Word: lawns
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About 300 laughing and dancing students are crowded in Wreston Quad, standing in tight clusters on the lawn outside the frat houses. The dance remix, "My Heart Will Go On," is blasting from a third-story frat window, and students are chugging beers and ignoring the nearby police, who seem content to munch on pizza and watch the party...
Just how Drew Golden and Mitch Johnson became partners is still a mystery. The Goldens live 2 1/2 miles away at 210 Royale Drive, an address that asserts its respectability with a sunflower-painted mailbox and a stone squirrel poised next to a tiny fountain on the front lawn. "The families didn't know each other, and they don't know how the boys know each other," says William Howard, Mitchell's court-appointed attorney. Says Alisha Golden, who used to sit next to Drew (no relation) in English class, "Mitch and Drew were not friends. They didn't hang...
...speechwriting in the Reagan White House was Bently Elliott, and Ben's secretary was a woman in her early 20s named Donna. She adored Reagan. When he came back from long trips, when his helicopter landed on the White House lawn, the sound and whirr of the engine and blades would make our offices shake. We'd all stop and listen. Donna would call out, spoofing the mother in a '50s sitcom, "Daddy's home!" But you know, that's how I think a lot of people felt when Reagan was in the White House: Daddy's home. A wise...
...river houses. And yes, there is red brick here: Cabot and Pforzheimer have something of the old Harvard charm on the outside, with the added plus of an interior chockfull of modern amenities. No, there's no river view, but there is the Quadrangle itself, an inviting stretch of lawn that's great for field sports, especially Ultimate Frisbee...
Over Nob Hill and the Harvard Yard, across Washington's broad avenues and Pittsburgh's thrusting chimneys, in a thousand towns and villages, the bells began to toll. In Caracas, Venezuela, a lone Marine sergeant strode across the lawn of the U.S. embassy while a soft rain fell, saluted the flag, then lowered it to half-mast. At U.S. bases from Korea to Germany, artillery pieces boomed out every half hour from dawn to dusk in a stately, protracted tattoo of grief...