Word: virgil
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Died. Theodore Virgil Houser, 71, former (1954-58) chairman of Sears, Roebuck & Co., described by his friend and onetime Sears boss, General Robert E. Wood, as the "greatest master of mass merchandising in the U.S."; of a heart attack; in Manhattan...
...first suggestion that he might be thought of as a candidate for the presidency came to the general from Newspaper Correspondent Virgil Pinkley in 1943, just after the Allies had finally succeeded in overrunning Sicily and landing in Italy. Ike was incredulous. "To say that I was astonished by Pinkley's suggestion is far from an exaggeration; my instant reaction was that he was something of a humorist. 'Virgil,' I said, 'you've been standing out in the sun too long...
...Bigger, More Determined." Also in the aftermath of the Sunday school bombing, a county grand jury indicted two 16-year-old white boys, Michael Lee Farley and Larry Joe Sims, for first-degree murder in the death of a 13-year-old Negro, Virgil Ware. In the disorders that followed the church deaths, Virgil was shot as he rode on the handle bars of his brother's bicycle. The grand jury refused to indict Birmingham Policeman Jack Parker for the fatal shooting of another Negro teenager, Johnny Robinson, 16, who was part of a group that stoned white...
...Several miles away, on the worn-out coalfield fringe of Birmingham, two young Negro brothers, James and Virgil Ware, were riding a bicycle. Virgil, 13, was sitting on the handle bars. A motor scooter with two 16-year-old white boys aboard approached from the opposite direction. James Ware, 16, told what happened then: "This boy on the front of the bike turns and says something to the boy behind him, and the other reaches in his pocket and he says Pow! Pow! with a gun twice. Virgil fell and I said, get up Virgil, and he said...
...devils that ever ghosted across the desert before the days of irrigation had returned to haunt California's Imperial Valley. Over fields of flax reddened by a dawning sun, thousands upon thousands of mourning doves wheeled and circled, their whistling wings deepening the sense of speed. Below, Cattleman Virgil Torrance tightened his grip on a 12-gauge single-barreled shotgun. The doves' cries were tender and doleful: "Whee-eet, whee-eet, whee-eet." Torrance smiled: "When I hear that, it's all I can do to pull the trigger." And he proceeded to blaze away...