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...what it would be like if Algerian-style plastiqueurs were loose in New York: "On any given Saturday night in Times Square a car would pull up to the curb and spray machinegun bullets into the crowds ... A bomb would be thrown into New York's Carnegie Hall . . . Taxi drivers, bus drivers and mailmen would be killed in every section of the city. Crowded Harlem tenements would be blown up on an average of one a month...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Press: Enter the Observer | 2/16/1962 | See Source »

...story has it that a student heading home for Christmas vacation could not bear facing his parents with his low marks. As he waited at Logan Airport for his plane to taxi to a halt, he suddenly burst onto the runway and ran full tilt into the whirring propellors...

Author: By Rudolf V. Ganz jr., | Title: Short Journal of Harvard Crime | 12/8/1961 | See Source »

...Thanksgiving Day last week, Harry's celebrated the 50th anniversary of its opening, and the sentiment flowed as freely as the booze. It seemed that oldtimers had come from all over the world to 5 Rue Daunou ("Just tell the taxi driver 'Sank Roo Doe Noo' ") to pay homage to the good old days...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Modern Living: Today, It's Politics | 12/1/1961 | See Source »

...speech sounded fine at home, where Argentines felt an unaccustomed pride in their austere, crisis-ridden and not very popular President. Nor did it hurt when Frondizi showed himself highly human by ducking out of his hotel one evening, taking a taxi over to Broadway and 46th Street. He dropped into a cafeteria, ordered a steak and a beer, then strolled on Broadway, licking an ice-cream cone and rubbernecking like any tourist...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Americas: Role of the Spokesman | 10/6/1961 | See Source »

...life in one cluttered rented room in the musty West Berlin apartment of two old women. He was cultivated and witty, the author of innumerable nonsense rhymes, the life of any party; but his favorite haunts were the seedy back-street beer halls (Berliner Kneipen) frequented by taxi drivers, petty criminals and superannuated prostitutes. Though he talked year after year of going off to Italy to visit his friend Artist Werner Gilles on the island of Ischia, he let year after year go by before he could bring himself to apply for a passport. He loved West Berlin with...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Art: The Berliner | 9/29/1961 | See Source »

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