Word: telegraphs
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Hooray for Bill Gates, I guess. Hooray (long ago) for Marconi's gypsy cart, the telegraph. The transcontinental railroad was a marvelous new cart (though you get an argument on that from remnant buffalo and Sioux). The interstate highway system, brightest cultural blossom of the Eisenhower years, was a wonder. So were the electric carving knife, the fax machine and the splendid neckties and haircuts of the 1970s...
DIED. SERGEANT MARK MATTHEWS, 111, oldest of the "Buffalo soldiers," a legendary regiment of black G.I.s who fought frontier wars with Native Americans (they nicknamed the soldiers, whose curly black hair reminded them of a buffalo's mane), laid hundreds of miles of roads and telegraph lines and won 20 Medals of Honor; in Washington. One of the World War II veteran's early missions was tracking Mexican bandit Pancho Villa along the Mexican border. "I never met him," Matthews said, "but I knew where...
...from the artists, the professionals hanging the works and from the public has been "incredibly good"?visitors are spending longer with the permanent collection than ever before. "What could have been an incoherent jumble is as tightly structured as a Swiss watch," wrote Richard Dorment of Britain's Daily Telegraph...
...episode shows how easily the fickle bush telegraph can chew up police time. As well, it reveals the power of Boi, a respected leader, and the weakness of a chief such as Daga, who lacks legitimacy. Dunde village throws up a host of problems for the Munda police: drunkenness, vandalism and domestic violence. Curragh says most of these things could be nipped in the bud by a strong role model. Daga's poor example only perpetuates bad behavior...
...year-old twins, Trevor and Samantha, play on the floor of the room across the hall, while her husband finishes a phone conversation in the living room. The house is open and clean, decorated with Oriental carpets and contemporary art. She apologizes. One resourceful reporter for the British Sunday Telegraph recently tracked down their address and arrived unannounced, and she's still angry. ?British journalists,? mutters Joseph Wilson as he enters the room. Plame pours him a soda water and cranberry juice, and they exchange details about the groceries they need...