Word: hook
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Fish Hook. No newsman, he seemed certain, would ever know such high old times again. He paid his own respects to the times by putting together The Night Club Era, a book that sorrowed over the boozy glamour of "the good old days" in New York, and Mrs. Astor's Horse, a hard-eyed appreciation of the city's café society...
Fortnight ago, in a Houston hospital, Walker, 64, was told that the "fish hook" that burned in his throat was cancer. Facing surgery to remove his larynx, and chilled by the shadows he saw, he made his choice. He phoned an aged and loyal pal in New York. "Get my obituary ready." he said. Next morning, his wife Ruth, returning from an errand, saw him on the porch of the cabin where he kept his books and his shotgun. Would he like a lift to the main house? "No," said Stanley Walker. "You come back a little later." When...
West Germany's Rheingold Express also uses spiffiness and speed (100 m.p.h. at times) to lure passengers on its run from Basel to Hook of Holland. Tourists can ogle the Rhineland from picture-window observation cars and, as on all German trains, eat a full-course gourmet meal for about $2.25. Now West Germany's state-run Bundesbahn is aiming for 125-m.p.h. service. In France the Mistral, which once hit 206 m.p.h. for the world's record, rolls along at an easier 80 m.p.h. or so from Paris to Lyon. Together with Austria and Switzerland...
Seaton, who served as Eisenhower's Secretary of Interior, is determined to keep Morrison on the national Democratic hook. "Governor Morrison denies outside influences, but still gets the post office patronage and testifies in Washington for New Frontier programs," Seaton argues. A Morrison victory, he says, would mean "a Kennedy bridgehead in the heartland of the Midwest." Happy to get outside help, Seaton was benefited by a spirited Eisenhower appearance in Omaha...
...install himself as the new king of a tarnished sport. He accomplished it without even trying. A series of deceptively mild left jabs pried Patterson out of his peekaboo crouch. Three times the ineffectual champion attempted to clinch; contemptuously Listen shoved him away. At last, Liston bounced a left hook off Patterson's head, followed it with a chopping right to the heart. Patterson lurched dazedly back into the ropes, rubbing his right eye with his thumb, unable to fight, or even to run. Another ponderous left and he was out. His eyes glazed, his hands pawing feebly...