Word: workers
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...only insofar as they are needed in the labor force. Most migrants are men in their twenties and thirties, since the immigration authorities discourage them from bringing in their families. Rigorous medical examinations exclude all but the healthiest applicants. Once he has arrived, the migrant lives segregated from native workers--in barrack-like compounds in West Germany; in overcrowded shantytowns in France. Victimized by sleep merchants (housing profiteers), and endangered by unfamiliar machinery, the migrant also has no political rights to speak of--he can be deported at any time, and his residence visa depends upon his work permit. Alone...
...urged his supporters to pursue those goals upon which he had based his candidacy won him many votes after the fact. And privately, in the upstairs suite at the Copley Plaza Hotel, surrounded by staff-people, volunteers, and the usual campaign flotsam, he exhibited unusual strength. Moving from worker to worker, especially seeking out those who were weeping, he smiled, hugged and asked them to smile back. An 11:00 p.m. bulletin showed him at 4 per cent, with Ellen McCormack hot on his tail...
...Calvin Klein, ten years Halston's junior, is viewed by some experts as the most perceptive U.S. designer. A supercharged worker (13 hours a day), he graduated from New York's Fashion Institute of Technology and opened his own house in 1968. His clothes are comfortable and uncluttered. Seemingly influenced early in his career by Yves St. Laurent-though he denies it -three-time Coty Winner Klein has the French master's pipeline to the female fancy. Describing a typical Klein ensemble of skirt, skinny coat and cowled sweater as "the best basic look in fashion today...
Upstairs the platform was almost empty. A uniformed T worker with a bullhorn had just announced to a small band, including a forlorn David Hershey-Webb, that a derailment at Copley Square had broken all Green Line service as far as Kenmore. Above ground, a confused crowd waited for buses. The overland route brought us to Kenmore Square, where another disgruntled crowd milled about. Across Beacon Street, in the Relax-A-Bit coffee house, a streetcar driver sullenly sipped coffee. He looked as gloomy as if he had driven the streetcar off its track himself; perhaps the derailment meant...
...worker glared at him. Behind the counter the waitress asked the driver how he wanted his steak. "Christ, any way," he said, and wheeled his stool to show his back to both...