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

In Mexico City, former U.S. Ambassador William O'Dwyer announced what was expected: he is going to remain south of the border--far from New York City and any embarrassing grand-jury questions on his administration of the city. Senor O'Dwyer explained that shortly before retiring as ambassador he had asked for and received the status of immigrant to Mexico. As such, he will keep his U.S. citizenship. His new job: partner in a local law firm in the capacity of "legal advisor," since only Mexican citizens may actually practice law. Meanwhile, ecclesiastical law was moving toward a decision on O'Dwyer's separation from Sloan Simpson. The archbishop of Mexico announced that steps were being taken to have the marriage annulled.

In Korea, Marine Captain Ted Williams, former Boston Red Sox slugging outfielder, finished his first combat mission as a jet pilot. In a 200-plane strike at a Red supply center near Pyongyang, Williams' Panther jet was struck by ground fire, and started to blaze. With a dead radio, wing flaps and wheels stuck and the airspeed indicator out, he nursed his jet back to the nearest forward air base, where he walked away from a crash landing. Said he: "There was nothing to do but belly in . . ."

The federal parole board in Washington denied parole requests from Gambler Frank Costello, in prison in Milan, Mich, serving 18 months for contempt of Congress, and Benjamin Davis, one of the eleven top U.S. Communist leaders, serving five years at Terre Haute, Ind.

A Washington reporter was interested in how John L. Lewis celebrated his 73rd birthday, but Old Miner Lewis was not interested in talking. He took the morning off (a fairly unusual occurrence), showed up in the office during the afternoon to clean up his desk, and at day's end clapped on his hat and departed, keeping his own counsel.

From Vienna came word that a group of dedicated Czech artists were hard at work on a heroic present for the boss's 75th birthday next year: a 90-ft. statue of Joseph Stalin in pink stone.

In Washington, First Lady Mamie Eisenhower was hostess at her first official luncheon. The guests: wives of Cabinet members (except Mrs. John Foster Dulles, who was ill) and ladies of rank in the new Administration. After lunch in the State dining room (brilliant with yellow roses, white snapdragons, blue irises and that old standby from the botanical gardens, Baker fern) with music by the Marine band's orchestra, the ladies lined up for a smiling record of the party.

Louis ("Satchmo") Armstrong arrived in Chicago for a theater engagement with his usual load of patent medicines and some ready advice for flu sufferers. Said he: "People wouldn't have flu at all if they'd watch the gargle and the eyewash and drink plenty of Pluto water."

A onetime landmark in Bridgeport, Conn, was marked for demolition by a real-estate developer: the full-size house with doll-size furnishings built in 1863 for the 31-in.-high circus midget Tom Thumb, who gained world fame and fortune with Circus Tycoon P. T. Barnum.

Buckingham Palace announced that Queen Mother Elizabeth and Princess Margaret will fly by Comet jet airliner from London to Southern Rhodesia next June to open a Cecil Rhodes centenary exhibition.

Track expert Alfred Gwynn Vanderbilt offered a reason for the healthy economic condition of horse racing: "The mutuel ticket is the only thing that has not gone up in price. It still sells for $2."

Soprano Maria Meneghini Callas, 29-year-old Brooklyn-born U.S. citizen and currently undisputed prima donna of Italian opera, signed a contract last month to make her U.S. debut in La Traviata at the Metropolitan. Last week she canceled the contract. Reason: a clause which provided that her husband Giovanni Battista Meneghini, an industrialist, would make the trip with her. The clause could not be fulfilled, despite the efforts of Met-Manager Rudolf Bing. The U.S. Consulate in Venice refused to give Giovanni a visa on the grounds that he could not prove intention to return to Italy.

Palm Beach was titillated by the off-again-on-again marriage plans of Horace E. Dodge Jr., 52-year-old heir of motor millions, who recently settled $1,000,000 on wife No. 4 so that he could take No. 5, ex-Showgirl Gregg Sherwood, 26. One of the reported spats occurred around vichyssoise time at lunch one day, when Gregg dropped the word that she had imported a Manhattan pressagent to help spread the tidings of her forthcoming wedding. This spoiled lunch for Horace, who fumed, "What am I, a dancer? I want publicity?" But on Valentine's Day all was well, and the marriage was on again. Said a mollified Horace: "Miss Sherwood and I will be married as soon as my divorce is registered in Kentucky and the Florida license is granted . . ." After that: a honeymoon trip to Rio de Janeiro and England.

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