Word: hawthorn
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...from Ascari to Musso. Spain's dashing Alfonso de Portago was killed in 1957, and Argentina's five-time world champion, aging (47) Juan Manuel Fangio, announced this summer that he is retiring. Today, dominance in racing belongs to the British, especially to flaxen-haired, temperamental Mike Hawthorn, 29, and balding, easygoing Stirling Moss, 28. The two are battling head-to-head for the world driving championship...
...Roaring into a curve in Rheims's Grand Prix de France, Italy's Luigi Musso was a mere 100 yds. behind Britain's Mike Hawthorn. Musso gunned his Ferrari, hit the curve at 140 m.p.h., catapulted off the triangular course into a wheatfield, died. He was the last of Italy's great three. Alberto Ascari was killed in 1955; Eugenio Castellotti, Musso's closest friend and rival...
...Opera House and Lucius Beebe's Territorial Enterprise. Around Reno, candidates for grass widowhood whiled away their residence on dude ranches. Along Las Vegas' gaudy Strip, vacationers pumped the slot machines and queued up for ten-course $1.25 lunches. And at a state convention in Hawthorn (pop. 3,700), Nevada's Democratic Party was practically taken over lock, stock and barrel by one of the most remarkable new figures in U.S. politics: Errett Lobban Cord, sometime Wall Street tycoon and longtime millionaire recluse, now turned glad-handing vote chaser...
...total of 16 racing cars scrambled into the start of the 105-lap, 205-mile Grand Prix of Monaco. Only four laps later Britain's Stirling Moss, Peter Collins and Mike Hawthorn somehow escaped uninjured from a three-car pile-up on a barricade of telephone poles. All afternoon the accidents continued, but no one was hurt. Only five cars finished. Still, World Champion Juan Fangio had to push his Maserati to the limit to cross the line in 3 hr. 10 min. 12.8 sec., a scant half-minute ahead of Briton Tony Brooks's Vanwall...
Rolling wide into the turns, he would sweep to the inner edge of the track, then drift wide again as he blasted out into the brief straightaways. Each lap he picked up precious seconds. At 8 in the evening, Hawthorn's Jag coasted into the pits. "Brakes!" said the disgusted driver; the sleek grey car was through...