Word: pilings
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...weekly heap of dirty clothes is a problem that varying Harvard men solve in varying ways. Some carefully pack their laundry in neat cardboard cases, lug them down to the Post Office, and then spend weeks in squalor and grime waiting for the return mail. Other pile their clothes in the washbasin and alternately serub and sneeze until a dazzling brightness is attained. But most undergraduates shoulder or dispatch their wash to Cambridge laundries which charge up to $18 to fray cuffs off of shirtsleeves...
...week. Their employers, the trustees of Manhattan's St. Patrick's Cathedral, offered them a raise of about 3%. The gravediggers turned the offer down, and negotiations came to a stop. On Jan. 13, they went out on strike, and the coffins began to pile up at Calvary. After burial services, the coffins were laid down in shallow uncovered trenches. Last week when the number of unburied dead topped 1,000, the cardinal called out his seminarians. Tightlipped, he rode his gravediggers through the cemetery's picket line, while a silent union man respectfully touched...
...Washington on the last day of October 1948, burly William Marshall Boyle Jr., one of Kansas City's smartest local politicians, pushed aside a pile of statistics and predicted flatly that Harry Truman would carry 29 states. He was wrong on only one state: Maryland went for Tom Dewey (by 8,293 votes...
...years the Protestants have magnified the effect of their strength by a shrewd drawing of district boundaries, to pile up the votes where they counted the most. The Catholic party bitterly resented such gerrymandering. "See that woman pushing her pram up the hill with two babies and bundles, and her pregnant?" asked a Londonderry Republican. "Those houses she's going to could have been put up down below on as level a piece of land as ever you saw, but it might have risked a Unionist majority, to put working-class Catholics in that district." He snorted...
City Full of Jazz. At night, the hot, insistent rhythm came at him from every direction. In the daytime, there was jazz in the streets. Band members would pile into advertising wagons (with the trombonist on the tail gate for freedom of reach) and engage in music battles with other bands; the winner was chosen by acclamation and rode off with crowds following. At Negro funerals, the bands played to & from the cemetery-doleful spirituals on the way out, such frenzied affirmations as High Society and Oh, Didn't He Ramble! on the way back...