Born. To Svetlana Alliluyeva Peters, 45, Joseph Stalin’s only daughter, and William Wesley Peters, 58, Architect Frank Lloyd Wright’s longtime assistant and now vice president of the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation: a daughter; in San Rafael, Calif. Name: Olga. “This pretty girl makes another strong link between this country and myself,” said Mrs. Peters, whose two grown children by previous marriages still live in the Soviet Union.
Died. Ogden Nash, 68, American master of light verse and champion of the outrageous rhyme (see THE NATION).
Died. Dennis King, 73, actor; in Manhattan. British-born King began his 60-year career in the theater at the age of 14 as a callboy, and by 1925 achieved matinee-idol status portraying François Villon in Rudolf Friml’s musical The Vagabond King. When he starred three years later in The Three Musketeers, one critic wrote: “He has the voice of a canary, the grace of a swallow and the valor of an eagle.” Equally at home in operettas and Shakespearean tragedies, the versatile baritone counted A Doll’s House, Billy Budd, Rose-Marie and Affair of Honor among his numerous stage credits. King also starred in several Hollywood films and occasionally appeared on television. He was last seen on Broadway as the host of a transvestite ball in the 1969 production of A Patriot for Me.
Died. Gregory Peter Cardinal Agagianian, 75, scholarly Armenian-born prelate and twice (1958 and 1963) a leading non-Italian candidate for Pope; of cancer; in Rome. After studying for the priesthood in Rome, Agagianian returned to Soviet Georgia as a parish priest and in 1937 became Beirut-based patriarch of 100,000 Armenian Catholics. Nine years later he was made the second Armenian cardinal in the history of the church. The Vatican’s resident expert on Soviet affairs and master of eleven languages, he also headed Roman Catholic missions throughout the world from 1960 to 1970.
Died. Donald F. Duncan, 78, popularizer of Yo-Yos and parking meters; of a stroke; in Los Angeles. When he first saw Filipino immigrants playing with a crude toy in the late 1920s, Duncan was not impressed: “It looked like nothing, like a potato on a string.” So he devised a slip string that let the wooden “potato” spin, registered the name Yo-Yo and embarked on a high-power promotion campaign. Youngsters looped the loop to the tune of up to $7,000,000 annually in sales for Duncan. Although he made another fortune by manufacturing parking meters, Duncan’s Yo-Yo firm was forced into bankruptcy after his retirement in 1957.
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