Friday, Nov. 14, 1969
It looks very much like murder, and there is even a suspect. But the statute of limitations on the crime surely ran out 3,300 years ago. The case was re-opened after Dr. Ronald Harrison, a British anatomist, received permission from the Egyptian government to X-ray the mummified remains of King Tutankhamen. He hoped to establish Tut's possible relationship to another mummified ruler (now believed to have been Tut's brother), and upon examining the skull he observed a gaping wound on the left side; there was also, according to the professor, an extreme thinning of the occipital bone in the back of the head, indicative of cerebral hemorrhage. "The evidence isn't conclusive yet, and the young King may have died from a fall from a chariot or during a hunting accident," said Harrison. "But I'm inclined to think that it was from a blow or blows." On the theory that Tut could have been the victim of foul play, Egyptologists are pointing accusing fingers at his adviser, a powerful priest named Ay, who succeeded him on the throne.
Bounding through a mountain meadow near his Bavarian hunting lodge with his dirndled bride-to-be, Playboy Guenter Sachs, 36, was a sight right out of The Sound of Music. The wholesome-as-apple-strudel image is for real, Sachs assured the press, after announcing his engagement to Swedish Model Mirja Larsson, 26. Mirja's father, a stern Stockholm real estate man, demanded and got a promise of good behavior from the German Lothario, who was recently divorced from Brigitte Bardot. Confided Guenter: "Ever since I've met Mirja, I'm measuring women differently." Said Mirja: "I'm not afraid of his past. It doesn't touch me. In him I've found the husband I always dreamed of."
"I used to fantasize even when I was little about being an actress," said Tisa Farrow, Mia's 18-year-old kid sister. Now her dreams are reality. "But if I don't like it, I'll quit," she insists. "It wouldn't be beneath me to go back to work again as a cocktail waitress." It would certainly be a lot safer. Tisa's acting debut, as the female lead in the film Homer, has been an odyssey of misadventure. On location near Toronto, she stepped in a groundhog hole and pulled a tendon in her leg. A week later, while hobbling about on a cane, she was bitten by a rabid cat and forced to undergo a painful series of 16 rabies shots in her stomach. Finally, she and a producer of the film got involved in a restaurant scrap--during which Tisa was kicked square in her already tender midriff.
Walking through the bush in Kenya's Meru National Park, Feline Fancier Joy Adamson had a sad reunion with an old friend. There before her was a male lion, terribly emaciated and in great pain from a broken leg as well as an eight-inch porcupine quill that had pierced its upper lip. It was Boy, one of the Adamsons' pet cats, who had starred in the film version of her bestseller, Born Free. Mrs. Adamson ran toward him with a cry of pity; the lion answered with a roar of recognition. In his fourth year in the wild, he had apparently been crippled in a fight with a powerful Cape buffalo. Starving, he had tried small game and unwisely chosen a porcupine. George Adamson, Joy's husband, removed the quill and stayed overnight with Boy to protect him from hyenas. Then the Adamsons fed him a goat and drove him to their camp, where veterinarians performed an emergency operation and reported that he might survive.
South Africa's apartheid rulers turned furiously on the nation's favorite, Heart Surgeon Christiaan Barnard, when the doctor made it plain that he has been thinking as well as socializing in the course of his frequent travels. Barnard told a Capetown audience that, when he was asked "why we charged a Chinese woman and a white man under an immorality act after they had lived together for 30 years, I could not answer. Can you?" Die Transvaler, the leading newspaper of the ruling National Party, reacted with a warning to "steer clear of politics," while another paper advised Barnard to leave politics to "more capable people." But this rap on the knuckles only led the good doctor to make his point all over again. "What do I do as a doctor?" he said to reporters. "Where does my duty lie? This type of suffering is so great, it cannot be compared to the suffering of a patient with a hole in the heart."
According to his football coach, the freshman from South Bend, Ind., "has no real talent, but he's got great desire." And a great name. Knute Rockne III, grandson of the fabled Notre Dame coach, is a 19-year-old of modest athletic skills ("I'm not rather large, I'm not rather strong, and I'm not rather quick"), who returns kicks, fills in as linebacker and hustles full time for Utah State, his father's alma mater. At 5 ft. 11 in. and 170 lbs., he may never be a regular, but the young man is primarily interested in a coaching career. At Notre Dame? "Yes, sir, I'd like that," he confessed. "But, gosh, that's almost too much to think about. My grandfather earned his name. I want to earn mine."
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