Word: holte
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Gone Like a Leaf. Taking a weekend off after the strain of a Senate election campaign and the devaluation of the British pound, Holt jumped into his red 1967 Pontiac and drove 59 miles from Melbourne to a small, white hilltop beach home he had built in the southern seaside town of Portsea on Port Phillip Bay. Though his doctors had warned him against swimming because of a slight muscular complaint, Holt felt that the sea air and the relaxation would do him good. So early on an overcast Sunday morning, he picked up four friends-Portsea Neighbors Alan Stewart...
...Prime Minister must be a lot fitter than we are," Stewart quipped to the others. "There he goes, striding along like Marco Polo." Holt strolled down the beach and dived into the chill waters. "If Mr. Holt can take it," Stewart said, "I'd better go in too." He went for a dip but, discouraged by the condition of the water, quickly returned to the others. By now, the tide had turned and was rushing out. As he swam, his head bobbing above the waves, Holt was carried farther and farther out into a broad stretch of swirling water...
Delayed Impact. Stewart dashed down the beach, searching for some sign of Holt, then scrambled up on a rock for a better look. Seeing nothing, he ran to Holt's car and drove two miles to a nearby army barracks, where he telephoned for help. Helicopters, light planes, boats and launches soon spiderwebbed the area in the greatest search in Australia's history. Skindivers plunged deep below the surface. Flying in from Canberra, Zara Holt walked for hours along the beach, keeping her own lonely vigil and suggesting a few places where searchers might look for the body...
...world like the slam of a bullet. At first, there was disbelief. Such things just did not happen in affable, easy-going Australia, and certainly not to its Prime Minister. What astonished many was that the ruler of so large a nation should go about so casually and unguarded. Holt had neither wanted nor received any secret-service protection-an individualistic privilege that no other Prime Minister is likely to enjoy. Not until long hours after Holt's disappearance did the numbing awareness of truth finally set in. The full impact arrived only when television cameras mounted on windy...
...escaped the deep, ° paralyzing sense of loss for the plucky little Aussie who i! had made good. The son of a theatrical promoter, Holt lost his mother at 16, studied law before drifting into politics, then began a 30-year political apprenticeship under autocratic Liberal Party Leader Sir Robert Menzies. Coming up through the ranks, Holt was named minister without portfolio at 32, privy councillor at 45, deputy leader of the party at 48. Then, at 57, when Menzies retired, Holt became party leader and Prime Minister...