Word: port
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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When Ed was five, another of the six surviving children died, and his parents decided that Manhattan was no place to raise a family. They moved to Port Chester, an industrial town on the Connecticut state line, ringed by such suburban garden spots as Greenwich and Rye. As a boy, Ed gave his interest to reading and sports. His favorite author was Sir Walter Scott, with his romantic yarns of knights, ladies, tournaments, good and evil. Ed had no doubt about where the knights and ladies lived and where good and evil flourished. The place, naturally, was Manhattan...
...world he was to love when he worked as a caddy at Rye's Apawamis Club, where, after toting golf bags for 18 holes, he would compare tips with a fellow caddy named Gene Sarazen. who also grew up to make a name for himself. At Port Chester High School, Ed won eleven major letters but got "frightening" grades in everything except English. He also landed his first newspaper job: high-school correspondent for the Port Chester Daily Item...
...much of the interior was under rebel control, and a powerful fleet under Rojas was in the River Plate threatening to bombard the capital unless Perón quit. As a warning of what might come, rebel warships stood off the beach-resort city of Mar del Plata, shelled port installations and a government oil refinery...
...London, where Mrs. Douglas Fairbanks Jr. will put her up.' Accompanied by his wife and two law partners, former Governor of New York Thomas E. Dewey took off on a monthlong, "entirely personal" air trip around the world, during which he will visit twelve countries. Cruising from port to port in the Mediterranean aboard Shipping Magnate Aristotle Onassis' luxury yacht, Swedish Sphinx Greta Garbo spent her 50th birthday at sea. Confident that she would swim the English Channel round trip and non-stop to international acclaim, California's Florence Chadwick set out thoroughly greased from Dover...
...Spanish Biscayan port of Gijón (pop. 110,000) was decked out in its fiesta best last week. Even its waterfront slums were bravely decorated with fish nets, crossed oars and ships' wheels laced with flowers. As the guest of honor, a smiling widow from Britain, entered a mean little square, she looked into the eyes of a blown-up photograph of her husband bearing the inscription: "To the Holy Virgin we pray: for us, many sardines; for the wizard who gave us penicillin, glory...