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"The next year, when I was winning 27 and he was going bad, he'd say, 'Roomie, how come you get all the phone calls and I get none?'
"Then the year after that we both went bad and the phone stopped ringing altogether. Campy would say, 'Man, this is awful. Nobody calls us. I left a 10 o'clock wake-up with the hotel operator this morning and even she didn't call. I guess that means we are really lousy.'
"My roomie was the greatest," said Newcombe. "Make that is the greatest. When I was down, he picked me up. When he was down, he picked himself up. When we both was down, he picked us both up."
Around the Dodger camp this spring, players are usually greeted with two questions: "How you been?" and, "How's Campy doing?" The Community Hospital at Glen Cove, N.Y. reports that Roy Campanella is doing very well. He has been a patient there since his neck was broken January 28 in an automobile accident which almost certainly put an end to his baseball career. He is still paralyzed from the shoulders down but can now move his wrists and straighten out his arms. In the near future, the hospital authorities say, Campanella will be allowed to receive visitors. Meanwhile, both at the hospital and at his home, people who want to know how Campy is doing keep the phones ringing day after day. They are not Dodger fans, of course, since there are no longer Dodgers in Brooklyn. They are former Dodger fans who are Campanella fans still.
Alert for Suburbia
The talk these days runs to travel in outer space, but a Detroit automotive engineer thinks there are still a few improvements to be made in surface travel right here on this old-fashioned earth. The engineer, D. C. Woods, in a paper delivered before a meeting of colleagues, said that there are unlimited possibilities in the design of that bane and boon of the suburban housewife, the station wagon.
The station wagon of the future, Mr. Woods confides, will be a kind of living room on wheels with cooking facilities, television, built-in bunks, plumbing, bridge tables, even revolving lounge chairs and, presumably, wall-to-wall carpeting. Of course, Mr. Woods intends this rolling home to be used for long family trips, but the prospect is that the suburban housewife, who now doubles as taxicab driver in delivering her husband to the station, her children to school and her neighbors to the Red Cross, one day may find herself not only keeping house, but keeping the station wagon, too.
Or, just possibly, the wives would prefer that Engineer Woods keep it—all of it.
Sage of Sagamore
Through the years, Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt, the restless 45-year-old sportsman, has built a glowing reputation as a genius in the naming of the Thoroughbreds that rolled off his Sagamore Farm in Glyndon, Md.