Word: swamps
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...long-range decline of the whooping crane can be traced to progress and the ensuing process of swamp drainage. A more recent short run problem has been the happy hunter who blasts away and, to his later regret, destroys one or more Grus americana. The most immediate problem facing the whooping crane is unfolding at the Audubon Park Zoo in New Orleans, where Josephine, a splendid female whooper, has just laid two eggs (referred to as a "clutch"). Since breeding wild in west-central Canada is a slow and dubious process at best, zoo breeding is a major hope...
Some folks dare to call Vinson "Uncle Carl," and sometimes "The Swamp Fox," after the Revolution's great strategist, Francis Marion. In committee hearings Uncle Carl's slow drawl and subtle digs ("Wha'd'ya say yer name wuz, Gen'ral?") can shake stars and tangle braid. Though he has long been a stalwart defender of a big Navy, knowledgeable Carl Vinson is also a wise, powerful force for a strong military establishment. But Ike's plan was too much for Uncle Carl...
Just north of the Sea of Galilee, where the headwaters of the Jordan River used to fan out into a four-mile swamp called Lake Huleh, the Israelis last month began to dig another of the drainage canals that have already reclaimed some 15,000 acres on the Syrian border for new settlers. The Syrians protested to the U.N. Truce Supervision Organization that the Israelis were digging into the demilitarized zone on their side. They opened fire, and the Israelis shot back. One Israeli, one Syrian, and one Egyptian officer of the new United Arab Republic army were killed before...
...high spirits . . . 'That'll be a snap. Nate. Nothing to it.' " Says Loeb to Leopold, as they are planning to collect ransom for Bobby Franks: "Hey, this is neat, Nate-hey, I'm a poet!" When headlines announce: BODY OF BOY FOUND IN SWAMP, Loeb asks: "What'cha think, Nate? When are these damn papers printed?" Leopold replies: "Hell, I don't know. Couple of hours...
...Cambridge, Neil McElroy majored in economics, subbed in basketball ("I would be in for five minutes, then out like a cigar in a swamp"), tootled the piccolo, became president of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon chapter-and ran the floatingest poker game in Matthews Hall. When his devout Methodist father heard about the poker, he insisted that Neil take up bridge instead (years before, figuring his sons should sin at home if they sinned at all, he had bought them a pool table to keep them from hanging around pool halls). The upshot: Neil McElroy plays both bridge and poker, enthusiastically...