Word: hadn
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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While other local dancing instructors remained oblivious to the opportunities that might open to them-"Professor" Ritter said last night that he "hadn't thought about it yet"-the Murray studio had already filed its application...
...himself, as his eyes wandered up the steps of Widener after the Radcliffe girl ahead of him. Vag thought of all the letters he'd had warning him about the perils of readjustment to civilian life, all the orientation lectures on the subject he'd sweated through. Actually, it hadn't been too bad. Not bad at all. In the beginning, hitting the books at night had proved difficult, and Vag had found himself headed for Boston every other night in the first few weeks of the term. The nightly fifth-of-whiskey-and-a-woman routine gets ingrained after...
...Army must have done it. The Great Di Maggio, who once made news if he showed up for any spring hitting at all, hadn't changed much physically. The sheen of his black hair was flecked with grey; his weight (a prewar 205) was down to 190. But his disposition, like his ulcers, was better. He still knew that he was the greatest baseball player alive, but now he talked as if he were only as good in his business as many others are in theirs. He no longer called himself the "Great Di Maggio," now resented conceit...
...dawned warm and windless. By 8:30, the hot chestnut men were out. Hawkers barking blue dolls (royal blue for Oxford, light blue for Cambridge), windmills and crossed-oar badges took up stands they hadn't filled since the last Boat Race Day, seven years ago. By 11, just before high tide, when the Thames is quiet and indulgent, a half-million Londoners had lined both sides of the Thames's tow-paths as their fathers & grandfathers had before them, off & on, for 117 years. Almost everybody brought hampers of food, and some brought stepladders. It was England...
...white families, were out at a burial. When they saw the lights, they "didn't want to be accountable for borrowed property. . . . They started stepping on the gas." They brought back to Blakesburg "the smell of burning rubber tires, hot engines with radiators boiling over. . . . And all who hadn't gotten lost or wrecked on the highways hunted for the car owners on the Blakesburg streets. Their hurrying home to go into eternity from their native city was a touching scene to the white citizens, who faced with them for the first time, equality of Death and impartiality...