Word: moyer
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Some scientists and science educators are beginning to blame themselves for the present popularity of pseudo science -including astrology and medical quackery, as well as the "science" of creationism. Says Wayne Moyer, executive director of the National Association of Biology Teachers: "We have done a botched job of teaching evolutionary theory, and we had better accept the creationist challenge to clean up our act." Adds Chemist Russell Doolittle: "At first I couldn't understand the gullibility of people. It took me a while to understand that the average American is not equipped to combat this sort of thing...
...Trocano G 69 Levy MG 70 Skarzynski T 71 Britt T 72 Sowada MG 74 Lata G 75 Mihaly DT 76 Regan T 77 Holowinko DE 78 Tulsiak DT/DE 79 Doehring DT 80 Dolan TE 81 Grieve SE 82 Jadin E 83 Mattick DT 84 Kokoska TE 85 Moyer E 86 Sheldon E 87 Stratton SE 88 Burkitt E 89 Kirk DT 90 Martin DE 91 Linta DT 92 Leone DE 93 Lombardi DE 94 Hammersmith DE 95 Bernhard TE 96 Porterfield DE 97 Ford T 98 Englert DE 99 Kelley...
...camera and looks in horror as, 100 yds. away, the tan blur of a 100-m.p.h. tornado wind crosses the road on which the truck is parked. That wind could easily send it rolling end over end like a kid's toy. Moore dashes into the cab, Moyer on his heels. "Get in!" he screams. "That son of a bitch is coming right at us! Now! Let's go!" He jams the truck into gear, and we race north. Behind, hardly the length of a football field away, the ground beneath the tornado is suddenly lost...
...After plowing through a curtain of hail and rain, the truck turns south and breaks through the devastating storm. As it rolls through tiny Covington (pop. 605), every light in town blinks off and on, twice, because of storm-blown power lines. "Look for an escape route," Moore warns Moyer...
...force. They move faster, roiling and dipping over a wheatfield. It is now 7 p.m. Suddenly, 1 ,000 yds. away, a charcoal sky seems to extend a smoky finger that stabs down at the earth, then withdraws. "There it is!" shouts Moore, screeching to a halt. He and Moyer scramble out and hoist their cameras as the monstrous sky, churning and converging, forms a crooked funnel once, twice, half a dozen times. Each time the terrifying funnel snakes earthward and scratches the grassy field, dancing unsteadily, then retreats...