Word: shoot
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Research in a Fish Bowl. Whenever a big rocket shoot is scheduled at the Cape, word spreads from homes to stores to filling stations and motels to the concessions on the public beaches, not five miles from the top-secret launching pads. Within the hour the beach crowds are 25% above normal. Binoculars, telescopes and cameras magically appear. "I know there's a missile on a launcher," says an eight-year-old boy, building sand castles, a pair of binoculars around his neck...
Smiles in the Motels. The big night shoots are usually the occasion for the Cape's wives to get together while their husbands work. If there is sufficient warning, they gather at patio parties to watch the gushing clouds of steam tinged with pink, the towers ablaze with brilliant greenish-white light, the plumes of clean-burning jet flame. And in the Starlite Motel, which rents 70 of its 87 units to missilemen from Convair, North American Aviation, Bell Telephone Laboratories, A.C. Spark Plug, the practiced observer at after-the-shoot cocktail parties can tell from the demeanor...
Buffeted by the ocean's roll, the dog Boston had picked up in Bermuda soon became a mass of welts and bruises. "I found it difficult to shoot Mudie," said Boston, "but it was the most humane thing to do. He sort of yelped and turned over." Alone again, Boston longed for any sort of companionship, wrote in his log: "Noticed a very small fish swimming near the rudder. I hope that he stays there. It will be nicer to have company...
Women! Pietro's uncle the priest gave his blessing as the women started out, and when they reached the bridge, nine members of Francesca's class of illiterates were on hand-but not to bid her goodbye. "Stop!" one of them ordered, "or we shoot." Francesca leaped toward the bridge, but one of the men caught her arm and dragged her back. The other women tried to free her, but could not. While three of the attackers stood with leveled guns, two of the bullies dragged the schoolteacher into the wood. Six days later, the carabinieri found...
...yards, and sliding in on their own blood, overwhelm the hated occupiers. Thus Producer Kramer conquers Napoleon's forces. But somehow the whir of the cameras often seems as loud as the thunderous cannonades. It evidently takes more than dedication, cooperative multitudes and $4,000,000 to shoot history in the face...