island home? Was it an accident? Was there a connection between his death and the gaudy life...
Forty-five steps below Massachusetts Avenue is a world where wind, sun, and week-end rain never penetrate. Row on row of bare bulbs cast their glare on shadowy caverns. The only moisture to reach the tile and litter clings loosely to the windows and roofs of swaying trolley cars...