Word: winded
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...luggage. From 1840 on, they arrived in a wave that was perpetually at flood tide, furnishing the growing U.S. with the sinew and spirit to build its railroads and create its industries. Often they faced a grinding struggle for survival in the New World's harsh slums and wind-whipped prairies, but somehow the immigrants managed to take root. Out of their extraordinary exodus - which John F. Kennedy called "the largest migration of people in all recorded history" -rose an extraordinary nation...
...Weiner: the $10,000 Transcontinental Trophy Dash for propeller-driven airplanes, piloting his P-51 Mustang from Clearwater, Fla., to Reno, Nev., in 6 hrs. 28 min. 37.9 sec. for an average of 373 m.p.h. Weiner covered the seams of his plane with tape to cut down wind resistance, stopped just once for fuel, landed at Reno with only 11 gal. of gas to spare...
Sitting on the sun deck off his 34th floor office in Cleveland's Terminal Tower two weeks ago, the chief executive of the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway gasped as an unexpected puff of wind caught the papers at his side and whisked them over the parapet. Walter J. Tuohy quickly enlisted a financial vice president and four aides, and all set out on a frantic search for the papers. For 21 hours, they scrambled over rooftops, peered out on lower ledges and tramped the rush-hour streets below. No luck...
Bendix' management faces the constant problem of trying to bring some order out of the company's diversity. Salesmen from separate Bendix divisions with virtually the same product occasionally wind up fighting for the same customer. Two divisions, for example, are competing to sell flight control systems to the major aircraft manufacturers. Bendix maintains that it thus offers a customer alternatives, calls the system "planned internal competition." But it still has to hold regular monthly meetings of division heads to iron out the conflicts...
...sailed "down north and up along" the coast of Maine and Nova Scotia summer after summer, and made voyages of opportunity in all quarters of the globe. Now, in a brief delightful memoir, the old salt recalls with affection some of the finest hours he has passed between wind and water -a day in 1961 when everything went right, a day in 1956 when everything went wrong, a long warm summer's sail among the shining isles of Greece. Much of his time is spent making crusty pronouncements from the poop ("A marina is the yachtsmen's slum...