Word: neveral
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Walter B. Pitkin, glum champion of happiness (Life Begins at Forty), announced that he would take no notice of his 71st birthday: "There won't be any candles on the cake because there won't be any cake. I never celebrate anything, not even Christmas. Every day is the same to me." When the big day came, he was still working hard at his newest guide to success, Make Life Worth Living...
...fellow man. In a frontpage editorial, Editor Frederick Sullens, 71, who was once caned by Mississippi's late Governor Paul B. Johnson for his editorial attacks, damned the President's civil rights program as "mongrelization of the races." Excerpts: "The real Democratic party in Mississippi will never be dominated by renegades, lickspittles, opportunists, carpetbaggers, and deserters of the white race. And, if President Truman thinks [Mississippi Democrats] intend to meekly bow down to him ... we say with all earnestness and fervor-'Go to hell, Harry...
Pastor Herbert Reich had never seen the two 15-year-old girls before, but when they clambered down from the crowded third-class coach at the Delmenhorst station one day last week, he recognized them at once. Their clothes were clean but more patched and ragged than is usual in Western Germany, they carried tiny battered satchels instead of suitcases, and their eyes were bright with anticipation. Thirty-five-year-old Pastor Reich, who lost one leg to a Russian mortar shell, hobbled forward on his cane to introduce himself. "Guten Tag," said Else Hartmann and Irma Mueller shyly...
...week, from 20 to 30 young wanderers turn up there-boys like 17-year-old, shock-haired Karl Waldhauser, who had been drafted to work in a Russian-zone uranium mine. After three days on a pneumatic drill, Karl escaped and crossed the border at night. Says he: "I never get homesick. Maybe that's because my father and mother are dead. Now I want to be a farmer...
Yale University had never had a guest lecturer quite like the count. He was an egg-bald old (69) gentleman who dressed in Army-style suntans, refused to wear a coat or tie, and spent most of his time in a chromium wheelchair (he was badly wounded in World War I). At times, he would bellow at his audience ("Can you hear me in the rear echelon?"), then let his voice trail to a mumble...