Word: sedan
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Domestic service in the 18th century was full of fun for any country boy or girl-there were so many of them that nobody had to work very hard. Sets of tall, matched footmen preceding one's sedan chair (the Countess of Northumberland had nine) were an 18th century equivalent of his-and-her Cadillacs. With little to do and plenty to drink, footmen frequently wrought havoc among the maids, cooks and nurses, but no one liked to break up a set of footmen when things got out of hand, so it was usually the seduced girl...
...DeWayne ("Tiny") Lund, cocky, 265-Ib. stock-car racer who had never won a major championship: the $100,000 Daytona 500, by carefully conserving his fuel supply and wheeling his 1963 Ford sedan around the banked asphalt track at an average speed of 151.566 m.p.h. Lund earned the ride in the Ford when he risked his life to pull its intended driver. Marvin Panch, from the flaming wreckage of a Ford-engined Maserati during a practice run. The badly burned Panch asked that Lund be allowed to take his place as a reward. Lund's share of the prize...
...cars went into the second lap, a white Pontiac Tempest sedan hot-rodded past everyone into the lead. The Tempest is Pontiac's compact, normally has a four-cylinder engine, gentle springs, and all the aerodynamic qualities of a two-by-four. But some expert rebuilding and the addition of an optional, high-performance V-8 Pontiac engine was all that Driver Paul Goldsmith, 36, himself an Indianapolis driver, needed to leave the Sting Rays in his exhaust...
...made it to the U.S. embassy compound next door. In the graveled courtyard, Olympio found a parked Plymouth sedan belonging to the embassy, and crawled in. There, in the early morning sunlight, he was spotted huddled beneath the steering wheel by one of the mutineers. Crying "All right, you have me!", Olympio surrendered and, prodded by rifle butts, was hustled down the driveway, past a mango tree and through the green gate. There he balked. Sergeant Etienne Eyadema, commander of the rebel detachment, later declared: "He could not stay there. There would have been demonstrations. He would not move...
Just after sunup one day last week, Secessionist Moise Tshombe slipped out of his pink palace in Elisabethville, climbed into the back seat of a black Comet sedan, and sped off down the road toward the Northern Rhodesian border. Soon an armored column of 500 United Nations troops was on his tail. For a moment, it looked as if the U.N. were in hot pursuit of its old foe. But no! To the astonishment of bug-eyed natives along the way, Moise was actually leading the blue helmets, urging his own tattered Katangese gendarmes to lay down their arms...