Word: parkes
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...sang a group of girls and boys, waving their hats or their handkerchiefs from the porch of Camp Roosevelt, when the Presi- dent arrived in Yellowstone Park. In response, the President bowed; Mrs. Coolidge bowed, smiled; John Coolidge bowed, smiled. The song's lack of variety was balanced by its peculiar pertinency; the President had left Rapid City the night before, suffering from indigestion but had now recovered...
...Coolidge, in informal dress, danced, probably for the first time in five years, at a public dance in the lounge of the Grand Canyon Hotel. First she circled the room with her son; then with Col. Blanton Winship, the President's military aide. After that with Horace Albright, park superintendent. Then with W. M. Nichols, Yellowstone Park Hotel Corp. official...
...Preparations were made-secretly, with Sacco-Vanzetti disturbances in mind-for a seven-day presidential pilgrimage on horseback through Yellowstone National Park...
...Central Park, Manhattan, appears by day to be an ill-kept wasteland of stunted trees, ragged meadows, walks so tracked with gum-wrappers that they resemble the wake of a paper chase. At night not so; then the trees are like huge bundles of dark feathers, the lawns like scraps of green silk patterned with pathways. Here gum-chewers, muttering "loves me ... . loves me not . . ." as they tear the wrappers from their chiclets, take delight in strolling, in listening to the music coming from the Mall, where Edwin Franko Goldman conducts his band...
Last week Edwin Franko Gold man stood on his bandstand listening, not to the warm notes of his trombone but to words which one William B. Roulstone, President of the Central Park Association, was saying. Finally he reached, not for his score, but for a bronze desk-set offered by audiences, for a golden plaque, which members of his band had caused to be decorated with an engraving of their leader's face. "Only Coolidge, Harding, Lindbergh have had such portraits," said Mr. Roulstone. "The trio should be a quartet . . . gold to a Goldman...