Synopsis[ edit ] Susy Hendrix is a blind Greenwich Village housewife who becomes the target of three con-men searching for the heroin hidden in a doll, which her husband Sam unwittingly transported from Canada as a favor to a woman who has since been murdered.
The armistice was signed this morning. Everything for which America fought has been accomplished. It will now be our fortunate duty to assist by example, by sober, friendly counsel, and by material aid in the establishment of just democracy throughout the world. Never was a document more Wilsonian.
In those three sentences spoke the Puritan schoolmaster, cool in a time of great emotions, calmly setting the lesson for the day: Yet the spirit of the message suggests, at the same time, that of another war President. It was such a document as Lincoln might have written.
But if the man in the White House was thinking of Abraham Lincoln as he wrote those sentences--and no doubt he was--there was something which perhaps he overlooked. Counsels of idealism sometimes fail in the relaxation that comes with peace.
Lincoln had not lived to see what happens to a policy of "sober, friendly counsel" in a post-war decade; he had been taken off in the moment of triumph. Woodrow Wilson was not to be so fortunate.
It was not quite three o'clock in the morning when the State Department gave out to the dozing newspapermen the news that the Armistice had really been signed. Four days before, a false report of the end of hostilities had thrown the whole United States into a delirium of joy.
People had poured out of offices and shops and paraded the streets singing and shouting, ringing bells, blowing tin horns, smashing one another's hats, cheering soldiers in uniform, draping themselves in American flags, gathering in closely packed crowds before the newspaper bulletin boards, making a wild and hilarious holiday; in New York, Fifth Avenue had been closed to traffic and packed solid with surging men and women, while down from the windows of the city fluttered tons of ticker tape and torn paper.
It did not seem possible that such an outburst could be repeated. By half-past four on the morning of the 11th, sirens, whistles, and bells were rousing the sleepers in a score of American cities, and newsboys were shouting up and down the dark streets.
At first people were slow to credit the report; they had been fooled once and were not to be fooled again. The words brought incredible relief. A new era of peace and of hope was beginning--had already begun.
So the tidings spread throughout the country. In city after city mid-morning found offices half deserted, signs tacked up on shop doors reading "Closed for the Kaiser's Funeral," people marching up and down the streets again as they had four days previously, pretty girls kissing every soldier they saw, automobiles slowly creeping through the crowds and intentionally backfiring to add to the noise of horns and rattles and every other sort of din-making device.
Eight hundred Barnard College girls snake-danced on Morningside Heights in New York; and in Times Square, early in the morning, a girl mounted the platform of "Liberty Hall," a building set up for war-campaign purposes, and sang the "Doxology" before hushed crowds. Yet as if to mock the Wilsonian statement about "sober, friendly counsel," there were contrasting celebrations in which the mood was not that of pious thanksgiving, but of triumphant hate.
Crowds burned the Kaiser in effigy.
In New York, a dummy of the Kaiser was washed down Wall Street with a firehose; men carried a coffin made of soapboxes up and down Fifth Avenue, shouting that the Kaiser was within it, "resting in pieces"; and on Broadway at Seventieth Street a boy drew pictures of the Kaiser over and over again on the sidewalk, to give the crowds the delight of trampling on them.
So the new era of peace began. But a million men--to paraphrase Bryan--cannot spring from arms overnight.
There were still over three and a half million Americans in the military service, over two million of them in Europe. Even after the tumult and shouting of November 11th had died, the Expeditionary Forces were still in the trenches, making ready for the long, cautious march into Germany; civilians were still saving sugar and eating strange dark breads and saving coal; it was not until ten days had passed that the "lightless" edict of the Fuel Administration was withdrawn, and Broadway and a dozen lesser white ways in other cities blazed once more; the railroads were still operated by the government, and one bought one's tickets at United States Railroad Administration Consolidated Ticket Offices; the influenza epidemic, which had taken more American lives than had the Germans, and had caused thousands of men and women to go about fearfully with white cloth masks over their faces, was only just abating; the newspapers were packed with reports from the armies in Europe, news of the revolution in Germany, of Mr.
Wilson's peace preparations, of the United War Work Campaign, to the exclusion of almost everything else; and day after day, week after week, month after month, the casualty lists went on, and from Maine to Oregon men and women searched them in daily apprehension. November would normally have brought the climax of the football season, but now scratch college teams, made up mostly of boys who had been wearing the uniform of the Students' Army Training Corps, played benefit games "to put the War Work Fund over the top"; and further to strengthen the will to give, Charlie Brickley of Harvard drop-kicked a football across Wall Street into the arms of Jack Gates of Yale on the balcony of the Stock Exchange.
· Though he was a reluctant writer and completed only three plays in his career, two have become classics: the London-based stage thriller Dial M for Murder, which was later filmed in Hollywood by Alfred Hitchcock, and the chilling play Wait Until Dark, which also became a Hollywood ashio-midori.com and career · Bibliography · References · External linksashio-midori.com Obituaries for the last 7 days on Your Life ashio-midori.com Wait Until Dark is an innovative, highly entertaining and suspenseful thriller about a blind housewife, Susy Hendrix (Audrey Hepburn).
Independent and resourceful, Susy is learning to cope with ashio-midori.com · So, I was thrilled to see two old friends on stage in AAAA’s current production of Wait Until Dark.
Written in the ’s, this is a classic thriller. Written in the ’s, this is a classic ashio-midori.com://ashio-midori.com · A recently blinded woman is terrorized by a trio of thugs while they search for a heroin-stuffed doll they believe is in her ashio-midori.com://ashio-midori.com · Although The Jackal is one of my favorite films, due to the fine acting of all the principal players (especially Diane Venora), and good direction of the action scenes, the plot contains an amazing number of outright ludicrous elements that I must ashio-midori.com://ashio-midori.com