Word: mud
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...crowd outside burned the banner with its Kadar effigy, stamped on it, spat on it. The cry rang out: "Menjetek a pokolba" (Go to hell!). Only fast work by their driver saved the Communists on their getaway. Again, screaming refugees leaped on the car and pelted it with mud as it sped off. Two days later, pleading "so few" applicants, the repatriation delegation called off all further camp visits...
After considerable searching, it has come to our attention that Spring is nearly upon us. A conclusion justified by the presence of mud in the Yard. Not just isolated patches, but long rolling, reeking swathes of rich, brown mud. Now there is nothing innately evil about mud, save for the sake of the few dogs and freshmen who disappear with a slow, sinking motion. But after a while the mud dries and green grass begins to grow. Now grass isn't innately evil either, except for its color. The green of the grass in the Yard clashes with the green...
...Castelpoto (pop. 2,800) was bone-poor and bright Red. A medieval huddle of stone houses high in the Neapolitan Apennines, it had no sewage system, no running water, no schoolhouse, no movie, and almost no electricity. On chilly winter evenings peasant women lit bundles of twigs on their mud floors to warm their chimneyless, smoke-blackened houses. When party organizers moved in after the war, Communism took Castelpoto with a rush-even to the local branch of Catholic Action, whose leader, Costanzo Savoia, became mayor on the Communist ticket. This situation, church authorities decided, called for Don Domenico...
...thaw following the recent sneak snowfalls has transformed Harvard Square into a morass; an oily, black slush is waging an all-out war against man, and winning. What was once snow now looks like low-grade mud, feels like cold porridge, and acts with a diabolical intelligence. This Cambridge variety preys on nice elderly ladies with full shopping bags and weak ankles, lying in wait to capitalize upon the slightest mis-step. Faint yips are all that remain of a dog who attempted to cross the Square; six Volkswagens so far have disappeared into Massachusetts Avenue; and a small child...
...there with a vengeance as Dick Nixon climbed into a car in Vienna bound for the refugee camps near the Hungarian border. A thick mist scummed the windshields as the 39-car motorcade rolled eastward under the grey sky toward Andau, a scant kilometer from the border. The mud was ankle-deep along the roadside, and the heavy mist was raw and penetrating. The weather failed to daunt the 300-odd refugees gathered at the camp, and it equally failed to daunt the Vice President of the U.S. who stepped from the car, trim and neat in black shoes, black...