Word: wound
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Occupational Hazard. Forced to take up his own defense, the psychiatrist wound up mumbling wearily about an unhappy marriage and conflict regarding his work. "I guess it's an occupational hazard, being aloof all the time," he said. "I've been trying to let more of me come alive, but it isn't easy after 20 years...
...great, growling 600-h.p. monsters that could hit 200 m.p.h. on a straight -if they found one straight enough. Two world wars did their share to help, producing generations of youngsters thirsty for thrills. The terror of Thurber's aunt, who tried vainly to conquer a car and wound up pleading, "Somebody take this goddamn thing away from me," gave way to something the psychologists called "locomotor philia": the teen-ager in his chromed and channeled-down hot-rod who leaned out at stop lights and sneered: "Wanna drag, mister...
...National, Bronx-born Gene Klein made his mark as a California used-car dealer by adopting an unusual pitch. He advertised that his cars were "cheaper per pound than hamburger," marked them variously at 440 or 660 per Ib. He bought 50,000 shares of National with his profits, wound up as president after the company ran into critical financial trouble. "There were so many fires to put out," says Klein, "that I had to make a list of priority fires." Klein sold off some unprofitable properties, clipped personnel, then went to work on the theater operations. Today he puts...
Blood on the Trigger. No one had an accurate count of the casualties. Caamaño claimed 67 dead, close to 200 wounded. That might be an exaggeration, but the casualties were obviously heavy. In the rebel zone, TIME Correspondent Mo Garcia reported a sad, ugly scene. In Padre Billini Hospital, four dead rebels lay along a hallway; another seven were stacked in a small room. Both operating rooms were full, and one of the two washrooms had been converted for emergency service. On a table in the morgue lay a two-year-old boy caught in a crossfire...
...forebears were Methodist ministers; he was a preacher only at heart. After his stint on the Post-Dispatch, he became a political reporter in Springfield, later moved up to Chicago for the A. P. during gang-war days. In 1937, Akers took a fling at politics himself and wound up as an assistant to Interior Secretary Harold Ickes. But he soon beat a hasty retreat. "Anybody who leaves the newspaper business for a political job," he says now, "is kind of silly...