Word: iron-grey
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...Irish Catholic Ed Flynn was born, reared, schooled (at Fordham University) in New York City's teeming Borough of The Bronx. He is a graduate cum laude of the seamy school of politics. But no seams show on Edward J. Flynn. At 48 he is trimly built, iron-grey, dresses even more splendidly than Jersey City's Boss Frank Hague. Blackest spot that Boss-Buster Tom Dewey could find on Ed Flynn was the fact that when he was Sheriff of The Bronx (1921-25) one of his deputies was Gangster Arthur ("Dutch Schultz") Flegenheimer (who had much...
...first head of the GHQ Air Force as temporary Major General, went back to a colonelcy when his tour of duty was over, came back as a permanent brigadier general of the line. A top-flight pilot at 56, Frank Andrews still flies his own plane, pokes his iron-grey head into thick weather along with the youngsters of the Air Corps...
...audience asked the President if he was now describing the "Lambert Plan." No, said the President; the plan he was sketching would be worked out in final form shortly but had as yet no special name. Nevertheless, reporters knew that before the President's press conference a lean, iron-grey, mustachioed gentleman had attended an earlier session with the President, Secretary Morgenthau and Under-Secretary of the Treasury Hanes, Administrator Stewart McDonald and other officials of FHA. After the President's conference, so many reporters telephoned the iron-grey gentleman that his boss, Stewart McDonald, called...
...iron-grey hair flying, his firm jaws clenched, Conductor Artur Rodzinski mounted a podium in Manhattan's Rockefeller Center one day last week, and with a brisk downbeat of his baton started a new orchestra through its paces. He soon exclaimed: "Marvelous! The strings are fantastically fine. ... I doubt if there has ever been assembled anywhere, at any time, a new orchestra that promises so much for the future...
...well after 11 before husky, broad-shouldered Governor Landon, his collar-ends flapping and his short, iron-grey hair rumpled, showed up at his office in the State House for his 11 o'clock press conference. Seven newshawks were waiting for him. "Well, well, look who's here," twanged the Governor, a wide smile crinkling his plain, friendly face. "Top o' the mornin' to you all." Slouched back in his chair, brown eyes half-closed behind his octagonal rimless spectacles, the Governor talked about the weather, a fishing trip he planned to take, the lack...