Born. To Sophia Loren, 34, filmdom's eternal woman (Arabesque, The Countess from Hong Kong), and Carlo Ponti, 55, her producer-husband: their first child, a boy, Carlo Jr.; in Geneva. Sophia's baby--7 lbs. 11 oz. and healthy as can be--came after years of yearning and three tragic miscarriages. She was overjoyed, while the exultant new papa promised to give Geneva a $ 1,000,000 obstetrical clinic "in gratitude."

Married. Sandy Koufax, 33, former Los Angeles Dodger pitching ace and prize Hollywood bachelor, who has become one of the most popular television sportscasters on the West Coast; and Anne Widmark, 23, Actor Richard's beautiful brunette daughter, who met Sandy six months ago in Malibu when he strolled by and offered to help paint her family's beach house; both for the first time; in a civil ceremony at the Widmark home in West Los Angeles.

Married. Margaret Atkinson Loughborough Biddle, 53, widow since 1961 of former U.S. Ambassador to Spain Anthony J. Drexel Biddle, and duchess of Philadelphia's Main Line; and Colonel Edwinston Robbins, 64, retired Air Force officer and longtime friend of the Biddle clan; in a civil ceremony performed in the Temple University chapel in Philadelphia.

Died. Major Arthur W. Beckstrom, 33, highly decorated U.S. Air Force pilot (20 medals of valor, including the Silver Star and the Distinguished Flying Cross), who survived 202 combat missions in Viet Nam without serious injury; in the crash of his RF-101 Voodoo reconnaissance jet while on a training flight; near Blue Ridge, Ga.

Died. Vladimir Tytla, 64, one of the original Walt Disney cartoonists, who helped enthrall millions of youngsters in the 1930s and '40s with his airborne pachyderms (Dumbo), fearsome giants (Night on Bald Mountain) and great spouting whales (Pinocchio); of a stroke; in Flanders, Conn.

Died. George Lewis, 68, jazz clarinetist of early New Orleans vintage who started strutting to funerals with his $4 clarinet when he was 17, played with such jazz lights of the '20s and '30s as Buddy Petit and Kid Howard, later exported the doleful sound of French Quarter blues to Europe and Japan in a series of boisterously successful tours; of pneumonia; in New Orleans.

Died. Trygve Lie, 72, first Secretary-General of the United Nations from 1946 to 1953, whose efforts on behalf of world peace were most often frustrated by cold-war conflict; of a heart attack; in Geilo, Norway. An Oslo lawyer who served as Norway's Foreign Minister-in-exile during World War II, Lie sought to imbue the U.N. with his Scandinavian spirit of compromise and international cooperation. He played a significant role in ending the bloody Greek civil war, mediated the Berlin blockade crisis, and helped establish the state of Israel. Yet on the two most wrenching issues of his time--the Korean War and a U.N. seat for Communist China--the world powers were too hopelessly rent even for Lie's considerable powers of conciliation. The U.S. firmly rebuked him when he ultimately supported the admittance of Red China, and he earned the enmity of the Soviets for all time with his recommendation that the U.N. intervene in the Korean conflict. In 1950, the General Assembly still had enough faith in Lie to extend his term of office over virulent Soviet objections, but his influence continued to wane in the face of the Communists' refusal to acknowledge his authority. He also alienated his staff by allowing FBI agents to comb its ranks for "subversives," finally submitted his resignation under pressure in 1952, and returned home to write his memoirs.

Died. Gilbert Miller, 84, patriarch of theatrical producers, who lighted the Broadway and London stages with nearly 100 plays that spanned more than half a century; in Manhattan. Born to the theater (mother was an actress, father an actor-manager), Miller was also born for it, and in some ways he was his own finest production. Portly and impeccable, he lived in splendor (a 12-room Park Avenue apartment, a London town house, a Sussex country estate), was renowned as a gastronome (he would cable his dinner order across the Atlantic to ensure perfection on arrival), a connoisseur of beautiful women (three marriages) and a raconteur who could fascinate in six languages. If elegance was his lifestyle, that was also what he gave the theater. Not for him the snarl of social protest; he wished to entertain, using each success to bankroll the next and assure himself, without haggling, of the day's greatest stars. In 1916, his very first play, a comedy called Daddy Long-Legs, ran for 514 performances in London. Before long, every famed, or soon to be famed, playwright offered him works--Somerset Maugham (The Constant Wife, 1926); Philip Barry (The Animal Kingdom, 1932); Robert Sherwood (The Petrified Forest, 1935); T. S. Eliot (The Cocktail Party, 1950); Dylan Thomas (Under Milk Wood, 1957). His greatest hit came in 1935, when Victoria Regina, starring Helen Hayes, grossed $2,500,000 to rank as one of the biggest moneymakers of its time. Once, a reporter asked him if a show he was doing would make New York stand up. "The idea, I believe," he replied evenly, "is to make New York come in and sit down."

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