Word: street
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...ladies' garment workers, who clothe the U.S. woman above the wrist, below the neck, and above the ankle. Just about everything that goes into a woman's bureau drawer or hangs in her closet comes from this compact, 23-block area that runs north from 34th Street to Times Square, west from Broadway to Ninth Avenue. Flanking it to the south is the U.S. fur center, seven noisome streets. On its eastern border are the millinery shops where half of U.S. ladies' hats are fashioned...
...Many Watches? Dubinsky's life is the union. Immensely likable, he is cordial to everyone, but intimate with no one. He takes home to dinner anybody he happens to be working with. Home is what he calls "a good proletarian penthouse" on unfashionable West Sixteenth Street. (Says Dubinsky: "I never tell reporters, because right away they say, 'aha, a labor leader lives in a penthouse,' as though a labor leader shouldn't be comfortable.") He pays $190 a month rent, lives there with his wife, their divorced daughter and her child Ryna, who is the apple...
When a 17-year-old youth named Lawrence Mack knocked on his door one night last week and tried to collect for some cleaning work, Craig ran true to form. He yanked out a pistol. As the youth began to sprint down the street, Craig took a shot...
...around inside the house like a caged animal, firing back in vicious bursts-now from the front of the house, now from the side, now from the back. Glass smashed and tinkled, neighborhood women screamed, bullets hummed and a reckless crowd of 10,000 people began jamming into the street. New police reinforcements arrived, among them the force's top brass. Fire trucks rumbled into the street and turned huge searchlights on Craig's bullet-riddled fortress...
Along West Madison Street, within sight of the handsome Daily News skyscraper, sprawls the noisome slum of saloons, hash-joints, missions and flophouses that Chicago calls Skid Row. One morning last June, as he picked his way to work through Skid Row's reeking garbage and broken bottles, and stepped past the bodies of sleeping derelicts on the sidewalks, Daily News Managing Editor Everett C. Norlander felt his stomach turn over. His next reaction was that he was walking through a good story. When he got to his office, he called in two young rewrite men and asked...