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...with 500 National Guardsmen, who came dressed for combat and armed with rifles and 5-ft. clubs. Within an hour the students were gone, leaving behind a shattered community. Not one of the town's stores could open for business that day. Jan Beick, whose modest café rang up impressive sales of $150 Friday night, estimated his damage at $2,000 on Saturday morning. The zapped Zappians could at least console themselves that next year's rites of spring may be visited on another community. How about Donnybrook...
Salute Fired. Champagne and whisky flowed at Promontory, and the nation joined in the celebration. Fire bells pealed in San Francisco, a 100-gun salute was fired in New York, and in Philadelphia the Liberty Bell rang loudly. Today the great age of steel and steam is long past. The Promontory line, which followed the edge of the Great Salt Lake, was replaced in 1903 by a causeway that cut directly across it. The historic trackage was hauled off and melted down to help meet World War II metal shortages. Even the causeway line is now used by only...
...entrance. A tunnel enables employees to enter the building from a parking lot, and all must carry cards to gain admittance. Even so, last week a militant black leader managed to slip in and appear in the city room to berate an editor. Simultaneously, the editor's phone rang. It was a proud guard, calling to report that he had stopped two men trying to get by. They turned out to be FBI agents...
Whatever became of the death of God? Three years ago it was the most fiercely debated issue in American theology (TIME cover, April 8, 1966). Scholarly journals were thick with discussions of it. No sermon topic was more popular; pulpits rang with denunciations from righteous clergymen. Today, one of the chief apostles of the movement, Thomas Altizer, is quietly teaching English on Long Island. The journals and sermons have turned to other themes. Was it just a passing theological fad? A small idea blown out of proportion by pulpit and press? Or a real cri de coeur, saying something valid...
...preliminary soundings, no roundabout hints; the telephone just rang one day early this year in Shana Alexander's Santa Monica, Calif, home. It was Edward Fitzgerald of McCall's calling, the resonant male voice said. "How would you like to be editor of McCall's?" The petite, blonde divorcee said she'd think it over. Although McCall's is the nation's largest women's magazine, with a circulation of 8,500,000, it has not had a female editor in 48 years, and Shana, 43, had not had any experience...