Word: porto
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...democracy, one Brazilian army was ordered to attack another, which was determined to defend the constitution. A naval task force from the north steamed toward the southern state of Rio Grande do Sul, and air force fighters dived low over bristling antiaircraft guns in the southern state capital of Porto Alegre. At the end of a confused and passionate week, the longing of Brazilians for stability seemed to give promise-though not yet assurance-that the nation might peaceably survive its crisis...
...south, in Goulart's home fief of Rio Grande do Sul, Governor Leonel Brizzola was calling the gauchos to arms on Goulart's behalf. Brizzola, who is Brazil's most rabidly anti-Yankee governor and Goulart's brother-in-law, blocked the harbor in Porto Alegre, barricaded the streets, and began recruiting rawhide-tough cowboys into "Committees of Democratic Resistance." He called up the state militia, mobilized police, had trenches dug, surrounded his palace with barbed wire and put machine guns on the roof. But more important than all these precautions, he won the solid support...
Goulart decided it was safe to go home. But he took precautions. He passed word that he was traveling from Montevideo to Porto Alegre by car (Brazilian air force jets started buzzing the highways), then raced through the darkness to board a Varig Airlines Caravelle at Montevideo Airport. The jet slid across the border with lights doused as Jango washed down cold cuts with red wine by candlelight. Still in darkness, the plane set down in Brother-in-Law Brizzola's Porto Alegre stronghold. Brizzola introduced him as "chief of the armed forces and leader of all Brazilians," then...
...first ran in the daily paper of Porto Velho, a steamy jungle city 2,000 miles in from the sea up the Rio Madeira tributary of the Amazon river. Last week papers all over Brazil were still delightedly reprinting...
...playing cards, smoking, engaging in the familiar polemic dialogues of expatriates, they transformed a cheerful, terraced Mediterranean café into the atmosphere of a coffeehouse in Bucharest. The internees' expenses were paid by the government; much of the time the weather was warm enough for swimming; and in Porto, one fatherly gendarme captain even saw to it that a group of interned students kept up with their homework. But none of this could ease the bitterness of men and women who had been labeled "dangerous anti-Communists" and yanked away from their families without apparent rhyme or reason...