Word: wanted
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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When they assemble beneath a burning June sun for the last times together, the begowned seniors do not want to hear pearly phrases about traditions and sonorous sentences about ambitions and goals. As they march past the trees and brick, mellowed by the shadows of the hour, they are properly filled with a feeling at once gay and quiet-a feeling that has its emotion in the moment not in the past...
...schools. Meanwhile 1,500 teachers marched to Board of Education headquarters on Park Avenue. And up & down before the Republican State Committee's offices in 42nd Street marched Charles Hinckley, 5, and Jill Hinckley, 3, leading a procession of 150 school children. Charles carried a sign: "WE WANT TO GO TO KINDERGARTEN." His followers chanted: "Republicans promised to protect our schools...
Last winter he planned to sail a Chinese junk across the Pacific to San Francisco and the Fair. Just before he sailed he wrote: "I want to steer her straight into the Golden Gate, where a long time ago I first saw a whitesailed schooner and first heard the call...
...Chicago a suit for separate maintenance disclosed a share-the-husband scheme which had worked temporarily. Introduced as evidence was a letter from Wife Mary Petersen to the other woman, Mrs. Caroline Bertram: "My husband is going to be home on his birthday. . . . If you want to come for coffee and cake it is all right with me. But remember, you are not playing fair with me when you keep him the nights he is supposed to be home. . . . Last night was my night and I was supposed to go with him to cash his check and shop. You took...
...writing A Book of Miracles for money. One of Hollywood's highest-paid writers (The Front Page, Let Freedom Ring, etc.), he forswore 15 months' salary to write it. (His movie salary is around $6,000 a week.) But for Hecht it was "fun writing what I want-without having Sam Goldwyn peering over my shoulder." Fun for Hecht has heretofore meant novels like Erik Dorn, Count Bruga, A Jew in Love-gaudy, swashbuckling, ranting books, splashed with dead-pan vehemence, a sort of Ouija-board mysticism, a little sour cream of human kindness-all with a suggestion...