Word: lapped
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...farther she swam, the San Francisco blonde won the 220-yd. final in second gear, had even less trouble taking the 440. Her rival in, the 100-yd. dash was beauteous, brunette Champion Brenda Helser. But Ann's single-mindedness paid off: she sprinted from behind the final lap and finished 18 inches ahead...
George Patton was sitting in his headquarters van, his high-polished cavalry boots cocked on the glass top of his desk, his long-fingered hands relaxed in his lap. He listened now & then over his command radio to battle reports. They were good. His tankmen were rampaging around, deep in Germany, on the loose and on the prowl, raiding and rolling on. Patton could turn off the radio and turn on one of his favorite topics of conversation: the Civil War battle of Fredericksburg. Willie, the General's white bull terrier, snuffed sleepily...
...trees over the streets, a Methodist Church where Marvin got converted in a whirlwind revival campaign, the drugstore where he got his first job. There was a big house owned by rich people where Marvin learned to dance, and where the daughter of the family sat on his lap in the living room after school. Not far away was an obscure building disguised as a fortuneteller's establishment, where hoarse-voiced prostitutes introduced Marvin...
Perhaps Marshal Stalin had decided that the most stubborn fact of all was his allies' inability to decide what to do in Europe. Perhaps he thought that if he simply waited while his armies drove on, all Europe, including Germany, might eventually drop into his lap because there was nowhere else for it to drop. But his allies, too, were driven by a historic force, for they knew that if they failed to persuade Joseph Stalin to a united peace, even their united military victory would be a defeat...
...Chicago last year, Hahn and Dodds - with the Lord's help - ran the world's fastest indoor mile. Hahn plotted the race lap by lap, eleven of them, scribbled the fractional times on paper. Dodds studied them religiously. Then Hahn stood at the starting line in Chicago's Stadium, stop watch in hand, yelled out the minutes and seconds, each time his runner pounded past. At the start of the final lap : "Three-forty-four. You're behind, Gil!" The collaborating pair missed their plotted 4:06 mile by four-tenths of a second...