Word: mrs
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Some of you were moved by this incident to write us for Mrs. Ladanca's address, which our bureau in Rome supplied. Others wanted Bruno's measurements so they could send him shoes and clothing. A fortnight ago Correspondent George Jones, of our Rome bureau, visited Lucia Ladanca, and his cabled account, which follows, may serve as one illustration of the effect of American aid to Europeans...
...lives in a semi-basement room at No. 3 Via Fratelli Bandieri, a narrow, cobblestoned street swarming with seminaked children. She had first told her story to Correspondent William Rospigliosi of our bureau last spring. When I arrived, she had just received two letters from TIME readers. One, from Mrs. Betty Jane Davidson, of Bluefield, West Virginia, said that a food package was on its way and asked for shoe and clothing sizes for everybody in the family. The other, from Bernice Sherman, of Bolton Landing, N.Y., also asked for clothing measurements...
Whitney's housewives redoubled their cries. Complained 70-year-old Mrs. T. E. Bagley: "They must spit about two or three gallons a day! They ain't died fast enough, these old men!" Tom Rose, 97-year-old dean of the bench sitters, replied with spirit: "Come here in '77 from Tennessee, been married 76 years, and my wife ain't whipped me yet! What do they want us old folks to do-hide in the woods...
...were driving along the mountain road on which Mrs. Aurora Quezon, widow of the Philippines' first President, was assassinated by the Communist-led Huks* last spring. For miles the road was deserted. Stray pieces of rotting cloth and bullet-ridden luggage still mark the site of the ambush. Soldiers for our party, clutching their carbines, fanned out to survey the scene; one flushed a parrot from a high fern. "I knew three of the dead," said their lieutenant, and idly fired four rounds of ammunition at a towering lawan tree. "In memory of Mrs. Quezon and my three friends...
...bicentennial festival and cracked: "While I'm in the mood, I may crown one of my own some of these days and keep her." The quip, 71-year-old Widower Barkley hastily explained to reporters overeager for the sound of wedding bells, had nothing whatever to do with Mrs. Carleton Hadley, the comely widow whom he had just visited in St. Louis...