Word: shielding
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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That was only a shield to keep the name Barbara Streisand from getting bruised by uncouth hands. She had no desire to drop her own name-"because I wanted all the people I knew when I was younger to know it was me when I became a star." She hated her first name, though, and took an a out of it to shape it up. Today she likes to tell interviewers: "I don't care what you say about me. Just be sure you spell my name wrong...
...with an arrow. He got up again and ran on. "Kill him, kill him," a rebel screamed behind him. Another arrow struck him under the arm, bringing more blood than pain. Not everybody was as lucky. Jacques Bollaerts, 25, a former Belgian paratrooper, tried to shield one of the women as they ran. "Faster, Odette, I'm covering you," he cried just before he fell dead, hit in the head...
Snowshoes & Skis. Meanwhile, Rocky and Senator Margaret Chase Smith were stepping up their campaigns in New Hampshire. The lady from Maine rose with the sun, stomped around in a beaver-skin coat to shield her from temperatures that reached 29 below zero, donned snowshoes to clump around in the Canadian border town of Pittsburg (pop. 200). Annoyed that press reports invariably mention her age, she said that "Winston Churchill was three years older than I when he first became Prime Minister." (Actually, he was 65 to Maggie's 66.) She also proved that she has energy enough...
MORTON SCHAMBERG-Zabriskie, 36 East 61st. Schamberg was among the steely shield bearers of modernism in the Armory Show of 1913; five years later, in full battle with academicism and only 37 years old, he died in the great flu epidemic. Through art-nouveau poster painting to the plane geometry of the machine esthetic, Schamberg shared his passion for mechanical things and his studio with Charles Sheeler. For the first time since a memorial exhibition in 1919, New Yorkers can view 20 of his paintings, all on loan. Through...
...must become the slaves and bedmates of the conquering Greeks. Pain frantically grips a little boy between his mother's legs before he is taken from her and thrown from the parapets of defeated Troy. The boy's body is returned on his dead father's shield, and as the corpse lies there, like a tiny crumpled animal, pain speaks again in the unpierced stillness that is more dreadful than weeping...