Word: lunch
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...chartered airplane last week flew a ten-man delegation from the Republican National Committee for a conclave about as suspenseful as an American League pennant race. At the Augusta National Golf Club the travelers were welcomed by a tanning and smiling Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower, sat down for lunch with the President in the whitebrick, four-pillared Mamie's Cabin near Augusta's tenth fairway. Over lunch the group got down to business. Connecticut's Meade Alcorn was retiring as national chairman (TIME, April 13), Kentucky's Senator Thruston B. Morton had been mentioned to succeed...
...Herald Tribune, I journeyed to Tokyo just after the war with a group of newsmen, and even then we could sense the profound postwar change coming over the Japanese people. What we could not see in our limited visit we learned directly from General MacArthur, who invited us to lunch at the American embassy. The farseeing general predicted to us then-in 1946-that the Japanese traditional way of life would soon become a thing of the past. How true his prediction was, and how well TIME has shown this in its pages...
...capable personal assistant Joseph N. Greene called the State Department, got a 15-minute briefing, passed it along to his boss. "Well," said Dulles at one briefing's end, "let's go for a swim." After an hour in the pool, Dulles was ready for a light lunch: sandwich, glass of high-protein milk...
...Laurie Perry) Cookingham, 62, hired by the reform Citizens Association when it took over in 1940. In the pre-1940 high-flying days of Tom Pendergast's corrupt rule, after-hours liquor sales were a big business, and so were gambling and prostitution; the businessman's lunch hour at the popular Chesterfield Club on Ninth Street was famous for its stark-naked waitresses. City Manager Cookingham cleaned up the town, got going on new roads, schools, sewers, etc., created an environment that brought new industry and new, if less spectacular, vitality to the city. In so doing, Cookingham...
Home in Arequipa in the southern Peruvian Andes, Olmedo was riotously paraded, speeched and kissed. He got time for only one much interrupted lunch at the little apartment on the International Club grounds where his father is combination caretaker and tennis professional and where "Alejo"-as he is called at home-grew up. Over his favorite dish, roast guinea hen, his mother sighed, "We have not seen much of you, and now you are leaving again. But I will be brave and will not cry." That afternoon, as she stood waiting for the plane that carried Alejo back...