Word: sinclair
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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People who thought Harry Ford Sinclair would retire to the background when his company merged with Prairie Oil and became Consolidated Oil Corp. did not know what energy there is left in the 56-year-old, broadfaced, clamp-mouthed tycoon...
...still in business up to both elbows, from service station to executive sanctum. Last week, for example, Oilman Sinclair wanted to be in Los Angeles. He left Manhattan for Chicago. There, in the morning, he saw two bankers about his company's business, met with a vice president and the district managers. He kept a business appointment in nearby Barrington. The next day he flew to Tulsa, central operating point for his company and terminus for its big telegraph system. He passed two days meeting with depart mental managers, discussing leases, pur chases, operations. The next day he flew...
...corner has been turned. Co-operation of domestic producers has boosted the U. S. price of crude and the big international companies have shown a spirit of co-operation which is expected to lead to agreements. Several companies have already made enough money to pay their 1932 dividends. Mr. Sinclair last week said that in June alone Consolidated earned its 1932 preferred dividends. Most of the big companies do not report except yearly. The following earnings table shows first-half reports thus far issued: (D = deficit...
...Star Spangled Banner" is "Anacreon in Heaven." It is "The Eyes of Texas." There was a president of the University of Texas [William L. Prather-ED.], a generation ago, whose pet admonition to the undergraduates was, "Remember, the eyes of Texas are upon you." A collegian [John Lang Sinclair- ED. J to express irreverent student sentiment toward the repetitious phrase, wrote certain words to a popular air, and loudly a group of young men-keeping themselves well back in the shadows to avoid identification-serenaded the president with them one night. They harmonized : The eyes of Texas are upon...
...modern operator of those old-fashioned mills of God which grind so notoriously slowly and even more notoriously small. Author Rothermell in his 14th novel (his first 13 he destroyed) pulverizes his hero to the vanishing point. The somewhat grisly story, which owes debts to Sinclair Lewis's Arrowsmith, he tells with a workmanlike resolution oddly contrasted with his two chief characters' feckless attitude of laissez faire...