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Word: pressroom (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1940-1949
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Usage:

...prove that its shocking picture of the electrocution of Gunman James Morelli three weeks ago was no fake, the Chicago Herald-American last week uncorked a full page of photos explaining how the trick was done. As pressroom gossips had suspected, Herald-American Photographer Joe Migon had pulled back the lining of his shoe, chiseled a hole in the heel big enough to hold a tiny (3 by 1 by ¾ in.) Minox camera, then concealed it with the lining. Migon had thus carried the camera undetected past the X-ray eyes of the Cook County jail "inspecto-scope," which...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Press: Pious Service | 12/19/1949 | See Source »

...last week, Myrtle Bergheim, secretary to presidential Press Secretary Charles G. Ross, stuck her head into the White House pressroom. "The Boss says don't go away," said Myrtle. "He might have a little something later...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Press: A Little Something | 10/3/1949 | See Source »

...reporters hit the foyer at a dead run, tore through the lobby, and smashed the nose of a stuffed deer on their dash to pressroom telephones. "Bulletin! Bulletin!" shouted Tony Vaccaro of the Associated Press. Said Smith to the U.P.: "Flash!" Bob Nixon yelped at the International News Service switchboard: "Flash, goddammit, gimme the desk!" At 11:05, bells on U.P. and I.N.S. tickers in hundreds of newspapers signaled the big news flash. Three minutes later, the A.P.'s bulletin was on the wire...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Press: A Little Something | 10/3/1949 | See Source »

While a federal jury in Washington struggled over two million words of testimony in her turbulent trial for espionage, slim, dark-haired Judith Coplon, 28, curled up in a chair in the courthouse pressroom and chatted with newsmen. "Let's not talk about the trial," smiled Judy. "I'm all talked...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: ESPIONAGE: Guilty! | 7/11/1949 | See Source »

Emmett Gary Middlecoff, the golfing dentist from Memphis, sank his final putt for a 286 and began his deathwatch. In the pressroom at Medinah Country Club, 23 miles from Chicago, he dragged alternately at a cigarette and two double-Bourbons with Coke. His wife, Edith, was weeping with excitement, and a friend was prematurely pounding him on the back and burbling, "Boy, you're the champ . . . what a homecoming Memphis will put on for you." Reporters were dispassionately batting out new leads about the biggest golf tournament of them all-the U.S. Open...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Sport: That Damned Seventeenth | 6/20/1949 | See Source »

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