Word: storrow
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...night in late April 1990, Robert C. Guillemin, at the request of Senator John F. Kerry, drove a 5,000-gallon golf course watering-truck down Storrow Drive; left in its wake were swaths of green paint and 19 scurrying art students to spread them across the road. The next day, droves of Bostonians, armed with sidewalk chalk, stepped out onto the highway and began filling the new “meadow” with drawings of birds, butterflies, and rabbits. Orchestrated by the then-brand new non-profit arts organization Art Street, Incorporated, this Earth Day celebration was founder...
...crystallized for us the day it was announced that Harvard, under a shroud of secrecy and through silent intermediaries, had purchased the Allston Landing site between Western Avenue and Storrow Drive. We knew that very day that at some point in the not too distant future we—the tenants of the Charlesview Appartments, a strategically located, primarily low to moderate income housing complex—would find ourselves fighting for our homes against one of the richest and most powerful corporations in the world...
...river itself presents a spatial divide between the two campuses, but even more of a barrier is the traffic on Storrow and Memorial Drives. While an Allston House might be about the same physical distance from the John Harvard statue as the Quad Houses, it is further in minutes and in mind. Imagine students taking a morning shuttle to class only to see it get stuck in the epic rush-hour traffic at the Larz Anderson Bridge. Imagine students drinking all night in Cambridge with their friends and then trying to cross Memorial Drive on their way back home. Students...
...response to National Highway Traffic and Safety Administration (NHTSA) warnings, PBHA removed the back seats from its four 15-passenger vans and restricted them from roads with speed limits over 35 miles per hour, including Storrow Drive and the Massachusetts Turnpike...
...fought an endless battle with the wind to keep my head from snapping backwards, I found myself often overcompensating and sending my head lunging forward into Stith’s. Resembling some sort of primitive form of Neanderthal communication, this inane head-banging ritual continued the entire length of Storrow Drive...