Word: sob
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...Sob Sister Browning, a veteran of five years on the Trib and currently winning more Page One bylines than any other city staffer, borrowed some red & green ankle-strapped shoes from a Trib secretary and took off her wedding ring. She bought a scarlet coat, laid on a heavy job of make-up and went forth in her new identity: a country girl who had gone wrong but was seeking help to go straight...
...Amster is the only woman police reporter Louisville has ever had. After breaking into journalism on an Indiana newspaper, Mrs. Amster landed on the Louisville Times (circ. 167,607) five years ago, made good on the police and courthouse beats. She was later moved to general assignments, especially sob-sister stories, and became dissatisfied with her job and herself. At 24, Betty Lou felt that she had "run out of learning," because, married at 16, she had never gone beyond high school. Last month, Reporter Amster buttonholed Publisher Mark Ethridge (who also runs the Louisville Courier-Journal) and asked...
Screamed Li'l Abner: "Joe!! Yo' has failed me!! Ah was shore somethin' would happen-somethin' awful!!" Croaked Btfsplk: "It (sob!) DID!!" Had the unthinkable really happened? Sadistic Cartoonist Al Capp left his readers to bite their nails over that for another week...
...before a firing squad (1897) and leaves him "asleep in the wet grass, with his motionless arms still tightly bound behind him, with the scapular twisted awry across his face, and the blood from his breast sinking into the soil he had tried to free." Winifred Black, the original sob sister, sets the pattern for countless future sob sister leads with "I begged, cajoled and cried my way through the line of soldiers" to get into Galveston after the flood (1900). Then she compresses the harrowing scene into six words: "We've burned over 1,000 people today...
...settled when Masaryk's black Packard pulled up at the little white-fenced cemetery. His grey Homburg in his hand, Jan Masaryk stood staring at his father's grave, at the clusters of farm buildings that dotted the countryside, and suddenly he bent over and began to sob. For 45 minutes he wept. On his way back to Prague he muttered over & over: "For me nothing matters now. I only wish I could do something for the nation...