Word: leaded
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...white peaks of the boiling thunderclouds below as a pair of silver-and-orange F8U Crusader jet fighters streaked smoothly down the Carolina coast on the return leg of a high-altitude flight to Boston. Lieut. Colonel William Henry Rankin, U.S.M.C., sitting under the curved glass canopy of the lead jet, took his two-plane flight over an angry anvil of cloud, sat back casually as his eye ran across the instrument panel. Altitude: 47,000 feet. True air speed: 500 knots. It was a crisp, sunlit flight, and the only problem in sight was to bore down through...
...read to reporters as he emerged from a closed-door session with 45 U.S. Governors, meeting last week in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Behind the doors Dulles provided some classified details to back up the most serious proposal before the annual Governors' conference: U.S. Governors should take the lead in getting their citizens to build nuclear-fallout bomb shelters, since a nationwide system of private shelters would blunt the effectiveness of nuclear blackmail, would save millions of lives and ensure the survival of the U.S. itself in case of nuclear attack...
...only one trip through the belts before falling into orbit around the sun. Several devices in Explorer VI are studying the belts' range and fluctuating intensities. In one experiment, high-energy particles are measured by a 2-in. cube that holds seven tiny, gas-filled cylinders shielded with lead. The particles' passage ionizes the gas, creates electrical impulses of varying strength that are transmitted to earth...
From the start, the race was a duel between Stead in Maverick, owned by Phoenix's Bill Waggoner, and Muncey in Miss Thriftway, owned by Seattle Grocery King (Thriftway Stores) Bill Rhodes. Going into the final heat, Maverick had a 700-625 point lead. All Stead had to do was finish a fast third...
...comes whooping and whipping out of the starting gate, a pale-faced kid who fights for the lead right at the start so that no challenger will spoil his view of the pot of gold waiting at the finish line. His body high and forward, weight over the horse's withers, boots in two of the shortest stirrups in racing, he is a jockey in a hurry. He is strong enough to ride all afternoon, and he applies the measure of cold cash, not sentiment, to his work. Shrugs Jockey Bob Ussery (rhymes with fussery): "If I ride...