(2 of 3)
Teammate Count Wolfgang von Trips, was sidelined with the rest of the Ferrari contingent during last weekend's U.S. Grand Prix at Watkins Glen, N.Y. Asked if he was through with racing, the son of a late Santa Monica postmaster throttled his interrogator with a question of his own: "Isn't it a fine thing that Von Trips died doing something he loved, without any suffering, without any warning?" Hill's clincher: "Only when I love motor racing less will my own life be worth more to me, and only then will I be less willing to risk it."
Fortnight after her death from cancer at 61, the will of Cinemactress Marion Davies ultraconservatively revealed assets "in excess of $8,000,000." To her husband Captain Horace G. Brown, the ex-cop and mariner with whom she ricocheted into marriage after the 1951 death of her great and good friend, William Randolph Hearst, she bequeathed a monthly income of $3,000. Dividing the bulk of her residual estate: a sister, a nephew, a niece wedded to Cinemactor Arthur ("Dagwood") Lake.
No sooner had Bobby Kennedy and Protocol Chief Angier Biddle Duke led an Executive-branch exodus from Washington's segregated Metropolitan Club (which excludes African ambassadors, reprimanded ex-Assistant Secretary of Labor George Cabot Lodge for inviting a Negro luncheon guest) than top Presidential Assistant McGeorge Bundy ponied up the initiation fee (usually about $600) to fill the highly prized gap.* Explained the Boston-born erstwhile dean of the Harvard faculty, who, as a member of a new Administration, got into the elect without the accustomed ten-year waiting period: "This is a problem of personal judgment."
Lest the fifth in succession to the British throne be a titleless blighter named Jones, Queen Elizabeth II named her expecting brother-in-law, Antony Armstrong-Jones, 31, to the Earldom of Snowdon. If Princess Margaret's soon-to-be-born is a son, he will take the subsidiary title Viscount Linley; if a daughter, she will be known as Lady (Christian name) Armstrong-Jones. The expectant mother's new designation: Her Royal Highness the Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowdon. While the onetime society photographer publicly accepted "with great pleasure," the British press and public mourned the loss of a commoner. Wondered the Daily Mirror (which promised to continue referring to him as "Mr. Jones, or, better still, Tony"): "Why disguise this sensible and modest young chap in tinsel and ermine?" After investigating Mayor Robert Wagner's chicanery a la king luncheon that skinned $25,000 in campaign contributions from 43 fat cats in the construction and real estate business (TIME, Oct. 6), the New York City Board of Ethics ruled the shakedown legal but "offensive to proper ethical standards." The finding by the Wagner-appointed body (whose chairman himself kicked in $100 to the Democratic crusade) was greeted as a "moral indictment" by Republican Candidate Louis J. Lefkowitz. Incumbent Bob Wagner seemed to agree: he had already accepted the resignation of the city planning commissioner presiding at the shindig, disgorged the $25,000 table scraps right back to the donors.