Word: gloom
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...most others it is the weekly trip to the Unemployment Compensation Services office on Taylor Avenue North, where the queues form well before 8 a.m. in the early-morning gloom. Business has been so heavy that the agency had to take more office space earlier this month. In the beginning of the crisis, many people who had lost employment moved away: the demand for U-Haul trailers was so great in May and June that rental agencies ran out of equipment. But thousands are still hanging on, unwilling to give up life near Puget Sound and the now snow-covered...
...dawned cold and cloudy in the Baltic seaport of Gdansk-a morning of gloom that matched the city's mood. Gdansk (pop. 370,000) had seethed for days with resentment at the Polish government's sudden announcement of a dramatic rise in food prices, the more infuriating since it came just before Christmas. Now, at the Lenin Shipyards, grumbling workers spontaneously protested the hike by refusing to work. Before long, they decided to emphasize their anger by marching from the yards to Communist Party headquarters two miles away. Thus began a week of rioting and death that surpassed...
Through the early part of the year, inflation psychology kept its grip on the minds of investors and businessmen. Then, in the space of a month, two events turned the mood from hope to gloom and brought the nation closer to financial panic than at any time since the 1930s...
...detective was saying "The person we want for murder is . . ." Parliament debated, and the Queen took afternoon tea, by candlelight. Millions of homes were without heat, electricity or hot water for long periods, and whole areas of London resembled the capital during the wartime blitz. Darkness and gloom had descended on Britain because 125,000 Electrical Trades Union (E.T.U.) workers had decided to stage a slowdown. It was so effective that at any given moment during the week a quarter of Britain was without electricity...
Photographer David Douglas Duncan, whose War Without Heroes was published last week (Harper & Row; 252 pages; $14.95), has managed to recapture the war in all its grisly tedium. Looking deceptively like a cocktail-table art book, Duncan's gloom-shrouded pictures of American fighting men are packed more with fatigue than fight. There are no heroic actions; men shave, take muddy baths, clean up after shellbursts, write letters, stare vacantly at absolutely nothing while waiting for the next pointless action. The photographs have the stink of death, the feel of futility and, on any cocktail table, far surpass alcohol...