Word: whiskeys
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...safer, but not much. The big wind hit Chicago at 11:01 a.m. In two hours there were 600 emergency calls to the fire department. Chimneys went down, a water tank plunged through a roof, a cornice dropped to the street, killing a Negro, the ten-story Hiram Walker Whiskey sign on the corner of Randolph Street and the Outer Drive, one of the biggest electric signs in the world, crashed in a mass of twisted steel and broken light bulbs. On the Great Lakes the 4,220-ton freighter William B. Dacock, ice-covered, was driven on the rocks...
...Pittman liked straight shooting, straight talk, straight whiskey. Despite his 68 years, he was tall, lean and lithe as a whip. It was said that he kept flat-waisted by bowing gracefully. He had plantation manners-the soft-voiced courtesy of his Vicksburg, Miss, breeding. But he was tough, too, in the tradition of Westerners, never more dangerous than at his extreme politest, with a laconic wit that shot from...
...main courtroom, the magistrate resumed trial of usual petty police-court cases - drunkenness, pocket-picking, etc. A 74-year-old widow, Mrs. Amelia Graham, was hauled into Hendon Police Court on a drunken-driving charge. She proved that her physician was having her take a tablespoonful of whiskey every two hours to steady her nerves against the Blitz, notwithstanding was fined $80. One Alfred Jack Perry, 34, was arraigned at Stratford-on-Avon for walking past a time bomb against police orders. "This was sheer obstinacy!" boomed the mag istrate, fined Jack...
...bluegrass country is a fertile region, some 80 miles across, in the rolling foothills of the Alleghenies. Official spokesmen of the bluegrass country are the Lexington Herald and Leader. Both owned by rotund, ribald little Publisher John George Stoll, 62, who distilled a fortune out of bluegrass whiskey, the morning Herald (circulation, 18,876) is for Roosevelt, evening Leader (22,119) for Willkie. But on one question Publisher Stoll's papers are agreed: that bluegrass horses nave no peers...
...effort to discover the cause of his attacks, the doctors gave the young man a dozen different drugs, from common salt to pituitary extract, doused him in tubs of hot and cold water, sent him running up & down 15 flights of stairs. Still whiskey, etc. would send him into his dance. Nothing would cure him. He finally packed up and went home, resolved never to touch a drop again. One thing that consoled him: his leaping great-grandfather had lived to the ripe age of 87; his great-aunt, 72, and great-uncle, 81, were still dancing around...