Word: westbrook
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...great a lift out of the oblique slap your writer gave Pegler, who is execrated by most fair and decent people for his character assassinations ... It is refreshing to read again & again your words "... Westbrook Pegler (whose continued toleration is all the proof anyone should need that the U.S. press is free...
Almost nobody makes bad jokes about her any more, with the exception of the incredible Westbrook Pegler (whose continued toleration is all the proof anyone should need that the U.S. press is free); last week he called her "the Great Gabbo." When she was in London last spring for the unveiling of her husband's monument, men respectfully took off their hats as she passed. The London News Chronicle wrote: "She has walked with kings, but never lost the common touch. Immersed in politics, she has never acquired the hard professionalism of the politician...
...Tufty's boast (among many) that "I was the only woman writer on the Dewey train in 1944" (not Counting LIFE Researcher Lee Eitingon). The trip paid off with more than news. When the train was wrecked at Castle Rock, Wash., Tufty suffered broken ribs and passed out (Westbrook Pegler passed the smelling salts). She came out of it with a $3,000 settlement, which she used to fix up her National Press Building cubicle with yellow curtains and a fancy circular desk...
...rough, tough baseball father, pulled up the shade on the years to let the sunshine of the Bambino's rollicking history pour through the room of his tree-shrouded Rye home as he abstractedly nodded: 'Babe Ruth was just a human citizen-a human American citizen.'" Westbrook Pegler, putting his worst (kickless) foot forward, told how Ruth, "a burly oaf [who] could suck half a pound of tobacco and spit through his ears," had autographed a baseball for him, a gift that helped him win his bride 26 years...
...aware that this capture had taken place. The U.S. people, most of whom would vote as Republicans or Democrats in November, were not sure, watching Wallace's political sideshow, just what to make of him. Was he a liberal-or a lollipop? Was he Sir Galahad or, as Westbrook Pegler has savagely dubbed him, an old Bubblehead? Was he a true prophet or a sinister Pied Piper...