Word: glared
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...Leigh R. Murphy of United Air Lines, flying mail & passengers between Newark and Cleveland, found what he called record visibility for the route. At one time he could see eleven beacons, spaced ten miles apart. At 6,000 ft. above Allentown, Pa., he reported he could see simultaneously the glare from the lights of Philadelphia, Trenton and New York, 100 mi. away...
...eaves and pitched the rain against dirty windows. But for all the dying man knew of the storm, he heard it not, for he was deaf. It was enough to know that the gods were angry, that Beethoven was dying. He raised himself on his elbow and, in the glare of a spray of lightning, shook his first to the skies and became immortal...
...under bright sunlight. These matches are shot under like regulations with the standard U. S. Military Springfield 30 calibre: 50 rounds rapid and slow-fire at 200 yd., rapid-fire at 300 yd., slow-fire at 600 yd., 100 rounds slow-fire at 1,000 yd. Squinting in the glare, 1,727 contestants sooted their sights with candles, tightened their slings, commenced firing at 5:50 a. m. over glistening grass. When the last shot cracked out, split the target, was marked by the pitmen and valued by the statistical officer, the winner became known. He was Lieut. Emerald...
Because they usually bring home more than their share of trophies, the Marines are called "pot-hunters." Accustomed to Central American rain and slime, they did not seem to mind the early bad weather, won more cups than any other unit. Equally acclimatized to tropic sun glare, they won the team match for the second consecutive year, for the eleventh time. The only branch that consistently gives the Marines a run for their money is the Infantry, which still holds the match record of 2,838 out of a possible 3,000, established...
...slow, soft breathing of 250 infirm old men and women asleep one night last week in the Pittsburgh dormitories of the Little Sisters of the Poor suddenly broke off into gags, coughs, smoke-stifled cries. Fire billowed up through the peaked roof of the Catholic home. Its glare lighted wrinkled faces twisted with fear and despair. Crippled old men thumped their canes on the floor for help. Aged women forgot their slippers and wrappers as the black-robed nuns herded them into a crawling, shuffling line down the rickety fire escapes. Querulous prayers rose in the darkness to blend with...