Word: lungingly
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...theater world last week honored the team's legacy in a memorial for Lerner, who died of lung cancer on June 14 at age 67. Some 1,500 people gathered at Broadway's Shubert Theater for an 80-minute service of anecdotes, reminiscences and, above all, songs. John Cullum reprised his title number from On a Clear Day You Can See Forever (1965). Meg Bussert and Martin Vidnovic, stars of a 1980 Broadway revival of Brigadoon, performed Almost Like Being in Love. Julie Andrews sang Lerner's favorite non-Lerner showstopper, If Love Were All, from Noel Coward's Bitter...
...century after he ceased to be a major force in reporting and analyzing the news. Murrow made his reputation covering war and challenging demagoguery. He burnished it by losing battles to commercialism and belatedly denouncing his betrayers. He died young: he was 57 when he succumbed to the lung cancer brought on by a four-pack-a-day cigarette habit, a vice he could not kick even while actually on air reporting the dire effects of smoking. His early death only heightened his romantic aura. HBO's docudrama Murrow, which aired in January, all but shouted that when he died...
...staying away from one's own birthday party." Meanwhile, the Soviet newspaper Pravda ran a front-page story attacking Karmal's failure to build a stable base of support for his Communist regime. Rumors had it that the Afghan chieftain was visiting the Soviet Union for treatment of a lung problem or leukemia. But many observers suspected that his problems were more than medical...
...woman who was to become its most controversial feminist met the professional criminal who was to become its most controversial playwright. "The conversation was most agreeable," said Jean-Paul Sartre. Last week, nearly six years after Sartre's death, his longtime companion Simone de Beauvoir, 78, died of a lung ailment. The next day Jean Genet, 75, succumbed to throat ! cancer. Said Premier Jacques Chirac, inarguably...
...described himself as "a thin, curly little person, smoking too (many) cigarettes, with a crocked lung," and shrugged off his mysterious illness as his destiny: "A born writer is born scrofulous; his career is an accident dictated by physical or circumstantial disabilities." He stressed his dedication to a pure but unrewarding craft: "Poetry wouldn't keep a goldfinch alive." And he professed to be above the battle to support himself. "There is no necessity for the artist to do anything," he lectured her. "He is a law unto himself...