Word: wagon
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...forebears did three centuries ago--tugging at the yoke of a Belgian draft mule. The only sounds he hears are the snap of a rein across the mule's hindquarters, the simple mechanical whirl of his corn-harvesting machine and the creak of his oak-plank wagon as he hauls another stack of feed corn to his son-in-law's silo. Like their ancestors, Jacob and his kin light their farmhouses with gas lanterns and drive carriage horses--never automobiles--back and forth to town...
...people of Garden City, Kans., have always lived at the end of the world. In the 1870s and '80s, wagon trains plodded along the Santa Fe Trail for a month or more from Kansas City, on the state's eastern edge, to the scrappy little community near its western border. Even today the trip takes eight mind-numbing hours by car. No wonder Garden City (pop. 24,072) and hundreds of other rural communities in western Kansas have had a tough time persuading physicians to come and set up a practice. In fact, more than half the state...
...shade of maple trees, while a long line of neighbors formed, had their hands shaken and received a few words each, depending on the degree of their acquaintanceship... [At his cousin's home, the President] put on a pair of overalls, removed his collar and tie, loaded a hay wagon. Pictures were then taken...
...nothing. People are desperately scrounging for wild grasses, roots, bark--anything to supplement government rations as low as 12 spoonfuls of grain a day. In one village on the eastern coast, a rice-processing mill has no rice, so it is making noodles from seaweed. Every tractor, truck, wagon and ox-cart has been mobilized to distribute food aid as it comes in. Still, the pain is spreading across this country of 24 million as unremitting hunger stalks the land. Li Han, a Chinese truck driver who crosses the frontier regularly at Guchengli, has watched it. "People over there...
...wasn't that frightened until they threatened to flip our car over," says Kathleen Shuey. She and her husband George were trying to get on the Bay Bridge when their Volvo station wagon was surrounded for no apparent reason by "maybe a hundred" cyclists, one of whom scratched the side of the car. "That's when I got out and ran after him, and I almost grabbed him," says George. "Where does this stop?" Ironically, the Shueys support alternative transportation, but none of the cyclists bothered to ask. George, a Vietnam vet, and his wife, a recovering cancer patient...