Word: mountainous
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Months before he set out to inspect Russia in 1956, Gunther buried his Roman nose in books, digests of Soviet newspapers, and a magpie's mountain of clips that he has amassed in more than 30 years. As always when mounting an expedition, Reporter Gunther wrote to dozens of functionaries whom he hoped to interview-and got three replies. Armed with standard 30-day tourist visas, Reporter Gunther and his chic, blonde wife Jane, 41, flew into Moscow in October at the height of the Hungarian uprisings...
Inside Out. Back in Manhattan in January 1957 with 30 crammed 3-in.-by-5-in. notebooks and a mountain of loose notes, he immediately went to work in the yellow-walled, fourth-floor office of his 80-year-old brownstone on East 62nd Street, catercorner from Eleanor Roosevelt's apartment. (Says Gunther: "Mrs. Roosevelt's lights and mine are the last on the block to go out.") After writing one 14,000-word magazine article on his trip, he dug in for the 14-month task of shrinking Russia...
When Emperor Nero received a shipment of mountain snow for his royal ice cream in a state of slush, he executed the general in charge. When Baltimore Milkman Jacob Fussell first began mass-producing the ancient delicacy in 1851, he started a U.S. industry that today leads all the world. But though Americans down about 3 billion quarts of ice cream annually, the U.S. Government-unlike Nero-has never had any control over the quality of the industry's product. Last week the Food and Drug Administration finally issued a code to regulate everything from quality "French...
...Arkansas' U.S. Senator James William Fulbright, then a lowerclassman and later president of the university, gives Ed full marks as a storyteller and cartoonist. Beyond that, Stone seemed content to remain a lady's man (despite his baggy-kneed appearance) and to join the boys in downing mountain dew. Finally the spinster head of the art department took alarm, wrote to Ed's brother Hicks, an architect in Boston and 14 years Ed's senior: "This boy has divine talent. If you don't take him away from here and put him in school...
...Tree of Idleness. After a hilarious session of Near Eastern haggling, Author Durrell took over "an iron key the size of a man's forearm" to a house in the sleepy, whitewashed mountain village of Bellapaix. Under "the Tree of Idleness" in the village square, the town greybeards sipped Turkish coffee and played a sempiternal game of cards. To Durrell's knowledge no one ever died, and the town gravedigger had to eke out a living digging cesspits. Each day toward twilight, a dozen cattle burst across the main street at racehorse pace, urged on by a bearded...