Word: roading
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...Henry Clay . . ." It was like old times. At every operational stop, cheering, pushing crowds gathered around the back platform and local dignitaries clambered aboard. Harry Truman made neighborly small talk. At Cumberland, Md., he recalled that Fort Cumberland was the first milestone on the old National Road. "And I helped lay it out-me and Henry Clay," said Truman playfully...
Peter's apprenticeship was interrupted by his induction into the German Army in the first World War. Sent to the Eastern front, he was captured by the Russians and spent three years in various prison camps. At one time, he was in a road gang building a railroad in the Caucasus. "It was very hard work," Peter reminisces, "and I wondered why I should work there if I could never ride on that train. I noticed the guard wasn't looking, so I just moved a little in the woods. Then a little more. It took them three months...
...Long Road. By 1915, when he graduated, Selman Waksman already had one toe on the threshold of a great discovery: he had found in the soil a microbe which he has since named Streptomyces griseus.* He had no reason to suspect that it was a life-saving drug. A year later he wrote his master's thesis on this and related microbes. He was on the road to streptomycin, but it would be almost 30 years before he reached the end of the road...
...Road to Peace." In Roosevelt and the Russians, ex-Statesman Stettinius warmly defends Yalta and all its works. His thesis: 1) Yalta was "a wise and courageous attempt by President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill to set the world on the road to lasting peace"; 2) "Difficulties have developed, not from the agreements reached at Yalta, but from the failure of the Soviet Union to honor those agreements." His book is a flat, deadpan report on the eight-day trading session that embittered many a champion of "open covenants openly arrived at." It is the most complete report yet made...
...have a troublesome task to drive the wheels ... by heaving and hauling at the spokes." At this, of course, the friendly reader unconsciously puts his own shoulder to Author Graves's mired wheel-and before you can say "White Goddess" the lusty, likable potboiler is bowling down the road again...