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...they must be shared by three teams; Yvette has to retrieve her uniform from a volleyball player to pose for photographs. Says Holden: "If she was a young man and had this kind of potential and ability, there would be no question. But she doesn't get a fair shake." Fair or not, it is Yvette Lewis' best chance: "I'm going to stay with basketball and go as far as I can go with...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Comes the Revolution | 6/26/1978 | See Source »

...insurance companies to cancel or refuse to renew policies unless a person runs up a long record of claims for mishaps that are his own fault. That would help to still the protests and make claimants feel that, whatever their bad luck, they were at least getting a fair shake...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Business: Infuriating Insurance Claims | 6/19/1978 | See Source »

...reconcile with the one person he has made miserable, his son, Jud (Robert Picardo), whom he abandoned in the divorce settlement. He amuses Jud with jokes and funny costumes, finds him a girl (Catherine Hicks), and smothers him with affection. But Jud, a 20-year-old fogy, refuses to shake the glad hand. "Mom said you once told Sonja Henie she was a great actress," he remarks in one of the play's best lines...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Theatre: Death of a Flack | 6/12/1978 | See Source »

...that time I was taking a course in English composition with Charles Townsend Copeland, better known as Copey, whose genial, sometimes crusty, habit it was to bring outsiders into his classroom, usually without notice to his students. The idea was to shake us up; an element of surprise was part of the process. Copey styled himself Harvard's "reader-in-ordinary." When he gave his readings, in a dry Maine accent and a gravelly baritone, he required absolute silence from an intimidated audience. He was about as 18th-century as a man could be; his academic life largely centered...

Author: By John Herling, | Title: Memories of a Half-Century of Change | 6/6/1978 | See Source »

Arriving spang on time at 7:50 p.m. in New Orleans' Union Terminal, the Crescent disgorges its passengers, many in search of taxis and buses and busses. An unhurried few, passengers and employees, linger on the platform to shake hands and say goodbye. Steward Steve Cosmos refuses a tip. "See you in Mexico," says the retired railroad man. "God bless!" says Luther King. That night, in the opulence of the Pontchartrain Hotel, the immobile voyager cannot sleep. He misses the creaks and bleeps and wee-hour talk of yesterday. Or maybe yesteryear? - Michael Demarest

Author: /time Magazine | Title: On the Southern Crescent Rolling Toward Summer | 6/5/1978 | See Source »

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