Word: wardener
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...waiting for word from state officials on how this information may affect evacuation procedures before we plan further," said Burke. If present plans don't change, however, the University will probably soon ask for student volunteers to attend warden training classes, Burke said...
...Green: Toby, Toby, you know Dad. Toby: I know you. Green: I'll get out! . . . Honey, Toby, honey, I am awfully sorry . . . Wait a minute, dear. Some of the boys are wondering who I am calling "dear" and "honey." One says who am I talking to, the warden? . . . Toby: W7hat are you doing with the guards ? Green: Oh, playing a little bridge with them or something like that. Toby: What about the man who is sick? Green: Who? Oh, he's lying down-throwing up ... Toby: What are you going to do to them? Green: I would rather...
...infantry legions, and brought lumbering over the roads from Fort Devens (at the risk of putting a few more kinks in Massachusetts' great new highway system) a tank--a weapon that could wreak more havoc against the enemy than they could possibly do to us. The fact that the warden would not let this weapon within his gates (and, incidentally, that it would not fit through the gates) is, we feel sure, only a temporary problem. We congratulate the forward-looking law enforcers of this Commonwealth, and are sure that the next prison riot will afford them an opportunity...
Before his slated release from the Lewisburg Federal Penitentiary this week, Model Prisoner Alger Hiss, 50, had a "customary talk" with the warden. Hiss, who has served three years, eight months and five days of a five-year sentence for perjury (for denying that he had turned secret documents over to the Communists while in the State Department), could scarcely find much consolation in the warden's parting words. When, as ex-Convict 19137, he walks out of Lewisburg's gate two days after Thanksgiving Day, Lawyer Hiss will greet the world as a convicted felon, practically broke...
...Spanish Civil War when he was in jail as a Red spy. In cell 40, Seville Prison, the wisdom of Marx and Freud proved nothing against the presence of death and the pity for those who went nightly, crying "Madre"before the firing squads. Into the ear of a warden, Prisoner Koestler whispered"I am no longer a rojo." Henceforth he recognized that the text of reality had been written by no man, and that he would spend the rest of his life trying, in rare moments of grace, to decipher its invisible writing...