Word: sundays
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...labor force to man, equip, maintain and feed it. It also demands the unflagging efficiency, enthusiasm and watchfulness of the front-line crews and the steady support of the public during years of strain that know no letup. Whenever Admiral Radford gets away from his three briefcases of Sunday homework to take a drive with his wife Marianna (which is rarely), he must first outline his exact route to a duty officer, so that troopers can be deployed to bring him back in a hurry, if necessary. A crew chief in the Strategic Air Command is subject to the same...
...Maine, flashed a schoolteacher's certificate, got himself a job teaching high-school English, Latin and French. He quickly made friends with the normally reserved down-East folk; they liked his jolly ways, his eagerness to participate in North Haven affairs. He formed a Sea Scout troop, ran Sunday school at the local Baptist church with a gentle, knowing hand. At Christmastime, he rented a post-office box in the name of Santa Claus, gathered up letters from the children, wrote genial replies to each one. bought and distributed gifts for the poor. And then, one day last week...
...back home and in the U.S., the headlines were redolent with the heady scent of orange blossoms dispelling the noisome rumors of rift. "After 124 days and 5 hours, they are TOGETHER AGAIN," blared Britain's Empire News. "THA-A-T'S BETTER," purred London's Sunday Pictorial...
Author Madison Jones, 31, an assistant professor of English at Alabama Polytechnic, dresses some of his sentences in self-conscious Sunday-best. Images that arrest also often manacle the narrative. But in his bewildered hero bent on restoring a lost Eden, Author Jones has found an apt symbol for the current Southern temper, restive and occasionally violent under edicts which seem to threaten cherished folkways. In a fictional amber as reflective as it is rhetorical, he has fixed the unchanging pathos of social change...
Author Roosenburg. now a LIFE reporter, writes with such warmth and euphoria that often the great migration of prisoners seems as jolly as a Sunday in the park. The heady excitement of survival made it easy to put the dreadful past out of mind and heart. Nearing home. Henriette says: "I feel like one of those violinists at a concert who gets called back for an encore. I was so convinced that I was going to die and that the concert was over, but apparently life wants an encore. I just realized that tonight...