Word: laying
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...wife Ethel often said, "I think he's brilliant," but his assets lay more in a sharp intelligence, a fierce energy, and an ability to give and attract devotion and to surround himself with brilliance. Almost from the day of his brother's inauguration, Hickory Hill, the historic estate in Virginia that once belonged to President John, became an institution that the capital will sorely miss...
...Peace Corps so that people in all walks of life would try to help one another. He was ambitious, but not for himself. He ended his musing: "I don't know what I'll do if I'm not elected President." As his body lay in St. Patrick's Cathedral, there was agreement on one point. Whoever became President would always have known that Robert Kennedy was around. So would the nation. So would the world...
...Guardian declared that the "seeds" of Kennedy's death lay not only in the Arab-Israeli conflict, but also in "the sickness of American society," in the Viet Nam war and even in the Nigeria-Biafra conflict. "It did not matter if Senator Kennedy's assailant was first believed to be a Mexican, and then a Cuban and then an Arab," said the Montreal Star, adding: "The fact remains that in Harlem and Watts and every other Negro community . . . 'they' [assassins] exist as perpetual enemies, while the one figure who might have provided hope was removed...
...lost blood during the 23 minutes he lay in the pantry hallway at the Ambassador Hotel. During the four-minute ride to Central Receiving, Kennedy continued to bleed heavily, and though the attendant was able to give him oxygen, he could do nothing about his failing heartbeat. At the hospital, General Practitioner V. Faustin Bazilauskas and Surgeon Albert Holt found Kennedy in extremis, his blood pressure "zero over zero," his heartbeat almost imperceptible. "Bob! Bob! Bob!" Bazilauskas shouted, slapping his face repeatedly. There was no response...
...will you remember about your senior year at Harvard? The gloom of December when the war got worse, when draft calls increased, when your thesis tumbled from your frostbitten fingers like a heavy stone and the future looked as dead as the icy eyes on a frozen pigeon which lay in the trash claws outstretched, stiff, scratching the clouds--too cold to even interest the maggots...