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Conjury and hypnosis are ancient Hollywood trades, and they have made many a local citizen rich. Small wonder, then, that Hollywood royalty steals reverently these nights to the cave of an Amazonian blonde who has, with a glare of her Nefertiti eyes, stretched Steve Allen and Linda Christian board-rigid across chairs in cataleptic trances. "Nobody can follow her," says Screenwriter Stanley (Pillow Talk) Shapiro reverently. "Not even Frank Sinatra...
Cleopatra. In scarlet letters volted with excitement the notorious name hung throbbing and enormous in the night sky over Broadway. Beneath it 10,000 rubberneckers milled on the macadam and roared at the famous faces in the glare. One by one, smiles popping like flashbulbs, they disappeared in the direction of the screen. What did it hold for them? Surely no Shavian conversation piece could conceivably have cost all that money. Surely no noble Shakespearean poem could possibly be recited by Elizabeth Taylor. No, Cleopatra was bound to be one of those colossal Things that periodically come charging...
...sticks, bottles-some filled with gasoline-flew back and forth across the police line. A Negro girl dropped to the sidewalk when a rock struck her on the head. A photographer for the High Point (N.C.) Enterprise, Art Richardson, 24, set himself to snap a picture, collapsed in the glare of his own flashbulb. He had been shot in the back. From a Negro apartment building came furious shouts: "Tell the white people to get back or we'll start shooting!" The white men stayed. Bullets began to ricochet off the pavement, spurting sparks as they hit. The thunder...
...Target. Shielded from the sun's glare by a special awning at the White Sands Missile Range, he saw an Army Honest John missile land directly on target in a burst of phosphorescence 71/2 miles away and a Nike Hercules intercept a sister missile overhead. Then off to the Navy's show-sub hunters firing rocket-launched torpedoes and Phantom fighters screaming above the carrier Kitty Hawk at the speed of sound to fire their Sparrow III missiles with deadly accuracy...
What started as a "panty raid" on Harvard Houses by a small group of 'Cliffies snowball into a massive demonstration in the Radcliffe Quad last night. In the glare of red and blue police lights and photographer's flash bulbs, over a thousand study-weary students laid seige to the Radcliffe dormitories, demanding female under-clothing and companionship...