Word: warsaw
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...like a summons home for the 13-year veteran of Time Inc. Son of one of Poland's most distinguished poets, Wierzynski was born in Warsaw only 2½ months before the Germans invaded. Though he left his homeland in 1946 for Switzerland and, seven years later, the United States, he has returned to Poland often, and family members proved to be good sources on this particular story. "Before leaving Washington," recalls Wierzynski, "I debriefed my mother, who had met the then Bishop Wojtyla several times while my parents lived in Rome." Later, in Warsaw, Wierzynski sought...
...tell him of the "great satisfaction" in his homeland. They also lifted travel restrictions so that 5,000 Poles could travel by trains and a private cars to the installation and another more 1,000 could take chartered flights, forming what one official called "an air bridge between Warsaw and Rome...
...people of Poland were swept up in exultation. When word came, said a Warsaw engineer, "our hearts stopped beating for a minute." In the Pope's home see of Cracow, historic political and cultural center of the nation, people of all ages flocked into the streets, singing and shouting and hugging one another. Many gave impromptu speeches, prayed or paraded with Polish flags. Thousands flocked to Wojtyla's residence on Fran-ciszkanska Street and to St. Mary's Church, his episcopal seat. At Wawel Castle, where Polish kings once lived, the great Zygmunt Bell, rung only on historic occasions, pealed...
Wojtyla is equally rhapsodic about canoeing and kayaking, and was in fact on a kayak trip when he was named a bishop in 1958. Wyszynski's staff could not find him for hours, but finally managed to get him back to Warsaw. "The Pope has nominated you to become a bishop," Wyszynski told him. "Will you accept? You know the Holy Father does not like to be turned down." Wojtyla thought for a moment, then said: "Yes. But it doesn't mean that I can't return to my kayak trip, does it?" It did not, and he was back...
...storyteller." This insistence on the unities of plot and form has made Singer the greatest living 19th century writer and perhaps the only Nobel prizewinner with no pretensions whatever. The lively old figure, with eyes the color of the Israeli flag, dressed as for a formal walk on Warsaw's main street in 1928, has become a familiar one to shopkeepers of Manhattan's scruffy West Side. The author's first words, when informed of the Nobel Prize, were typically effacing: "Are you sure?" Singer has no plans to change either his life-style or prose style...