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Ted Williams, who flew for the Marines during World War II and in Korea, was recently instructed in the mechanics of getting a Boeing 747 airborne. Compared to getting the Senators off the ground, it's a piece of cake.

Dr. Denton Cooley, who has done more heart transplants than anyone else, has agreed to accept a Tennessee Walking Horse in payment for the open-heart surgery he recently performed on a 2-year-old girl. The child's family had no medical insurance, so its physician, Dr. Robert Westbrook, offered Dr. Cooley the mare. "I asked him what should be done with the horse when it arrived in Houston," reports Dr. Westbrook, "and he told me just to park it in front of the hospital and come get him."

The Patriots' Jim Nance and former pro basketball player Wayne Embry, now director of recreation for the Boston park system, recently risked their necks judging The Great Boston Kite Festival, which was held on the Franklin Park golf course. Some 6,000 kites had to be judged for prizes in 44 categories ranging from the simplicity of "highest flying kite" through "kite that most resembles its owner" to "Gem√ºtlichkite." There were round kites, box kites, plain balloons, a 22-foot Chinese centipede kite made by the Chen family of Dorchester, a 24-foot "series of pyramids composed of four equal triangles" created by a Harvard physics project team (it flew) and a mess of poles and bedsheets that a U. of Mass. student described as "a sort of triangular box kite with wings" (it didn't). The festival did leave Nance a little stiff in the neck, but he approved. "I had my doubts," he said. "After all, who ever heard of anyone enjoying flying a kite unless you were a little kid? But there were hundreds of people—old people, rich people and poor people—all out there flying kites. I came away from the day thinking that millions of dollars are being spent trying to promote human relations, and it was done on a golf course in Boston by a lot of people just flying kites."

The Minneapolis Theatre Company is putting on Julius Caesar, and Director Edward Call had trouble finding a recording of a crowd shouting "Hail, Caesar!" until Twins President Calvin Griffith offered him the use of the Twins' fans. Call accepted, and before a recent game he directed the crowd in the ancient salute, recording it to his satisfaction just in time. The crowd was shouting "Hail" but what it got was rain.

"He's built like a bull and bellows like one," said the new father, a literary man, soon after his son was born. Forty years later Patrick Hemingway is an instructor at Tanzania's College of African Wildlife Management. "The present pupils...are the men who will save and nurture what is left of Africa's long-ravaged game population," he says. "They have learned that the wild beasts are not just meat on the hoof but, through tourism, help to provide schools and hospitals while belonging to the lasting beauty of Africa."

Sitting with a glass of gin in one hand and patting his stomach with the other, Richard Burton spoke highly of his wife's reducing exercises. "I started doing them with her and I've lost 14 pounds," he said. Elizabeth reportedly has gained 28.

For years Gordie Howe has vacationed at Homosassa Springs, Fla., where he watches fish, feeds alligators, pats deer. "He is a very gentle man," says the park's PR director. This may come as a surprise to Howe's opponents—and a relief to his fan, Tiny Tim, who recently said, deploring violence, that if he were NHL commissioner "players could push each other, but gently."

The Rev. Robert Richards is at it again. He has left from California to jog and bicycle across the country in order to promote fitness. Also strength, courage, challenge, clean living, doing the impossible, faith, the American Dream and, of course, Wheaties. "We want to do something dramatic to show a need for fitness," Richards says, but it is not easy to see how demonstrating that you are fit dramatizes the need for fitness. Reverend Bob's one real worry in all of this is said to be "getting bumped off by a car, some kook coming over a hill and not seeing me." Now there is a circumstance that would dramatize the need for fitness.

Dr. Paul Dudley White recently warned that jogging may not be the safest way to fitness, but he is being ignored in Philadelphia by Mrs. T. Charlton Henry. Mrs. Henry, who is frequently described in the press as "one of America's last grandes dames" insists upon jogging for half an hour every day and walks four miles as well. She certainly sounds healthy enough, but she should probably pay attention to Dr. White. After all, the man is 83 years old, and Mrs. Henry is only 82.