Word: tobacco
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...with the state police from 1968 to 1972 and quit shortly after his squad-car windshield was apparently shot out from the inside when he was alone on patrol. His record also included the beating of a man he had arrested. After that, a brief stint as a tobacco salesman came and went amidst claims by his employers that a cache of cigarettes had mysteriously disappeared. Lawrence then managed to get a job as chief of the four-man police force in the small town of Vergennes; he left a year later, this time just before being fired for questionable...
...invited to West Virginia by a munitions merchant to try his hand at firing M-16s and Uzis. "I didn't shoot badly," he reports, "perhaps because I remembered what my old rifle-team instructor at Boise, Idaho, high school taught me. I put a speck of cigarette tobacco in my shooting eye to help with the windage...
...countrymen, Nyerere himself has spent the past month upcountry doing daily labor on ujamaa projects. There he recently received Britain's Foreign Secretary, James Callaghan, who promised a welcome $6 million in emergency aid. To conserve what meager foreign exchange is left, Nyerere has banned liquor and tobacco imports, restricted the importation of automobiles and announced plans for rationing gas. "Our motto must be: 'Produce or perish,' " he says grimly. Despite opposition from the World Bank and other foreign sources of financial aid, Nyerere has not cut back on one expensive pet project-moving the country...
...concocts an entire biography for a character: "Where he is from, where he is going, how he holds his knife and fork." For Bang the Drum, DeNiro, who had never played baseball, spent weeks in south Georgia and in spring-training camps in Florida learning the life of a tobacco-chawing Dixie ballplayer. "The first day I got to Georgia," DeNiro recalls, "I met a guy in a pickup truck and he drove me around. I taped his voice, other voices, even the mayor of the town." As for the tobacco, "you get nauseous at first...
...second-story apartment. Next door a few men pray in a gutted mosque, while turbaned workers, faces streaked with grime and dust, take a coffee break at Mohammed's Cafe. At one of the tables that sprawl halfway across the muddy street, Aly Rashid sits drawing honey-flavored tobacco smoke through the long tube of his pipe...