Word: concord
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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John M. Bullitt, from a stategic artillery position atop Quincy House, seizes control of Harvard. Elliott flees to Concord. Bundy and Peron move into Argentina, but the country is destroyed by a faulty U.S. missile broadcasting the "Battle Hymn of the Republic." Bernard Goldfine comes out of retirement to become Dean of Harvard. From her cell his secretary, a Miss Paperman, reports that he is taking advisement under a typing exam...
Even though it was December, the winter around us with all its vital austerity, I asked her to my room again and again. But again and again, Snyde stayed around. Snyde--blond, from Beacon Hill, via Concord Reformatory--I hated him. He stayed around, picking his nose, reading old Crime book reviews and playing those acid esoteric Mozart quartets when I wanted Fantasy in Flyland and Ravel to work upon her soul...
...morale, the hope is that the Crimson may have the advantage. Certainly John Yovicsin had done his best to make it that way. Last night out at the varsity's retreat in Concord, Yovicsin had done his best to make it that way. Last night out at the varsity's retreat in Concord, Yovicsin had some special before-bed entertainment for his charges. It was the film of last year's game...
...Goat's Nest and the other groups which divided their time between Cronin's and the basement of Claverly were carried-over hell-raisers from another era which Jim remembers: the years of prohibition. Jim Seniors place was up on the Hill between Concord and Huron Avenues, doing a brisk food business near the then-buzzing Harvard Observatory. Old Cronin kept his hands off the local moonshine trade, and Cambridge presented him with its first liquor license when the dry years ended. The old man was a fiery red-head whose work in Ireland had netted him the title...
...great Gygian load, the excrescence of the social organism of Concord, will be there and it certainly can't be wished away. The dilemma arises: should the citizens unload their perpetual clutter within the sight and smell of their progeny, making them conscious early of the great and ineluctable junk that fills the world? Or should the youth be saved, and instead men's trash fill smooth the rugged face of old New England tradition...