Word: roome
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Leaving his dinner guests, Ross Hull went into his radio room, put on his earphones, was found dead a few minutes later. His body was lying on the floor, hands and face burned, earphones charred...
...their tongues, refused to repeat answers to questions. When the ticklish interview was over, Reporter Agness Underwood of the Herald & Express ducked into Corrigan's half of the suite to telephone her story in time for her paper's next edition. "Who's that in my room?" growled Corrigan like all three bears. American Airlines Pressagent Carl Anderson, whose employers squired Corrigan's tour, told him. "Well, get her out," said Corrigan. Pressagent Anderson tried to explain. "Listen here, you," barked Corrigan, "when I tell you to do something, you jump." Anderson fetched Miss Underwood away...
Last week 100 members of the House of Delegates, supreme A. M. A. body, met in extraordinary session with 400 officials of local medical organizations in the Red Lacquer Room of Chicago's Palmer House. Purpose: consideration of the proposed Federal health program. Dr. Harrison H. Shoulders of Nashville, Tenn., speaker of the House, Dr. Irvin Abell of Louisville, Ky., president of the Association, and Dr. Rock Sleyster of Wauwatosa, Wis., president-elect, exhorted the delegates. All three opposed "political control," reiterated the A. M. A.'s desire to "benefit the people." Said President Abell, referring...
When eight men were burned to death in a cheap West Side Chicago hotel last April 6, firemen and a coroner's jury said it was an unfortunate accident. But around the city room of the Hearst Herald & Examiner, reporters told each other there was something funny about that fire.* When they had nothing more pressing to do, they hung around the neighborhood, asked questions. Last week the Herex, which has hung many a ring-around-the-rosy scoop on its dignified morning competitor, the Tribune, blazed forth with exclusive "confessions" from two poolroom loungers, Frank Kolesiak and Emil...
...blow. The fact that it was a bright morning penetrated his brain, and he wondered why he'd set the clock at all. A blurry glance at his desk calendar told him it was Friday, September 23. Resisting an impulse to say so what, Vag took to scrutinizing his room in order to discover what he was doing semi-awake at the depressing hour of eight-thirty. He noticed a familiar, ugly gray catalogue entitled "Official Register of Harv----." In a flash he understood: it was registration day for Freshmen. Work to be done, he murmured, as the pulled...