Word: mineralization
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...four days, enough water, when rationed from a tiny aspirin bottle, to last almost as long. Said one survivor proudly: "No man took more than his share." Toward the last they gathered their own urine in tin cups, sipped it and used it to moisten their lips in the miner's standard survival procedure. Next evening Prince Philip, returning home from a visit to Canada, stopped at Springhill's hospital, and went from bed to bed with words of encouragement...
Chosen by the staff of 16 were John S. Pfarr, editor-in-chief; Bill O. Wright, business manager; John P. Moriarty, managing editor; Richard H. Miner, news editor; John M. Carroll, sports editor; Mary L. Denton and Linda Greenberg, Radcliffe editors; William S. Dillingham, production editor; and Roy J. Sonderling, photography editor...
...23rd child of an Archibald Patch, Pa. coal miner. Gibbons has long kept his gunbarrel eyes fixed on personal power. He armed himself with courses at the Universities of Chicago and Wisconsin, organized Chicago schoolteachers, then gravitated to St. Louis to stitch a handful of loose-knit locals into a Gibbons whole. When this was gathered into the Teamster fold, Hoffa and Gibbons formed an alliance under which Hoffa is the muscleman and Gibbons the strategist. "Gibbons," Jimmy once said in undisguised admiration, "there are some men in Detroit who dislike me-but those fellows back there in St. Louis...
When the Swiss scientist was awakened, it was 2 a.m. in the dreary Tuscan hamlet of Baccinello (pop. 400). But Paleontologist Johannes Hurzeler leaped from bed in a blink. In a coal seam 600 ft. under the village, a miner's torch had lighted an ancient white bone. Down in the depths Hurzeler dug farther with trembling care. Last week he ended a nine-year treasure hunt, exhumed the first complete fossil skeleton of an Oreopithecus ("mountain ape"). The age of the coal: 10 million years...
Whatever happened to the Cult of James Cabell? That quiet Virginian who wrote nineteen books; "the author of Jurgen," as he was loathe to be remembered. James Branch Cabell, a William and Mary graduate, newspaper reporter, magazine writer, coal miner, genealogist, and historian. Any of the latter-day literati who have skipped through the wispy medieval odyssey of a pawnbroker called Jurgen, and chuckled over all the phallic imagery, can appreciate Cabell as representative of an era--the era of gin-flasks, flappers, and sex in the back seat of Mr. Ford's Monstrosity...