Word: wisconsin
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...bright leaves of New England autumn crackled crisply underfoot as hunters in Maine and Vermont took to the woods and meadows in search of rabbit and pheasant. In Wisconsin and Oregon the hunt was on for grouse and quail. In Virginia and Maryland, packs of foxhounds were ready for the classic chase. Along the great flyways of the nation, ducks headed south. From California to the Carolinas, observers reported ground-game population on the increase as hunters and dogs prepared for one of the best seasons ever for the U.S.'s third (after fishing and bowling) most popular participation...
...used to place Virginia way above its Southern sisters, next to Vermont and Wisconsin in godliness, but now I can't help but cram it down into the bottom of the barrel along with Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama and South Carolina. But, maybe ole Virginny just ain't what...
...Grind. The big success came because a hardy few managed to surmount the follies of the planners. The first settlers-drawn principally from Michigan, Minnesota and Wisconsin-were granted 40 acres apiece, plus 30-year loans (at 3%). The Government had promised concrete foundations and basements for cabins, but foundation timbers were laid in the mud. Families received a grindstone, and 20 sacks of coffee beans were sent in, but axes were scarce, and there were no coffee-grinders...
...23rd child of an Archibald Patch, Pa. coal miner. Gibbons has long kept his gunbarrel eyes fixed on personal power. He armed himself with courses at the Universities of Chicago and Wisconsin, organized Chicago schoolteachers, then gravitated to St. Louis to stitch a handful of loose-knit locals into a Gibbons whole. When this was gathered into the Teamster fold, Hoffa and Gibbons formed an alliance under which Hoffa is the muscleman and Gibbons the strategist. "Gibbons," Jimmy once said in undisguised admiration, "there are some men in Detroit who dislike me-but those fellows back there in St. Louis...
...conversations run the whole range of policy problems and mutual personal interests. Both are ardent anglers, and Milton, who trolls for walleyed pike in Wisconsin's Land O'Lakes district, gives away no points to Ike. "I am every bit as good a fisherman," he says firmly, "as my brother." Both are ferociously intense painters, Ike in oil and Milton in painstaking watercolors. Before a slipped disk took him off the fairways, Milton shot an unorthodox but Ike-worthy game of golf (high 80s). Now and then the brothers get together with friends for an evening of bridge...