Word: roar
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...CHURCHILL CANVAS, by John Spencer Churchill (308 pp.; Little, Brown; $5.75). Uncle could ape a gorilla as well as any man who ever lived. "Grr, grr," he would roar, and then crouch in the branches of an oak, "baring his teeth and pounding his chest with his fists." At the beach, Uncle was always the engineer who mobilized the children to build a fortress of sand against the rising tide: "More sand for the outer defenses! Stop the moat from flooding! Hurry!" Uncle also happened to be Winston Churchill, and upon this familial foundation John Spencer Churchill-a painter specializing...
...Little Booze. At 3, the revolving door spun like a roulette wheel and in tumbled the mob. At 3:15 the bar was jammed three, four, five, six deep, and the noise was like a rocket's roar. It was just like the old days. "Lemme hear them tills ring!" Toots yelled. To his eleven-year-old son Rory, Shor called "C'm on, little Toots! Drink up! Have a little booze!" A young Roman Catholic priest entered diffidently, and Shor bounded over to him to greet him with a hug and a kiss. It was "Father Bill...
...morning, the Swedish Saabs showed up with guns blazing over the copper-mining town of Kolwezi, 150 miles northwest of Elisabethville on Katanga's only rail line to the Atlantic Ocean. Within minutes, half a dozen railway locomotives and cars were out of action; then, with a roar, the town's main fuel tanks, filled with thousands of gallons of diesel oil, went up in a leaping column of flame and smoke. Near by was the village of Luilu, site of a big copper and cobalt refinery of Katanga's Union Minière du Haut-Katanga...
...Stupenda." Roughly two hours after her appearance, the Commander sank to the stage singing the words: "Al giunger tuo soltanto fia bello il del per me!" (Though only when you join me can heaven be heaven to me)-and was rewarded with a special American accolade, a sustained roar that lasted for twelve minutes and through ten curtain calls. Never, confessed the Commander later, had she "heard such sound from the throats of an audience"-and rarely had a modern audience heard such sound from a singer. In her triumphant Met debut-in Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor-Soprano...
...square with a swirling of scarlet flags, the cheerful explosion of strings of firecrackers whirled on poles, the rhythmic thunder of drums and cymbals. Healthy, pig-tailed girls dance by in a flutter of pastel scarves; fit-looking soldiers march past in cadenced columns; phalanxes of workers with banners roar out slogans extolling the greatness of Communism and hatred of "American imperialism." Here, evidently, is all the panoplied might of a confident and messianic power...