Word: mill
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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There was almost nothing in Leo Held's life that could have presaged the end of it. Held, 40, a burly (6 ft., 200 lbs.), balding lab technician at a Lock Haven, Pa., paper mill, had been a school-board member, Boy Scout leader, secretary of a fire brigade, churchgoer and affectionate father. Certainly he bickered occasionally with his neighbors, drove too aggressively over the hilly highways between his Loganton home and the mill, and sometimes fretted about the job that he held for 19 years. But to most of his neighbors and coworkers, he was a paragon...
...Held decided to mount a one-man revolt against the world he feared and resented. After seeing his wife off to work and their children to school, Held, a proficient marksman, pocketed two pistols-a .45 automatic and a Smith & Wesson .38-and drove his station wagon to the mill. Parking carefully, he gripped a gun in each fist and stalked into the plant. Then he started shooting with a calculated frenzy that filled his fellow-worker victims with two and three bullets apiece, at least 30 shots in all. One bullet shattered a transformer, adding darkness to the sudden...
...More Bull. Stopping for a few casual words with incoming workers as he left the mill, Held next drove to the Lock Haven airport, where he shot at Switchboard Operator Gerry Ramm four times, wounding her twice. Thinking it was a prank, the airport manager hustled Held outside without a protest. Then Held's obsession sent him to the Sugar Valley School, where three of his own children and some 500 others had been locked inside after police had notified the principal of Held's rampage. After circling the school, Held drove home and invaded the house...
Actually, most of the students who crammed the narrow hall in Mallinckrodt had some reason to believe the University would view their action quite severly. Less than a year ago, after several hundred students forced Secretary of Defense McNamara from his car on Mill St., Dean Monro warned that such activity in the future would become a disciplinary matter for the Faculty...
Once inside, you survey your 10,000 fellows: M.I.T. professors, roving-eyed men, grandmas, unworkingmen, stiletto-heeeled tootises, and ordinary crowd material. They mill around the closed-circuit TV's, the long rows of betting windows, the beer and hot dog stands. They wander back and forth eating popcorn, spilling out to the open-air section by the track, crowding against the rail at the finish wire. Some flourish fistfuls of money, looking like scarecrows stuffed with green straw...