Word: timbers
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Charles Augustus Lindbergh, back from his tour of the South Pacific, rented an 18-room, brick and timber house in Greens Farms, Conn., a quiet section of Westport, convenient to the four United Aircraft Corp. plants where he works as a consulting engineer. The house, on 14 acres of land, faces a road, is only 200 yards from his nearest neighbor...
...without having seen a German or fired a shot, the Canadians settled down for more training, more waiting. McNaughton tried to keep them busy with real work as well: Canadians helped England mine her coal and cut her timber. But they had gone to England to fight. Every one of them was a volunteer, and 20% or more of them were from those very French regions whose influence had prevented the Ottawa Government from sending conscripts overseas...
...Kuhlne pastured his cattle along a grass-grown waste of charred logs and blackberry thickets-the scorched remains of a forest fire in 1902. But this summer, as Northwest plywood and lumber mills went hungry for logs, Kuhlne wondered if the "old burn" might not still have some good timber in it. He sawed into a charred tree. After 42 years its core, sealed in by charcoal, was still sound. He found 5,000,000 feet of burned but merchantable timber lying on 400 acres around...
...Northwest, once prodigal of its vast forests, learned that dead timber was useful when smart operators began logging the scene of the tremendous Tillamook fire in 1933, almost as soon as the ashes were cold. But wartime demand has produced scores of smaller woods-salvage operations. The best plywood logs are from virgin-growth trees, but chunks need be no longer than 8½feet. As a result farmers are logging lo-foot stumps left by pioneer woods crews near Grays Harbor, and selling them for prices ranging from $20 to $40. And the rush to harvest long-dead timber...
...noon we slid down a vertiginous slope to a peasant hut, and just as I was gulping sour milk from a wooden bowl, a rifle shot rang out outside. I ran out and beheld, some 150 yards off at the edge of the forest, two grey timber wolves tearing at the udders of a prostrate cow. As the peasant's boy fired his second bullet, the big beasts looked at us with pricked-up ears and dignifiedly trotted off into the woods...