Word: thomaston
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...taken his wife searching for him, killed Mrs. Littlefield when she grew suspicious, cruised through six States for three days with his gruesome cargo. After changing the details of this narrative four times, Paul Dwyer was convicted of murder, sent for life to Maine's State Prison at Thomaston. Last week Convict Dwyer was back in court with a sixth version of the murders, by far the strangest, most horrible...
...respectable World War veteran and deacon, were characters almost as touching as Mrs. Jessie Dwyer, a simple nurse who had long struggled to keep her fatherless boy out of debt. But last May, 43-year-old Francis M. Carroll was arrested for incestuous relations with his daughter Barbara. At Thomaston, Paul Dwyer once more began to talk...
...Time Instruments, Inc. Last week for the first time this name appeared on the New York Stock Exchange. As unfamiliar to the average investor as to the average clock owner, GTI is known by its two chief subsidiaries, Western Clock Co. ("Big Ben") and Seth Thomas Clock Co. of Thomaston, Conn. These two old family enterprises were put together in 1930 to form the company which now accounts for one-third of the entire U. S. clock business. Instead of celebrating this union with a stock party for the public, GTI merely swapped its shares for the holdings...
Founder Thomas did not live to see his home town renamed Thomaston, but he left a good business and an honorable tradition to Seth Thomas II and other sons, who passed them on to Seth Thomas III and finally to Seth Thomas IV. The Thomases stuck to quality products, but their line broadened to include nearly everything from delicate chronometers to the world's biggest clock, installed in 1924 in Colgate-Palmolive-Peet's Jersey City plant for the benefit of commuters across the Hudson River. Seth Thomas IV was president of his family concern from 1915 until...
...Thomaston, Me., while spectators applauded and workmen cheered. May Gould, 20, daughter of Albert Gould, Boston admiralty lawyer, swooped a bottle of champagne down at the bow of her father's new yacht, missed. Down the greased ways slid the unchristened schooner. Slipping, skating, skidding behind it, trim in starched linen suit and white hat, plunged May Gould into the icy water. One hundred yards out in the bay, the champagne bottle slipped out of her hand. Three hundred yards out, she caught up with the yacht, grabbed her bottle as it bobbed by, smashed...