Names make news. Last week, these names made this news:

Biology Student Jon Lindbergh, 20, second son of Aviator Charles A. Lindbergh, docked at Hoboken, N.J., sporting a stubby beard. Jon was ship's biologist during the 87-day oceanographic cruise of the tug Kevin Moran, which scoured the Atlantic from New England to the Azores, covering 10,000 miles. Prize discovery, according to Columbia Geologist W. Maurice Ewing, head of the expedition, was a mysterious submarine canyon, 250-300 ft. deep, winding 800 miles across the mid-ocean floor three miles below the surface.

In Rome, Cinemactress Anna (Open City) Magnani went to court to explain why she had not paid the Italian custom duties on a 1948 Buick which she has been driving for three years. She bought the car, Anna said, thinking everything was in legal order, but "I was swindled."

Celebrating his 81st birthday at the Bethesda Naval Hospital in Maryland, former Secretary of State Cordell Hull got a birthday cake, spent the rest of the day reading, listening to the radio, visiting with his wife and friends.

In Louisville, Ky., Vice President Alben Berkley helped observe National Newspaper Week by helping his great-nephew Johnny Dyson, 13, deliver the Paducah Sun Democrat to a few houses. Said Barkley to one housewife: ". . . I'm taking subscriptions in advance." Told she was paid up until January, the Veep replied: "That's fine. I'll be back; I'm going to be out of a job the first of the year anyway."

More than 700 guests turned out in their best diamonds and shiniest Cadillacs for a lavish, $25,000 Beverly Hills party given by onetime Cinemactress Marion Davies. Her guest of honor: Sobsinger Johnnie Ray, whom she had never met until that evening. Said Marion: "I wanted to have some fun before I die, and this seemed like a good excuse to do it." The party was set mainly in a canopied patio where tables groaned with quartered chickens, beef tenderloins, caviar and champagne. The fish pond was lined with rosebushes hung with gardenias. The bar, long enough to accommodate 150 people, was manned by seven bartenders; 17 violinists, with the help of two regular-size orchestras, supplied the music. Among the all-star list of well-behaved, moderate-drinking guests: the Jack Bennys, the Gary Coopers, the Danny Kayes, Ava Gardner, Judy Garland, Lana Turner, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Spike Jones, Joan Crawford.

In Tokyo, representatives of the National Council of Churches of Christ in America presented Far East Commander General Mark Clark and South Korean President Syngman Rhee with the first two copies of the new Revised Standard Version of the Bible.

War Correspondent Marguerite Higgins told, in This Week magazine, of the time she greeted General Douglas MacArthur after the liberation of Seoul, two years ago: "'Hi, General! Congratulations on this victory!' . . . MacArthur came to a dead stop. Then ... he waved over the crowd and called back. 'Hello, tall, blonde and ugly, come up and see me some time!'"

Admiral Earl Mountbatten, commander in chief of the British Mediterranean Fleet, took time off at Naples, adjusted his undersea fishing gear, dived into the Gulf of Salerno for a little subterranean exploration.

At the Royal St. George's Golf Club in Sandwich, England, the Duke of Windsor entered the autumn tournament with a handicap of 16. Wearing a waterproof hat that looked like a combination sou'wester and deerstalker, the Duke shot a 98. Next day, on the eleventh hole, he tore up his card, told club officials: "My game's so bad it's no good going on. It's all right to be playing like this in France . . . ordinary hurdles. But this course is the Grand National of golf courses."

Celebrating his 16th anniversary as the head of the Spanish government, Dictator Francisco Franco sat on a gilded throne in Madrid's Royal Palace as his ministers, generals, admirals and other high-ranking officers filed before him, bowing. On one side of the throne room 50 envoys, including U.S. Ambassador Lincoln MacVeagh, looked on. After the ceremony, bigwigs and diplomats proceeded to the Church of St. Francis the Great for a thanksgiving ceremony with a Te Deum Mass.

Hurrying down the gangplank of the United States after it docked in Manhattan, elusive Greta Garbo spotted reporters and photographers, stopped abruptly, put on a pair of dark glasses, continued silently on.

The magazine Air Force appealed for the return to Air Force Chief of Staff General Hoyt S. Vandenberg of his $50 uniform cap, which he lost at a luncheon in Detroit in August. The general's hat was "unique and unmistakably identifiable and encrusted clear around with silver lightning." The "overzealous souvenir hunter . . . cannot brag about it to friends, nor hang it proudly over the mantel, nor wear it . . ." If the hat is returned, "the general is willing to forgive and forget with no questions asked."

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