Word: sweeps
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...gently rolling plain in suburban Chicago one day last week, a pudgy, grey-haired man wearing a lurid $20 sport shirt stepped from a big black Cadillac, rent the air with a grandiose sweep of his cane and exclaimed: "This was nothing more than a bankrupt cow pasture 17 years ago." For ebullient Promoter George S. May, 63, the 134-acre pasture has grown spectacularly solvent and lushly green. It is now known as Tam O'Shanter, the nouveau Ritz among country clubs, whose 6,915-yd. golf course has a telephone on every...
...beetle-browed). At 26 feet below the surface, he found the scattered bones of a child less than a year old who had died something like 70,000 years ago. The child had lain there while dirt, rubbish and broken utensils covered it deeper and deeper. The whole sweep of human development was enacted over its skull, culminating at last in modern technological man: Ralph Solecki of the Smithsonian...
...make readers feel that they are on a private pipeline to the best-informed Government sources ("Officials aren't worried about deflation, think they can stop it . . ."). Kiplinger writes every line of the Washington Letter himself, sometimes rewrites an item a dozen times to produce what he calls "sweep lines," i.e., sentences that have a single thought to a line, and that end with a punctuation mark at the right-hand margin...
This week the "sweep" or cleanup stage of the drive was ready to begin on the lower St. Maurice. At some dams, main gates were wide open. Snorting diesel tugboats spasmodically shoved log masses through the sluiceways. Helped along by current and wind, the coeur de bois (i.e., "heart" of this year's 770,000 cords of pulpwood) slowly moved toward the St. Lawrence...
Once, the sweep meant breaking up log jams with axes or dynamite. Today, logging's storybook excitement and din is again lost to unspectacular efficiency. If wood piles up behind rocks, or wanders high and dry up on the river bank. Jenssen will casually ignore it most of the summer. At length he will signal the gate-tenders of the great Gouin Reservoir at the St. Maurice's headwaters. Switches will be flicked. A flood of extra water will dissolve the jams and rush the beached wood along on its interrupted journey. Pushbutton logging is here to stay...