Word: manhattan
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...hurricane of charges and countercharges whirled through Manhattan's Waldorf-Astoria last week while pickets chanted, prayed and shouted on the sidewalks outside. At the storm's center, 2,800 delegates to the Cultural and Scientific Conference for World Peace-Communists and both calculating and befuddled followers-wallowed in a sea of windy "peace" talk. In all the tumult, the delegates and their gusts of fog-laden dialectics could at first hardly be heard...
...canceled his four out-of-town dates for April-a speech at a Massachusetts Institute of Technology convocation, a trip to receive an honorary law degree at Boston College, a speech at the U.N.'s cornerstone-laying ceremony, a dinner for Israel's President Chaim Weizmann in Manhattan. Reporters at his press conference suggested that this was Harry Truman's way of seeking a "reconciliation" with Congress. There was nothing to reconcile, the President insisted; it was just a simple change in plans to let him catch up on paper work and see all the Congressmen...
Sixteen solemn U.S. citizens filed into the jury box in a big walnut-paneled and marble courtroom in Manhattan last week, rose in their three-tiered box as Federal Judge Harold Medina made his entrance. The black-robed Court seated himself in his high-backed chair, looked out over the top of his desk and nodded to U.S. Attorney John F. X. McGohey. The trial of eleven Communist leaders, charged with conniving as Communists to overthrow the Government by violence, had finally got down to business...
Pale and shaken, 51-year-old Sam Atkins backed away from himself with a feeling somewhere between disbelief and awe. By a single, splendid cerebration he had been lifted out of the ruck into the status of a television curiosity. In his humble Manhattan saloon, Sam had decided to cut the price of beer (the 7-oz. glass) from a dime to a nickel...
...Manhattan editorial office of McClure's Magazine, one day in 1902, Samuel Sidney McClure gave his goateed managing editor a jolt straight from the shoulder. McClure told Lincoln Steffens: "You don't know how to edit a magazine." Snapped Steffens: "How can I learn?" Said McClure: "You can't learn here . . . Buy a railroad ticket, get on a train, and there, where it lands you, there you will learn." Steffens, then 36, and already a crack reporter (New York Evening-Post), bought a ticket to Chicago. Before his U.S. travels were over, he had written The Shame...