Names make news. Last week these names made this news:
In Colorado visiting friends, Baritone Paul Robeson, great and good friend of the U.S.S.R., intoned an off-key lament. His appearances were getting harder and harder to arrange in the crass concert halls of Capitalism. "I think I find more difficulty here in Denver than anywhere," wailed the burly (6 ft. 5 in., 265 Ibs.) singer. "And that's no credit to Denver, since I still remain one of the greatest singers and actors in the world."
Just two weeks after a friend published an article that described him as "The Senate's Gay Young Bachelor," Massachusetts' Senator John F. Kennedy, 36, son of Joseph P. Kennedy, onetime (1937-41) Ambassador to the Court of St. James's, became engaged to sultry Socialite Jacqueline Bouvier, 23, onetime Washington Times-Herald Inquiring Photographer. Two days later, caught in a Manhattan traffic jam, Jacqueline kept Jack waiting until the last nervous second before they took off for a Cape Cod weekend. Said the nonchalant young Senator to reporters: "This is the first of many, I guess, as you married men must know."
In Manhattan for a quick taste of town life before hunting elephants in Africa, Pulitzer Prizewinning Novelist Ernest (The Old Man and the Sea) Hemingway made copy for Columnist Leonard Lyons merely by talking like Hemingway. ". . . On the train to New York he had sneezed —and his belt burst. He bought a new one, 40 waist. 'Used to be 48 chest, 38 waist,' he said. He bought a pistol: 'Good around camp for small game, friends and intruders.' . . . [Restaurateur] Toots Shor told of Hemingway and Hugh Casey, the late Dodger pitcher, trading blows while standing in an open doorway in Havana. A knockdown every punch. Papa won. He never even lost a tooth. 'Spitting teeth is for suckers,' he said ... He hailed a cab. 'Sutton Place South,' he told the driver, then spoke some words in Italian. 'You an Italian boy?' the driver asked, and he said he was from north of Venice . . . 'Then what are you doing on Sutton Place South?' 'Doin' good,' said Ernest Hemingway. 'Doin' pretty good.' "
Christine Jorgensen arrived in Chicago from Bloomington, Ind. and announced: "I gave Dr. Kinsey a full report—the same as millions of other women have done." Zoologist Alfred C. Kinsey, whose Institute for Sex Research has taken 7,800 case histories of women, did not say whether he had put Transvestite Jorgensen's data in his male or female file. Instead, exhausted from laboring on his forthcoming book, Dr. Kinsey went into a hospital for a short rest and checkup.
After squiring Miss America, Neva Jane Langley, around Vancouver, B.C. Reporter Jack Wasserman began to worry about the future of the race. "I walked through Stanley Park on Sunday with the prettiest girl in North America, and nobody even whistled—in fact, we had a hard time getting served at the park popcorn concession." Even more disillusioning, Neva refused to pose for cheesecake, because "the winner is picked for beauty, poise and talent, so posing in a bathing suit would undo all the good work the foundation is trying to do."