Word: lynne
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...women's squad, unable to compete when Northeastern could find no women willing to face the Crimson, nonetheless "performed admirably," Morrison said, in their first public exhibition. Anne Harrington, Marcia Hyslop, Virginia Santos-Newman, Lynn Toler and Shelley Taylor "were in front of real judges, with real scores, and they did really well," Morrison said...
Bradshaw quickly went to work, and after Rocky Bleier ran up the middle for a Steeler first down, the quarterback found wide receiver Lynn Swann all alone at the Ram's 18-yard-line and hit him with a perfect pass...
...anyone who got seriously injured was likely to be strapped into a canoe for a bumpy 20-mile ride down the lumber flume to the Marysville hospital. Those less ill were treated by the Widow Griffith-until she died at the age of 98. Says Marysville's Dr. Lynn Frink: "They would come in with half their face eaten away with a cancer that could have been treated successfully three years ago; or they'd be in bad shape from heart disease when all they needed was digitalis. If they should have been treated months before, you could...
There were happier things too, about Dreamland--nights in cars with girls whose names were Diana Leigh and Valerie Lynn, girls whose names ran together if their faces did not; of hunting in crisp mornings for pheasant and grouse on ground that crackled as you walked over it. But Dreamland remained gray; gray shadows broken and heightened by little bands of neon, when the Bells of the past spoke to Thomas Scott Bell at Harvard, calling in his own mind to him above the clutter and emotion of being tremendously alone in a tone of evil desperation...
...frozen night in late September 1978. Every game meant extinction for the Sox. The Tigers at Fenway. Torrez looks great and preserves a 2-1 lead thanks to a Rice homer. With a man on second--forget who--a Tiger--forget who--singles sharply up the middle. Fred Lynn charges, scoops, throws, watches and jumps up like a little kid when the umpire grunts...