PART  V

CHAPTER  ONE

ARRIVING IN LOS ANGELES… NOT NEW YORK…!

     The next morning dawned gray and dismal… with the ship still buzzing… in shocked disbelief… that their glamorous… platinum       … fashion plate… Helga Miller… who had done so much… to boost morale on board… by staging all those creative… and entertaining shows… was… in fact… a diehard Hitler fanatic... a spy…! 

     And to think that she had been trying to attract the attention… of some enemy submarine destroyer… to a Dutch ship… which was supposed to be neutral… with total disregard… for her own safety... continued to boggle everybody's mind…  Only a misguided fanatic… would be prepared to risk her own life… in such a manner... 

     And poor Bill Miller… no doubt devastated… that his bride of a month… was a bedazzled Nazi… was nowhere to be seen… so that nobody was able to extend their sympathies of commiseration to him...

     The whole ship… seemed to be in a daze… and even more so… when it dawned on everybody… as we slowly sailed into harbor… as darkness fell… that the famous Statue of Liberty… which everybody on board… was eagerly looking forward to seeing…  was significantly absent... making us realize… that we were not sailing… into the famous New York Harbor… after all… and that the Captain… once again… for reasons known only to himself… was misleading his passengers...! 

     And it was only when the ship docked at its pier… that it was announced… over the loudspeaker… that we had safely arrived… at the Port of Los Angeles… in the state of California…!  Our course had been diverted… thousands of miles… across the continent… from New York…! 

     Naturally… the passengers were a bit anxious… but their fears… were somewhat allayed… when they were told… that they were now safely… on the West Coast… still in the United States of America…

     And then it was announced… that all passengers… were to immediately assemble… in the Passenger Lounge… with all their personal belongings… passports at the ready… to be handed over to the purser...  And to remain there… to await the boarding… of the customs officials... 

     This was accomplished very quickly… since everybody had been sleeping… in their clothes… already for the past three nights...

     I remember watching the bustling proceedings going on… from the roomy… comfy depths… of my lounge chair… seeing how very efficiently… the American officers… dressed to the teeth… in their shiny uniforms… smartly spruced up… some of them very handsome… quickly… with single-minded purpose… approached the purser who… with practiced  proficiency…. as if he had done this service… a million times before… silently handed each one of them… a stack of collected passports... 

     Then I saw them seat themselves… at a cleared table… from which each one of them… picking up the top passport from their pile… called out the owner's name… beckoning him to come forward... 

     And another officer stepped forward… towards the person called… and with military-like precision… immediately taking him firmly by his arm… picked up his passport… and without much preamble… staring straight ahead of him… led the man away… and off the ship... almost as if he was a prisoner… I thought to myself… becoming a bit alarmed...! 

     And it soon became clear to me… that each adult male and head… of his family… was being summoned first... and that the officers seemed to be paying scant attention… to the womenfolk… and their children...

     And when it was Papa's turn to be called… then briskly marched away… I Sent Up a silent… fervent prayer… that he would not be subjected… to the same kind of relentless… grueling interrogation… as the arrogant Japanese officials… had forced on him… daily… for over three months… at the Miharashi-bashi police station… of Yokohama… just before we made our unofficial escape from them...  

     And as I was praying to myself… I suddenly was startled to hear a woman… yelling and screaming… as if demented... and barely caught a glimpse… in the doorway of the lounge… of the platinum-white hair of Helga… as she was being led away in handcuffs… by the Military Police...

     Still shouting… about the glory of the "Fuehrer…" and the "Third Reich"... with her poor husband… trailing behind her… his head bowed… looking extremely dejected… and broken… lost and bewildered... 

     It seemed as if his whole world had fallen apart… and his gay… debonair… outgoing showman personality… always smiling… and jovial… had been markedly subdued… if not altogether destroyed...

     About only a half hour later - although it seemed to have been much longer - two officers came back on board… with only old Mr. Ruetli… in tow… Papa Rau and Mr. Behrens… noticeably absent… making my heart beat fast… with a twinge of anxiety... 

     It was easy to see… that poor old Mr. Ruetli… seemed to be in a daze… so that…  not wanting to dwell too much… on what might be happening to Papa… I quickly jumped up… went over to the dear old man… and taking him by his arm… gently led him to a comfortable chair nearby… in which… no sooner had he sat down… than he promptly fell asleep… snoring gently… his mouth slightly open...

     And before anybody could voice their fears… by questioning the officers… as to why it was… that Mr. Rau and Mr. Behrens… had not been returned… with Mr. Ruetli… they proceeded to quickly summon… the rest of the passengers… one of them curtly barking out the names… from a list held in his hand… of all the rest of the people… still left in the room… being the rest of the women... and their teenage children… 

     And assembling them together… abruptly led them away… escorting them off the ship… to join their respective spouses… and fathers… never to be seen again… by any of us..!

   Sad to say… the officers had not even allowed anybody… to say their goodbyes… for after all… spending about thirty days… together… all alone… in the vastness of the oftentimes hostile ocean… had created kind of a family bond… between the passengers… 

     It became significant to the rest of us… as our eyes met each others' questioningly… that the only ones… finally left behind… were those nine of us… who had come from Japan...! 

     And the glaring fact… that there had been a Nazi spy on board… as well - no doubt… the Americans very well aware… that Germany… was a staunch ally of Japan - probably was serving… as an even greater strike… against Papa Rau's entourage… as far as the American government was concerned...!

     Of everyone of us left behind… Xenia had been the most perturbed… fluctuating between pacing the floor... and sitting on the edge of her seat… her eyes magnified even more than usual… behind her glasses… her lips trembling... her hands shaking... 

     And with the time dragging slowly by… and it becoming obvious to her… that her precious Theodore… was not going to be restored to her… in the very near future… she broke down... bursting into tears... becoming a total nervous wreck... hysterically keening… in some kind of unintelligible Russian… one moment… dramatically wringing her hands... as if praying to her Madonna… and the next… burying her head in her lap... her body shaking convulsively...

     And whenever I tried to console her… forcing myself to put my arms… around her shoulders… and pat her on the back… because her open display of dramatic emotion… was unnerving… and embarrassing to me… and no doubt everyone else there… making me feel slightly sick with disgust… at the spectacle she was making of herself... she would either push me away violently... wailing all the more vehemently... or cling to me… for dear life… sobbing her heart out… until it became clear to me… that she utterly refused to be consoled… was in fact… enjoying being a drama queen…!

     So I left her side… secretly relieved that I no longer needed to pretend… that I sympathized with her... 

     In vast contrast… Mrs. Behrens… who was sitting at the far end of the room… was exuding an aura of quiet strength… which her baby boy… Rainer… must have felt… because throughout our trying "eleventh hour"… he kept on sleeping peacefully… cradled closely… safe and secure… in his mother's loving arms… never once waking up… no matter how loudly Xenia carried on… weeping and wailing... 

     And looking around me… I was happy to see… that Mr. Ruetli… was now spending the crucial time of waiting for Papa and Mr. Behrens… to return… dozing on and off… seemingly blissfully oblivious… of the precarious situation… we were finding ourselves in... 

     And that Prima and Remo… were sitting huddled in a corner of the room… spending their last precious moments… with their newfound Turkish friend… exchange student Abdullah... who would not be disembarking… but would be sailing on to his homeland... with Prima… every now and again… darting a look of disdain… and contempt… at drama queen Xenia… disgusted… that she was carrying on… so openly emotional... and in public…

     We could see by the clock… that it was a little past seven at night… and expected to see Papa… and Mr. Behrens… back in time for dinner… at any time now...  But soon it was seven thirty... then a quarter to eight... and still no sign of them...! 

     I must have dozed off… myself... for I was awakened by a commotion...  And hastily looking up at the large… unique helm-shaped clock… on the wall… saw… to my surprise… that it was already past ten o'clock...! 

     And as I gasped my astonishment... I saw two officials… coming through the gangplank doorway… with only Mr. Behrens… between them…! 

     My heart lurched... and as I wondered… why Papa was not with him... I noticed… with consternation… how very tired… Mr. Behrens was looking... and how… neither looking right nor left... without uttering a single word… to any of us… he immediately strode over to his wife… and sleeping son… clasping them close… to his chest… as if he had never expected… to see them again...! 

     And when I saw this touching scene… the tears sprang to my eyes... and my heart sank anew… with trepidation… wondering why Papa… had not also been brought back at the same time… and why the American officials were keeping him longer… than Mr. Behrens...

     Little did we know… how thorough… the American bureaucracy was… for as far as Theodore Rau… was concerned… regardless that he was a Swiss national… the fact that he had lived… for so many years… in Japan… establishing a vast… import/export empire… throughout the Far East… made him a prime suspect… for being a Jap sympathizer...! 

     So that the authorities… kept him detained… for seventeen long… grueling hours… the officials subjecting him… to lengthy… repeated interrogations... we learned later… asking the same politically pointed questions… over and over... going through every inch… of his and his family's personal belongings...! 

     They even played through every single record… of his cherished album collection…! just in case there were some secret codes on them… detrimental to the United States government… jeopardizing the country's security...! 

     Rare recordings of arias… sung by world famous artists… such as Enrico Caruso… the greatest tenor… that ever lived... and world famous soprano… Amelia Galli-Curchi… and the equally world famous… Russian Don Cossack Choir... and many many others… numbering in the hundreds… each record set.. having been painstakingly… and carefully wrapped… in its protective covering...
    
     It was quite apparent… that America was still reeling in shock… from the fiendish… unexpected… infamous Japanese air attack… on Pearl Harbor... and could not help… but be extremely suspicious of anybody… who had come straight from Japan… neutral of nationality… or not...!

     When Papa Rau was finally returned… again accompanied by two uniformed officers… it was mid-morning… of the next day… and we all saw… how gray and drawn… his face was... and how exhausted he looked… with his head down… and shoulders slumped... as if his spirit had been thoroughly crushed...! 

     And for the first time… since the long uncertain journey began… we saw a look… tantamount to fear… in his eyes… which affected all of us with uneasiness...  Not even the sight of his beloved Xenia… who instantly… abruptly stopped her keening in mid-stream… at the sight of her beloved Theo… dramatically rushing towards him... with her arms outstretched… changed the expression of gloom and doom… on his face...!

     Sitting down heavily… in one of the lounge chairs… he let out a long drawn-out sigh… and in a very tired voice… sounding beaten… he told the assembly standing anxiously around him…:

     "I did my very best… to convince the American authorities here… that I am only a businessman… anxious to return to his homeland… his country... Switzerland… but needing to first stop in… at his office… in the Chrysler Building… in New York…  But the fact that I have come straight from Japan… and the fact… that they are still in shock… over the attack on Pearl Harbor… is making them extremely nervous...” 

     And heaving a great big sigh… he went on…:    

     “And they are questioning whether… if they let me into their country… regardless if solely for business reasons… they might be exposing themselves… to grave risk… for I could… for all they know… be secretly spying… for the Japanese government...! 

    They specifically did not appreciate the fact… that I had lived in the Orient… for over thirty years... establishing a very successful… import/export business there… 

     So we must be prepared for the eventuality… of all of us being sent back to Japan...!  And we all know what that will mean...!"

     As the import of Papa's ominous words sank in… Xenia went as white as a sheet… and her lips started to tremble... and Prima and Remo… had a stunned look on their faces... 

     We all looked somewhat the worse for wear… and not
very rested... having tried to doze off… on the chairs in the lounge... while waiting for our patriarch to return... the slightest sound… instantly waking us... 

     And looking at my family's fearful reactions… made me… for some strange reason… I could not explain… have a sudden opposite reaction… to theirs...! 

     All of a sudden… I felt a curiously strong feeling of conviction… inside myself… that God Simply Would Never Have Allowed us… to get this far… Having Miraculously Averted danger from us… so many… many times - often almost by the skin of our teeth - only to Let us be thwarted… at this half way point… 

     And I refused to entertain the thought… for a single instant… what being sent back to Japan… would mean for the Rau entourage...:

     Certain arrest… internment... torture… and more than likely… followed by execution... for our escaping from under their very noses… had made them "lose face"... brought shame and dishonor… down upon their heads... and they most likely… would not be in a pardoning frame of mind… towards us...

     Papa then leaned his head back... and uttering a long drawn-out sigh... closed his eyes... Xenia clutching his arm for dear life... as she snuggled up to him… as close as she could... 

     And not another sound was heard… as the rest of his party… the only passengers… still left on board… except for Abdullah... very much aware… of Papa's recent long ordeal… lasting well into the next day - and God knows what indignities… he might have been subjected to… during those long seventeen hours - respectfully refrained… from bombarding him with questions… letting him get his well-deserved rest… knowing that he had been the brave spokesman… for all of them... 

     All the while… that Papa was gone… we were confined to the Passenger Lounge… under the alert gaze of two officials… And whenever one of us needed to use the powder room… one of them would accompany him or her… standing guard outside the door...!  And as far as food was concerned… we were served sandwiches… and either tea… coffee or Coca-Cola… and naturally no alcohol… was permitted in port… 

     And any conversations… with the taciturn officials… was strictly discouraged… their manner sternly forbidding... as they stood to attention… one at each side… of the opening to the gangplank… staring straight ahead… in front of them... their faces expressionless... so that we were all uncomfortably made to feel… as if they were barring our escape… from the room... as if we were all political enemies… of The United States of America…!!!

     I tried to make sense… of my jumbled thoughts… because… as far as I was concerned… America signified the very talented cuteness of Shirley Temple... and the wonderful dancing partners of Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire… who were always so light and gay… 

     Then of course… there was lovely Deanna Durbin… with her incredibly rich… beautiful voice... and cutely pert Judy Garland… and pint-sized… freckle-faced… cheeky Mickey Rooney… with their very unique talents…

     Not to forget my very favorite… romantic… duet-singing stars… Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy... their voices blending so perfectly... 

     And last but not least… there was the genius of Walt Disney… who had made it his singular business… to make all the children… in the world happy… through his unforgettable animated characters... such as Mickey Mouse… and his dog Pluto... and his sweetheart… Minnie Mouse... and brash Donald Duck... Goofy... and all his other adorable creations... 

     And being reminded of them… made me long… once again…  for that wonderful… huge Walt Disney coloring book… that dear Mrs Murray… had given me… as an early Christmas… and going away present… that Papa had forbidden me… to take with me…    

     And here I was rudely being jolted… by the reality of confrontation… with cold… hostile… American government representatives… who were anything but friendly - not even a hint of a smile… cracked their stern features… as they stood rigid… like robots… without seeming to have an ounce of warm blood… flowing in their veins...! 

     I thought of making funny faces at them… to try to break them out of their immobile stance... hoping to get them to laugh... or even smile… or at least relax their stiffness... but they just continued… to stand at attention... not moving a muscle... staring straight ahead… right through my five foot eight body... as if it was invisible...! 

     It was no wonder… that their inflexible attitude… caused an atmosphere… of uncomfortable uneasiness… to pervade the whole Passenger Lounge… intimidating everyone… to conversing with each other… surreptitiously... and only in whispers... avoiding eye contact… with the immobile guards... giving the impression… that they were acting very guilty... indeed…!

     About three hours later… two officials came back on board… walked purposefully up… to where Papa was sitting… and coming to a halt… almost nose-to-nose… in front of him… as he wearily got to his feet... one of them curtly announced… in a cold officious voice…:

     "You and your party… have official permission… to travel by train… from Los Angeles to New York… in which only city… you will be allowed to reside… for a period not exceeding ninety days… upon departure from which… your passports… will be restored to you… forthwith..!"

     Listening to him… I was flabbergasted...  Why… he was talking to my father… as if he was nothing more than a common criminal... restricting us to living only in New York… and nowhere else… more than implying… that our passports… had been temporarily confiscated...! 

     And the bile rose in my throat... and I experienced a distinct dislike… for this pompous ass... and I wondered what would happen… if I gave him a scathing piece of my mind...

     But before I could vent my disdain on him… he thrust what looked like a bundle of official looking papers at Papa... and smartly turning heel... marched briskly off with his fellow officer… leaving no opportunity for me… to rail at him… nor for Papa… to ask him any questions...!

     Our reaction to this reprieve was anti-climactic - I suppose we should have been dancing up and down for joy - but the long… long wait… and the sleepless hours… had exhausted us to such an extent… that all we could do… was sit down abruptly... too dazed… to fully realize that we had… at this very moment… been mercifully delivered up… from a much worse ordeal... that of being bound to face a horrible fate… back in Japan… at the hands… of the Imperial Japanese..!

     I glowed… and crowed… secretly in my heart… hugging my strong faith in God… closely to myself… overjoyed that my Heavenly Father… Had Softened the hearts… of the stern-looking officials…  It was clear… that He Had Influenced them… to allow us to stay in America…

     In my extreme innocence… I thought that a sanctioned three month stay… in the United States of America… even if restricted… to only New York… was very generous… indeed... more than enough time for Papa… and his right-handed man… Mr. Behrens… to straighten out his business affairs… at his head office… in the uniquely distinctive looking skyscraper… the Chrysler Building… which I was dying to see…

     New York... which… like Shanghai… I was dying to explore… from one end to the other… with no inkling… whatsoever… that during the allowed three months… I would be experiencing… quite the most horrendous… frightening moments… of my life… in that great city… where… once again… I would… not only be almost kidnapped… but sexually attacked… by a female…  mobbed like a movie star… and even almost killed…!!!

CHAPTER  TWO

ON TERRA FIRMA… ONCE MORE…!

     As the Rau entourage of nine… slowly descended the gangway... tired and hungry... each one of us longing for a decent meal of hot food, for a change... after the grueling past seventeen hours of uncertainty... now looking forward to the comfort… of a nice soft bed to sleep in... clad in our pajamas and nighties… for a change... one solitary figure remained on deck… silhouetted dimly against the light behind him...  And even from that high distance… I could see how forlorn and lonely Abdullah… the Turkish exchange student… looked... as he desultorily waved us good-bye...

     Everybody was strangely silent... somewhat bewildered... their heads bowed... as they trudged downward… in single file... laden down with all their precious belongings... clutching their bags and valises… tightly to their chests... desperate for their paltry goods and chattels… to provide them with a sense of identity...

     And then three things registered in my consciousness… all at the same time: 

     At the instant that I looked up at Abdullah… to wave Goodbye to him... my foot happened to touch American soil… for the very first time in my life...  And as it did so… an extraordinary shudder… shot throughout my whole body... just as it occurred to me… how eerily unlit the dock was... and that I was about to step out… into total darkness...! 

     And as I wondered… whether it could be a bad omen... I suddenly "knew" instinctively… that I was experiencing the aftershock… felt by the American people… when Japan unexpectedly attacked Pearl Harbor... this strange… national state-of-dazed-astonishment phenomenon… that I was to encounter… everywhere I went... inhaling it in the atmosphere… like a palpable… throbbing pulsation... up to and until… the very day… we left America's stunned shores..!
    
     As I marvelled… amazed at the sensitivity… of my psychic awareness... all at once… I became aware… that we were being surrounded… in the pitch black darkness… by bright flashes of light... and stamping feet... and then bodies were jostling us about… left and right...  And then I distinctly heard a voice asking in rapid-fire Americanese (a kind of high-pitched… nasal Western twang):

     "...Say fellah... you all really just come off the boat from Japan..?!"

     And in the dimness… I suddenly saw a microphone being rudely thrust under Papa's chin - again he was the only one being singled out...  And in the cacophony of noise… with everybody shouting at once... pushing and shoving to get to Papa first... it dawned on me… that we were probably being surrounded by newspaper… and radio reporters..!.

     And before I could fathom… how they had learned about us… I noticed an abrupt change in Papa...  All of a sudden… his shoulders straightened… from the weary slouched position… of before... and in a very firm voice...  repelling the swarm of news hounds... he stated… that if he answered a single question of theirs… he might possibly find a knife… thrust between his shoulder blades...! … put there by a Japanese hand...

     As he protested… over and over again… amid their persistent… relentless and intrusive… shouted questioning... displaying no regard… whatsoever… for our collective exhaustion... that he was simply an ordinary businessman… en route to his native country… Switzerland...

     And when the clamoring reporters… finally realized… that they would get no sensational… first-hand information… about Japan… from this adamant man… who seemed mostly to disappointingly say…: "No comment" … to every single question… pertaining to Japan... they finally gave up… in defeat… disgusted with themselves… that they were no more better informed… than when they had first descended on us... and finally turned their backs… on our entourage… leaving us in blessed peace...

     As we walked away… from the gallant ship… that had sailed us… through so much dangerous territory… for almost two months... ultimately depositing us safely… on America's shores… I looked back… through the blacked-out darkness of the dock… and with tears blurring my eyes… waved a fond… whispered…:

     “Farewell… You Wonderful… Beautiful… Magnificent Ship… Queenly… Stalwart “KLIPFONTEIN..." - well deserving of capital letters - fervently thanking Her Majesty… for having brought all her passengers… to safety… imagining to myself… that I could still see… her graceful outline...

CHAPTER  THREE

STAYING AT THE MAGICAL… “THE MAYFAIR…”!
    
     As to what transpired…. after the unexpected onslaught… of the intrusive reporters… is hazy in my memory… but I do remember being ensconced… in a very comfortable room… in a hotel… called "The Mayfair" … in downtown Los Angeles…

     And on the very next day… after a good night’s sleep… on terra firma… once more… being greeted… with great warmth… by a little old lady… in the lobby… who clucked over me… like a mother hen... making me think… that the civilian Americans were… by and large… actually very outgoing… and friendly… and quick to accept other people… even if they happened to speak… with a foreign accent…

     I cannot remember the exact date… that we arrived… in the "City of the Angels" … but on Friday… January 23rd … Papa Theodore Rau… gave the following interview… to a reporter… from the "Los Angeles Times" … excerpted from the Saturday morning edition… dated January 24th … 1942…:-

FARLAN - PLEASE INSERT HERE ACTUAL NEWSPAPER CUTTING OF PAPA RAU’S INTERVIEW IN L.A.
       

     "EX-RESIDENT SAYS JAPAN WHIRLPOOL OF RATIONING”
   
        Empire Strong, Declares Swiss Businessman, and Should    
        Not Be Underestimated by Foes.
       
        Life in Japan today, was depicted by a Swiss importer and
        exporter yesterday, as a whirlpool of food and commodity
        rationing.

        "All foods - sugar, flour, bread, rice, everything - are
        rationed," said Theodore Rau, at the Mayfair.

        "There is no gasoline. Leather is extremely expensive.
        There is no pure wool or cotton.

        "Japan is blocked or isolated economically. It cannot
        export raw silk, so it now uses silk in mixtures with
        other textiles. It's very strong if properly conditioned.
        Parachutes prove this. They're made of silk."

        LEFT JAPAN IN NOVEMBER

        Rau, 49, left Japan with his wife and three children
        Nov. 9, less than a month before Pearl Harbor.
  
        He and three associates operated the Overseas Trading   
        Co., and the Oriental Purchasing Co., with offices       
        scattered from Switzerland to New York, Tokyo,  
        Yokohama, Osaka, Kobe. Nagoya, Shanghai and Mukden.

        Rau has been in the Orient 28 years.
  
        "We're finished in Japan, liquidated," he said bluntly.
        "We were with the last few Swiss to leave the country.
         We're going home to Zurich."

        ERROR IN RATIONING

        Rau said he believes the Japanese erred in beginning
        rationing "much too late." This was a year ago. Since
        then, however, the Japanese have undergone privation
        complacently.

        "From a Japanese standpoint, the standard of living is
        not bad. From an American or European standpoint, it is
        not so good. What for us is a necessity, is for them a
        luxury. We feel the pinch much more, but the Japanese,
        accustomed to cheaper living, profit from a military
        standpoint.

        "We had blackouts for three successive days before we
        left. We couldn't even go outside the house at night,
        and couldn't smoke in the streets."

        BUSES RUN ON CHARCOAL

        Asked if the Japanese have ample supplies of oil and
        Gasoline, for their fleet and planes, Rau replied:

        "They claim to have plenty of reserves but nobody can
        tell.

        "Buses run on charcoal burners, which develop a fuel
        gas. They have been using this substitute for three
        years. It is identical with that developed in Germany.
        A few private cars use the charcoal - but it chokes the
        Motors, and throws great strain on the engine."

        Japan most needs rubber, tin and oil, Rau said, in
        analyzing quick Japanese thrusts at the Netherlands East
        Indies.

        "With these three," Rau warned, "Japan can carry on the
        war for a long, long time."

        JAPAN DECLARED MOST POWERFUL

        Empire Should Not Be Underestimated by Foes, Says   
        Swiss, Just Returned.

       These and other raw materials, such as aluminum, copper,
        iron, celluloid and much cotton, are diverted now by
        governmental order in Japan, for military use only.

        There are no golf balls. The celluloid toys, which Japan
        exported by the millions, are no longer manufactured.

        "Who is going to win the war - America or Japan?" Rau
        was asked.

        He weighed his answer carefully.

        "War is like a game of chess," he said. "It's the last
        move that counts."

        JAPAN VERY STRONG

        "Japan has taken the initiative. I'm a businessman and
        not a strategist. I can't say whether hers will be the
        last move. But the Americans should realize, Japan is
        very strong, and should not be underestimated."

        He told how the economic wall around Japan, has   
        stopped exports to all points, except those which Japan 
        controls - Manchukuo, North China, Korea.  A flood of
        goods is pouring into Shanghai - tinned foodstuffs,
        industrial and pharmaceutical chemicals, and even
        building materials, such as cement blocks.

        HOPES FOR SWISS

        Rau hopes his own nation, Switzerland, can remain aloof
        of war, as it has since the days of Napoleon.

        The Swiss are isolated and self-supporting, but depend
        on other nations, for industrial raw materials, he said.
       
        They need iron ore, coal, tin, copper, aluminum and
        silk, so they can continue the manufacture of those goods
        for which Switzerland is famed - precision instruments,
        Diesel motors and turbines, chocolate, silks and watches.

        The 4,5OO,OOO Swiss have plenty of food, but lack of
        factory materials, has caused widespread privation."

     The reporter was so impressed with Papa, and his fascinating account of our journey… that he cordially invited all the young passengers… i.e. the teenagers… for a tour of the Los Angeles Times offices…!  

     They numbered about eight or nine… and after the grand tour, had a blown-up picture taken of them… with a short article… about their surviving a dangerous ocean crossing. 

     And when we saw the newspaper later on… we erupted into gales of laughter… exclaiming with amazement… at how the photographer… had managed to transform their healthy-looking faces… especially Prima's… who at 16… still had her baby fat… into gaunt-looking… half-starved survivors… of a concentration camp…! 

                          
CHAPTER  FOUR

HOORAY FOR HOLLYWOOD…!

     I… on the other hand… missed the opportunity… of getting my picture taken in the papers… with the others… because… when Papa told me… that I could choose… either to go with Prima and Remo… to the newspaper offices... or go on a tour of Hollywood with him… hinting… with a rare twinkle in his eye… that maybe this might turn out… to be my lucky day...
Why… he said further… I might even get "discovered" … as a new… shining star… in the firmament of Hollywood...!

     And I became very excited… wondering whether somehow… he had found out about my secret wish… to become a singing actress… just like my lovely idol… Deanna Durbin… of the laughing eyes… and with great exuberance… naturally chose the latter alternative...

     And lucky for me that I did… because… amazingly… Papa somehow managed to pull… all the right strings that day... a day that I was never to forget... and one that I would often recall… in the future… conjuring up in my mind that magical, crisp sunny day... whenever I desperately tried to escape… from the harsh reality… of my miserable life… under the endlessly gray skies… of war-torn Europe...

     Hating being forced to rub shoulders… in my pre-pubescent… and teenage years… with some of quite the most narrow-minded… and petty people… that I had ever associated with… in my life…: the German-Swiss... many of whom were blatantly proud… to proclaim their fanatic allegiance… to drunk with power Hitler… and his thuggish minions…!

     There were two things… that stood out vividly for me… on that memorable day… in Los Angeles…:
 
     Number one… was the fact… that I would have my Papa… all to myself... a very rare occasion… indeed… for the last time… we were alone… was when we went hiking through the beautiful mountains of Japan… together… when I was a little girl… and the second… was the prospect… of hopefully seeing… some famous movie stars... 

     And as for Papa… mentioning the possibility… of I myself becoming a movie star - well that… of course… should be the furthest… from my expectations… and could not possibly ever come true… in his mind… and probably was just an imaginary bone… that he was holding out to me... as an enticement… to go with him on the tour...

     Papa told me further… that we had the choice of taking a very early bus tour… leaving at five a.m. …  so that we could have the opportunity of seeing… or perhaps even meeting in person… some famous celebrities… on their way to work… at their respective studios... or… we could take a later tour… which only guaranteed… seeing the palatial and stately mansions… of famous movie stars... 

     I did not mind the least little bit… having to get up early in the morning… for the thrill of going off… on a grand tour of Hollywood… the movie Mecca of the world… on the arm of my handsome Papa... and the likelihood… of encountering a real live movie celebrity… in person... was like manna from Heaven to me...

     And so the following morning… bright and early… suddenly giving in to an impulse… to wear my hair differently… from the loathed pigtails… I fashioned my thick golden tresses… into one long braid… and coiled it like a crown… around my head… which instantly made me look attractively older… and put on my best blue dress… of the softest cashmere wool… reluctantly carrying my threadbare… embarrassing green winter overcoat… over my arm… hoping that I would not have to wear it…

     And when Papa saw my different hairstyle… instead of scolding me… insisting that I change it back… into the infernal pigtails… his face lit up with pleasure… and he commented… how lovely I looked… and that my new hairstyle… was far more suited… to the height I had reached…

     So the two of us… set out together jauntily… our arms linked... our footsteps light... in eager anticipation… of our very first great Hollywood adventure… together... 

     And I secretly was delighted… that Xenia would not be going with us… gloating over the fact… that she was intending to go on an extensive shopping spree of women's apparel… that day… which Papa wanted no part of…
  
     Papa and I duly took a taxi to the bus depot… and upon arriving there… were amazed to see so many people up and about… so early in the morning... each and every one of them with excited looks of anticipation… on their faces… as they pushed and nudged each other about... trying to scramble aboard the buses… anxious to get to the coveted window seats...   
  
      At the sight of this sea of grappling humanity… my heart sank... and I despaired… of ever getting a chance… to get on board… any one of the ten buses parked there... 

     And with a heavy heart… resigned myself… to missing out altogether… getting to Hollywood… after all...  But nevertheless… still hopeful that I would be spending this precious day… alone with my adored/feared father… in some other enjoyable fashion… 

     Then a most extraordinary thing happened... Papa was about to turn away… when he happened to look at me… and saw the look of disappointment… on my face...  And I saw him straightening up… with an air of resolution… and then… before my very eyes… he suddenly seemed to grow ten feet tall… and I heard him say… in a commanding… thunderous voice… in his slightly foreign accent..:

     "I demand that you let my daughter and me through..!"

     And then... as if he had waved a magic wand... everybody immediately stopped talking...  And turning around… to see where the imperious sounding voice was coming from… instantly refrained from their squabbling and shoving… upon seeing the impeccably well-dressed man… standing there… with noble head held proudly high... and the tall girl… standing quietly at his side… looking for all the world… like a princess... 

     And as if of one accord… they all stood aside... and like the parting of the Red Sea… beckoned for us… to walk through and on to the bus... even seeing to it… that we got the best window seats…!

     And it was really interesting how… for the entire period of the tour… the bus load of tourists… behaved with decorum and respect… towards one another - all the previous display of boisterousness… had mysteriously evaporated - and every now and again… there would be some man or woman enquiring… in a variety of American accents… strange to my ears… and sometimes hard to understand… as to whether we were enjoying ourselves… and whether there was anything they could do… to make us more comfortable…!

     Once we arrived in the area of Beverly Hills… as we journeyed on… the bus driver reduced his speed… to about five miles an hour… and began a running commentary… speaking through a microphone… excitedly urging us to look… now to our left... now to our right... announcing that if we did so… we would be seeing famous super star so-and-so's beautiful estate... 

     But whenever I peered out of my window… all I mostly saw were high walls… and dense trees or bushes… obscuring any opportunity… for a full view of a movie star's grandiose home...  And the more I saw… the more I became convinced… that they had deliberately built these imposing retreats of privacy around them… from prying eyes… such as mine... 

     And I began to feel more and more like an intrusive "Peeping Tom"... embarrassed and ashamed of myself...  That Hollywood Tour… changed for me… for all time… the idea that movie stars… were simply at everybody's beck and call… that is to say… public property... 

     And born in me that day… was a very healthy respect… for any individual's privacy… whether they happen to be famous celebrities… adulated and adored… by the common people… or the ordinary man… in the street...

CHAPTER  FIVE

MEETING SOME MOVIE STARS… AND ALMOST BECOMING AN OVERNIGHT… SINGING SENSATION… MOVIE STAR… A LA DEANNA DURBIN… MYSELF…!

     After a while… I noticed that our journey was taking us out of the residential area… into a stretch of countryside… and as I wondered where we were now headed… I heard the bus driver… let out a loud "Whoop"... braking suddenly with a screech of tires... causing his startled passengers' bodies… taken completely unawares… to whip forward… and then backwards in their seats... some of whom let out surprised yelps of pain... 

     "THERE'S HEDY LAMARR…!”

he yelled out… pointing to his right… at the same time… swiftly opening the bus doors… with a swish...  Whereupon there was an immediate craning of necks... and some of the passengers… rushed forward excitedly… to the front of the bus… eager to see the famous… exquisitely beautiful movie superstar… in person...  

     The adrenalin rushed through my own veins also… because Hedy Lamarr… was reputed to be the most beautiful woman in the world… and I could hardly contain my own excitement...  And I too… eagerly focussed all my attention… on the slim figure… outlined directly opposite me… outside my window...!
    
     But when I took a good look at her... a stab of disappointment… shot through me... because all I saw… was quite an ordinary looking woman… of indeterminate age...  sitting unbecomingly perched… on a bicycle...! 

     And as I studied the woman… I noticed that her face was devoid… of any make-up… and that she was wearing a scarf around her head… in such a manner… that all her hair was covered by it...  And the longer I stared at her… for the life of me… I could no more recognize her… as the famous Austrian beauty… Hedy Lamarr… let alone the most beautiful woman in the world…! 

     But then the bus driver called out… his voice a reverent tone of awe…:

     "Good morning… Miss Lamarr...  What brings you out so early in the morning…?"

     Whereupon a wonderful transformation took place… before my very eyes…  Her plain features of a moment before… broke into a wide smile… of pearly white teeth… and in that charming… lilting Viennese accent… that was hers alone… tilting her head gracefully… to one side… she replied…:

     "Good morning… Mr. bus driver...  I'm on my way to work at my Studio..."

     And it was only then… that I recognized her unmistakable… distinctive voice…  And for the next ten minutes or so… she very graciously signed autographs… for her ardent fans… as they clambered off the bus… en masse… clamoring around her...

     As far as I was concerned… all I could do… was stare and gawk… at the lovely lady... sitting at my window seat… as if glued to it... suddenly much too shy and self-conscious… to step forward… and ask this beautiful creature… for her autograph... 

     I was quite content to worship her… from afar… with stars in my eyes… gripping my handkerchief tightly… fearful that if I let go of it… my hand would instinctively go to my mouth… and I would start chewing on my nails - I was fiercely determined… that Papa would never see my disgusting habit… at least not on this wonderful day… “Please…” … I hoped and prayed… with all my heart...

     At one point… I took a peek at him… sitting right next to me… to see his reaction… to this beauty… of all beauties who… surrounded by her adoring fans… had laughingly shaken the scarf… off her head… making her gorgeous mass of shiny… raven black hair… come tumbling down… onto her shoulders... so that we could all admire… her silky black tresses… perfectly parted in the center… which was her unique trademark...  And I could see… by the glazed look in Papa's eyes… that he too… was utterly enchanted… and captivated by her...

     Hedy Lamarr was dressed like a boy… in very unattractive clothing…. consisting of a plain baggy sweater… and equally shapeless slacks… of light grey… clasped at the ankles… to protect them… from the spokes of the bicycle wheels...

     But even so… her soft… uniquely European charm… and femininity… shone through… and we could all see that she was a glamorous movie star… through and through… even while wearing unbecoming clothes… and without any make-up on...

     Soon it was time to bid Hedy Lamarr… our fond adieus… and be on our way again…

     And just as the bus was about to drive off… to my utter amazement… the great lady looked up… and her beautiful dark eyes… gazed directly into mine… and with a small… secretive smile… she gave me what I could only describe… as a conspiratorial… amused wink… as if the two of us… shared a very special secret bond of understanding… between us...! 

     And for the rest of the trip… I sat in a daze… unable to put her lovely face… out of my mind...  Feeling… with a warm glow all over… the more I thought about her… that Miracle of Miracles… I had encountered… a kindred spirit... in Hollywood… of all places… who happened to be a very famous movie star… to boot..!

     Nothing further untoward happened… until we reached the gates of the Warner Brothers Studios… about thirty minutes later...  We all disembarked from the bus… with me leaving my old… threadbare overcoat behind… on my seat… half hoping that I wouldn’t find it there… when we got back on the bus…

     We were duly met… and escorted by a Warner Brothers Studio Tour Guide… who thrilled us all… when he announced that we had arrived just in time… to see Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman… acting out their scenes… in the forthcoming movie production of "Saratoga Trunk"…!  (#125 of the Little Cilandak Video Library…) 

     Hustling us quickly… across the vast complex… which was studded with huge… barn-like buildings… we encountered scores of actors and actresses… turned out in all kinds of costumes… some dressed up as Indian warriors or chiefs… with elaborate headdresses...

     Then there were some handsome-looking men… in Wild West cowboy get-ups... and walking right beside them… by marked contrast… harem girls… their willowy figures… draped in wispy… gauzy strips of diaphanous see-through material... and Roman soldiers in heavy-looking armor… clanking beside them... all of them in a hurry… to get to their respective movie lots...

     And finally the Studio Tour Guide came to a stop… in front of a large door… with a red light above it… that was intermittently… flashing on and off... 

     He then explained to us… that when the light turned green… we would be going in… where we would be led to seats… so that we could watch Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman… going through their paces… warning us that no talking… would be allowed… and that we were to keep absolutely quiet... 

     We all nodded our heads acquiescently… and when the light turned green… he opened the heavy door… gesturing that we follow after him...  And when we were inside… I was surprised… at how pitch black it was… and that all I could see in the distance… were banks of enormous flood lights… shining down very brightly… onto a studio set… depicting… from what I could discern… was an old-fashioned parlor... 

     And becoming quite excited… at the prospect of actually seeing… two of my very favorite movie idols... I settled down in my seat… next to Papa… gripping my hankie tightly… between my fingers... 

     And looking up expectantly… was nevertheless shocked and thrilled to see… all of a sudden… standing face to face… a few feet away from me... as large as life… none other than tall… lanky Gary Cooper… and beautiful Ingrid Bergman… themselves…! 

     From where I was sitting… I could not distinguish the actual words… they were saying to each other… but the way in which they looked at each other… and the tense way in which they confronted each other… indicated to me… that they were in the middle of a heated argument... 

     Then all of a sudden… I heard somebody yell out…:

     "Okay… rehearsal time over… now for the real thing...  everybody take their places...!”

     And... after a little while… a loudly shouted…:

     “LIGHTS... CAMERA... ACTION…!" 

     And almost by magic… there was a sudden deathly hush… pervading the vast atmosphere… the air charged with electricity... and you could not even hear a pin drop... 

     All eyes seemed to be riveted… on the two solitary figures… that now dominated the set… the bright spotlight… illuminating every detail… of their features… and the parlor scene… in which they were standing... both of them dressed in period costumes… of the Old West… everything else surrounding them… blacked out...

     And then I actually heard the words… they were saying to each other… Gary Cooper being very forceful… and insistent about something… addressing a Miss Clio Dulaine… and Ingrid Bergman… as a French Creole beauty… with dark hair… for a change… angrily protesting... disdainfully calling the gentleman from Texas… Mr. Maroon…  It was interesting to hear the contrast… in their accents… Gary's so twangily American… and Ingrid's so charmingly European...

     And as I felt their overpowering magnetism… it suddenly flashed through me that… even though they appeared to be at loggerheads… with one another… they both distinctly gave the impression… that they longed for nothing more… than to be in each other's arms...  And I knew instinctively… that they were crazy about each other… in reality...!

     Ingrid was dressed… very becomingly… in an old-fashioned Crinoline costume… which boasted a charming bustle… and with a hat… perched perkily… on top of her head… and Gary… who seemed to tower over her… in that gangly… awkward frame of his… was dressed in a formal western outfit… complete with string tie… and a fancy ten-gallon hat… was dangling from his hand…

     The little wisp of handkerchief… which I had been clutching and squeezing… ever since the bus tour began… was now damp and twisted… and almost in shreds… 

     And sitting there… in the huge barn… suffused in the glorious fact… that I was in the very place… where dreams were made… and           came true… expecting it to go on and on forever and ever… I was rudely jolted back to the present… when I heard somebody shout out…:

     "CUT...  THAT'S A WRAP...!"  Then… “TEN MINUTE BREAK…!”

     Then somebody flooded the whole place with light… and eager to follow my favorite stars' movements… never taking my eyes off them… for a single instant… to my utter amazement… I saw Gary Cooper… plonk himself down sideways… onto a chair… with his long legs… dangling over the arm... and seconds later… promptly fall asleep… snoring his head off… in no time flat…! 

     Ingrid Bergman… meanwhile… had disappeared through a doorway… amid smiles and pats of congratulations… on how well she had done… in only one take…

     Then our Studio Tour Guide… motioned to us to get up… and follow him out of the building… and we obediently filed behind him… walking towards the exit door…

     All the tourists had quietly filed outside… and I… being the last…  was just about to follow… walking behind Papa… when I suddenly heard Ingrid Bergman’s distinctive voice call out…:

     “Please… wait just a minute… I know you…!” … followed by a quick patter of footsteps…

     And before I knew it… she was standing right in front of me… and giving me a tender smile… she started to speak rapidly to me… in Swedish… as if we had known each other… all our lives…!

     I was absolutely flabbergasted… at all the singular attention… she… this great movie star… was giving insignificant me… and could only gawk back at her… standing there… face to face… just as tall as she was…! … riveted… like an idiot… with no idea… what she was saying to me…

     Then… she seemed to be asking me a question… cocking her head… in that charming way of hers…

     And I finally came to my groggy senses… and tried to respond intelligently… letting her know… as politely as I could… in English… that I wasn’t from Sweden… but from Switzerland… becoming so nervous… at the enormity… of our unexpected close-up encounter… that all I couId do was stutter and stammer… clutching my bedraggled hankie… tightly in my hands…    

     Immediately full of understanding… extremely charming… Ingrid Bergman… began to speak to me easily… in German…! 

     But once again… embarrassed to my toes… I had to tell her… haltingly… and red-faced…  that although I was Swiss… I didn’t speak German…!

     Totally unfazed… she very graciously put me at ease… by explaining… in English this time… that I happened to resemble a cousin of hers… who looked very much like herself… and noticing my        looks… and that I wore my hair in braids… like a crown around my head… just like her cousin did… she had naturally thought… that I might be from Sweden… like her…!

     And putting me thoroughly at ease… she charmingly engaged me in conversation… expressing great interest in me… asking things about my life…

     And it wasn’t long… before I was telling her all about growing up in Japan… attending the ISY… when I was six… where I learned to speak English and French… besides Japanese… and about escaping from there… just before Pearl Harbor… and how the American government… had confiscated my family’s passports… allowing us three months in New York… where my father’s head office was situated… in the Chrysler Building… I ended proudly…      

     Then… just as we were becoming thoroughly at ease… with one another… alas… her break was over… and she had to go back to work… on her movie…

     And quickly saying that she was so glad that she had met such an interesting person… who had lived such an unusually fascinating life… feeling that we were kindred spirits… bidding me a fond adieu… until we meet again… she stepped forward… giving me a gentle… warm embrace… and then she was gone… just as Papa… poked his head around the exit door… wondering what had happened… to his daughter…

     Thus… an Inner Bond… was established between us… although we were never destined… to meet again… on earth… not until after her passing… when an Angel of God… took me to visit her… in SUBUD Heaven…  But that’s another story… fully described… in my second book… my Spiritual Odyssey… “FROM SEVEN HELLS… TO SEVENTH HEAVEN… SUBUD…”    

     Well… since the world desperately needs to hear about Spiritual stories… Bapak… who is… once again…  visiting his SUBUD daughter… Muftiah… in Spirit… is urging her… to write about that meaningful Spiritual encounter… with Ingrid Bergman… in SUBUD Heaven… here as well…

      The Angel of God… Led me into a beautiful… large and airy room… full of a Golden Light… and I saw a radiant… beautiful Ingrid Bergman… in the prime of her youth… sitting on a large… soft white couch… with colorful cushions… strewn all around her… and she was entertaining… a number of happy young women… who were sitting at her feet… looking up at her adoringly… 

     Then I happened to notice… that there were no men… in the room… sitting at her feet… also adoring her…    

     And I asked the Angel of God… why there were no men… in the room… sitting at Ingrid Bergman’s feet… looking up at her adoringly… like the women…

     And the Angel of God Told me… that the reason… why there were no men present… in the room… was because… when Ingrid… was living on earth… and working as an actress… she deliberately made all her leading men… fall in love with her… so that their performances… on screen… would seem more believable… their love scenes… more real… Then… after she no longer needed them… she discarded them… without a backward glance… breaking many a man’s heart…!

     So that what she had reaped for herself… was a karmic debt… towards all those men…

     But because she had sincerely followed… the SUBUD Way of Life… together with her husband… Roberto Rossellini… her sin… had been greatly Purified… so that she need not be reincarnated… to live on earth again… but she was still Not Yet Allowed… to have any men… around her… in SUBUD Heaven…!

     And when I commented… on her Glorious Radiance… showing how content… she seemed to be… in the presence of all those adoring ladies… the Angel of God Explained… that because of God’s Great Merciful… Loving Compassion… Ingrid was not aware… that there were no men… around her…!

     Just then… Ingrid noticed me… and her face instantly lighting up… with joyous recognition… from our brief encounter… at the movie studio… so long ago… she beckoned… that I should join her… patting the seat next to her… invitingly…

     And as I stepped forward… happy to be with her… the Angel of God Stopped me… Saying that I did not belong there…!

     When I awoke… I was full of awe… and wonder… realizing that the great super star… Ingrid Bergman… must have privately led… the SUBUD Way of Life…

     And then I thought of her daughter… the exquisitely beautiful… Isabella Rossellini…  Have you ever noticed… how radiant her face is…?  Perhaps she too… is following in her parent’s footsteps… and has become Inwardly “Opened…” and “Awakened…” … to Receive Contact… with God’s Great Holy Life Force… in the Latihan Kejiwaan of SUBUD… 

     Joining Papa and the other tourists outside… the Studio Tour Guide told us… that we would be free to roam about the premises… on our own… for the next half hour… 

     And Papa… suddenly galvanized into action… grabbed a still dazed me… by my arm… and purposefully strode off to a row of buildings… further up across the street… where there were patches.. of well-tended grass lawns and shrubbery… in sharp contrast… to the stark… drab-looking… huge barn-like studio buildings… with their maze of concrete passageways...

     We were now in the administrative section… of the movie complex… and without hesitation… Papa boldly walked through one of the doors there… startling the elderly lady receptionist… sitting at her desk… who barely managed to inquire… what she could do for us… when Papa… in an imperious tone of voice… announced…:

     "I will be brief...  My family and I are en route to Europe… and we cannot leave America… before Hollywood has had the opportunity… to hear my daughter's magnificent voice...  I demand to see the person in charge...!"

     And piercing the poor woman… with his brilliant… emerald green eyes… he stood back… and promptly sat down in a chair facing her… pushing a flabbergasted me… down on the seat… next to his…!
  
     I fully expected Papa's audacity… to be rewarded by getting us thrown out of the office… and off the premises… but to my amazement… the gray-haired woman… shot to her feet… stammering…: 

     "Y-y-y-ess sir... r-r-right away" … and bolted from the room… in haste!

     It seemed as if only seconds had passed… when the door to the office was flung open… and a very jovial-looking… baldish… middle-aged man… strode in… with his hand outstretched… and with a friendly smile of greeting… on his face...  Beckoning to us to follow him… he proceeded to walk out of the office building… leading us to a large studio lot… nearby… 

     On the way over there… he chatted amiably to us… and quickly found out… what he needed to know… about our present circumstances… 

     He himself was an Austrian… immigrated from Europe… so that it was not long… before he and Papa… were feeling very comfortable with one another… happily conversing away to each other… in fluent German…! 

     And by the time he had me seated comfortably… in a chair… in a glass-partitioned area… set to one side… of yet another huge barn… he was exuding… so much charm… and reassurance… that all my nervousness… had evaporated - I had even stopped clutching and squeezing… my by now totally damp… raggedy hankie...

     He then proceeded to tell me… what his intentions would be… which were to include… not only getting a history… of my musical experience… from me… but also that he had at his disposal… the means of actually being able… then and there… to cut a real record… that would faithfully reproduce my voice… for all time to come…! 

     This pearl of an announcement... the prospect of being able to hear… my own singing voice… on a gramophone record… for the very first time in my life... was beyond my wildest dreams... and I was thrilled to the core... hardly able to contain myself… wondering what it would sound like... 

     This nice… pleasant… friendly man… then asked me what I would like to sing… and immediately… the hauntingly beautiful love song… "The Sky Blue Waters" … which I had sung on stage… in the role of the Indian Princess… Tiger Lily… in our school production… of "Peter Pan" … flashed through my mind… as the perfect choice… remembering… with warm feelings… how my rendition of it… had brought the audience to its feet… with exuberant shouts of "Bravo...!" and "Encore...!"

     Of course… I had only been about seven years old… at the time… so probably would be able… now at the age of almost twelve… to sing this beautiful love song of yearning… with more feeling… and deeper emotion... 

     And I can proudly say… that I sang my very best… on that never-to-be-forgotten day… in Hollywood… ignoring the fact… that I had never ever before… sung into a microphone…

     Marvelling over the fact that I… a young girl… barely tolerated… by the American government… who had had the audacity… to take her passport… away from her… was… on the third day… of her arrival… in the United States of America… actually sitting here… in Hollywood… in the Mecca of the world's film industry… no less… having her very own voice recorded… in this world-famous Warner Brothers movie studio - and might even become a singing movie star… herself… starting on this very day...!

     And as I heard the needle… going round and round… cutting the disk… I could see… by the expression on my auditioner's face… that he too… was very pleased… in my interpretation… of the hauntingly beautiful ballad...  And Papa had tears in his eyes… showing how deeply moved he was…

     Still floating… in the dream-like state… that the lilting melody… had evoked in me… I was rudely jolted back to the present… by hearing this most pleasant man say… in a charmingly accented voice… in English…:

     "... But of course… you know… MGM at present… have the extraordinary singing talents… of the child stars… Judy Garland… and Deanna Durbin… and their enormous popularity… has flooded the public… 

     And I don't believe… that my studio is prepared to finance the grooming… of yet another gifted youngster… no matter how beautiful a voice she has… such as that of your exceptionally talented… beautiful daughter... not while there’s a war going on…  So my suggestion to you… is that you bring her back next year… when she turns eighteen..!"

     I could see by the look on Papa's face… that he was feeling just as disappointed… as I was… and clutching at a last straw… he corrected the man's false impression about my age… telling him… that I was not yet twelve years old... 

     And that astounding information… bowled the kindly man over... making his mouth drop open… in amazement... 

     And he took a really good look at me... examining all five foot eight of me… from head to toe... then exclaiming… at how incredibly mature… and poised I seemed… for an eleven year old… because I had sung the haunting love ballad… with so much feeling…

     And how easily… I could pass… for at least a seventeen year old… if not older… because of my exceptional height… if I wore more adult looking clothing... and he shook his head… muttering something… about wonders never ceasing...

     He then became very excited... telling us that an idea had just occurred to him… and told us to wait a minute... and dashed off… leaving Papa and me… looking at each other… holding our breaths... 

     My heart began to beat very fast… in anticipation… for I knew… without a doubt… that my singing voice… had greatly impressed… this Austrian studio representative…

     It seemed like an endless wait… but the man did eventually return...  And the moment I saw him… I could see by the expression… on his face… that my high hopes… had been too good to be true… for by the time he reached us… he was shaking his head with regret... 

     Sighing deeply… he told us how exasperatingly frustrating his job sometimes became… and how helpless he often felt… that he did not have the authority… to sign talent on the spot... 

     The biggest strike against me… apparently… was the precariousness… of our standing… with the American government… and the fact that I was not American born... 

     Furthermore… Hollywood was very aware… of the uncertainties of wartime… and had to keep their expenditures… on a strict budget policy... 

     They were prepared to go out on a limb… for some promising… talented American born person… but not that far out… where it involved clashing… with the bureaucracy… of the United States... 

     He hastily reassured us that… as far as talent was concerned… the higher-ups… trusted his judgment implicitly… so that there was absolutely no problem… as far as my singing voice was concerned... 

     And smiling warmly at me… he promised faithfully… that he would see to it personally… that the recording… made of my voice… that day… would remain in his personal possession… and not simply disappear… into the murky depths… of some archives department... 

     And as he bid us “Farewell… and "Gruess Gott"… with Papa’s New York business card… in his pocket… he urged Papa… to bring me back to him… when I was seventeen… for a screen test - maybe by that time this futile… senseless war… would be over... - and he handed Papa… his own business card… encouraging him to give him a call… when he returned to California...

     So it was with a heavy heart… that my brief… joyous interlude… came abruptly to an end… dashing all my high hopes… for possibly becoming an overnight singing sensation… on celluloid… just like my idol… Deanna Durbin… and Judy Garland… in the magical Mecca of Hollywood…

     Then my flagging spirits… were suddenly brightened… when I saw… of all people… none other than Joan Blondell and Dick Powell… poking their heads… around the corner… obviously wanting to talk to the man about something...  They were full of vim and vigor… with huge smiles on their faces… and seeing that the office was occupied… vanished… with a breezy…:

     "...We can talk about it later..." … flung over their shoulders...

     And as I sit here… writing… I wonder whether somewhere… in the bowels… of some dusty cellar room… where the priceless archives of movies… are stored away… in the vast complex… of Warner Brothers Studios… there still exists today… hidden under lock and key… that little recording of my voice… made way back in January… 1942… which incidentally… I never even got to hear… played back… because we had to rush… to get back onto our scheduled tour bus..!

CHAPTER  SIX

SOME FASCINATING NEW EXPERIENCES… AND REVELATIONS…!

     After we got off the tour bus… back in Los Angeles… waving Goodbye… to our fellow passengers… just as I realized… how ravenously hungry I was… Papa spotted something nearby… and his brilliant green eyes lighting up… he told me… that I deserved a reward… for having behaved like a proper lady… that day… making me thrill all over…   

     And taking a happy me… by the arm… he led me to where a swarthy-skinned man… was standing… under a huge… gaily striped umbrella… of white and red… set up on a wide sidewalk… next to the entrance… to a lovely park…

     He had a large food cart… in front of him… on which was a large rotating spit… in a glass case… on which there were long soseijis… slowly going around and around… getting evenly cooked… and there were some people… standing around… asking him for this… and a little extra of that…

     And he would very quickly…  open the glass case… retrieve one of the soseiji… with a pair of tongs… close the glass case… then picking up a long bun… from a large platter… with the same tongs… deftly put the soseiji… on the long bun…

     Then he would lift the lid off one of the containers… sunk down low… into his cart… reach inside… with a knife… and smear something… back and forth… on the soseiji… which now sat on a square piece of white paper… held in the palm… of his open left hand…

     Then he repeated the process… several times… each time dipping into another sunken container… and smearing a different colored something… on the soseiji…

     And finally… when he was done… with all his agile back and forth smearing… of the soseiji… he would hold it out to the waiting customer… with a smile… saying… “That’ll be a Dollar…!”

     And as I stood mesmerized… watching… I was reminded… of all the times… I had gone down to the village of Kutsu Kake… and bought delicacies… such as rice cakes… and tofu… from the urites…

     And when it was our turn… to my great surprise… Papa addressed him in Italian… heartily saying…  “Buon Giorno…!”

     And the man… delighted to be recognized… as hailing from Italy… beamed…   And for a while… they exchanged pleasantries… with one another… in fluent Italian… with lots of arm gestures… between them…

     And then Papa… reverting to English… very confidently gave his order of…:

     “Two beef hot dogs… with everything on them… for my lovely daughter… and myself…!”

     And before long… as I glowed all over… from his compliment… puzzled at hearing the soseijis called by the strange name of “hot dogs…” … Papa placed into my open hand… an identical square piece of paper… that was warm… to the touch…

     And on it was an oblong bun… inside of which… rested one of the long soseijis… sorry “hot dog” … along the top of which… was what looked like a thick… bright red paste… a brown paste… flecked with small bits of green things…  And the only thing I recognized… were the thinly sliced onions… nestled in the pastes…

     Looking at Papa… puzzled… although the aroma… coming up to my nose… was tantalizingly good… making my stomach growl… he took me by my arm… once again… and suggested… that we go into the park… and sit down on a bench… to enjoy our very first… American lunch… together…

     This Hollywood Day… turned out to be so magical for me… having my beloved Papa… all to myself… for a change…  And then to meet movie stars… so meaningfully… and have my own voice… recorded… there…! 

     And instead of the magical Day ending… here I was… sitting with Papa… on a park bench… feasting on quite the most delicious mixtures of taste… I had ever tasted… for the very first time… in my life…:  the traditional American Hot Dog… that was eaten at lunchtime… in cities… all over the country… to quickly satisfy… the appetites of busy people… on the run…

     Papa explained all the mysterious ingredients… of my bun to me…  And I heard the words “relish”… and “mustard” … and “catsup” … for the very first time… in my life…

     After our delicious lunch… which ended with me having to soak my hankie… into the drinking fountain… nearby… another first for me… because my fingers… and mouth were all sticky… and had to be wiped off… Papa suggested that we take a brisk walk… around the park… to digest our full… happy tummies…

     And I was in Seventh Heaven… striding through the park… arm in arm… with my handsome Papa… just like we used to do… through the mountains… back in Japan… and on board ship… with me now… only two inches… shorter than he was…

     And we drew many admiring glances… and smiles… as we passed other people… leisurely strolling… along the path… or sitting on the benches… happily sunning themselves… with their faces uplifted…

     When we reached the other end of the park… which also had an entrance… Papa delighted me further… by leading me to a snow white vehicle… on the side of which were printed… in fancy script… the large words… “Good Humor Man…” … and “Ice Cream…!” … just below…! 

     And I was delighted… to see a brash young man… standing behind a row of containers… in the hollowed out… side of the vehicle… dressed all in white… with an attractive… elongated cap… perched jauntily… on top of his head… exuding a lot of friendly… “good humor…” … just like the advertisement said…!

     And for the very first time… in her life… he gallantly introduced… the edible ice cream cone… to the “lovely lady” … and she happily licked away… at her two scoops… sitting on top of each other… one of Strawberry… and the other of French Vanilla… at the same time… nibbling at the tasty… sugar cone…

     When we got back to the Hotel Mayfair… and entered our hotel suite… feeling greatly refreshed… Prima and Remo… had just returned… and they were bursting with excitement... in the middle of telling Xenia… all about the wonderful time… they had spent at the Los Angeles Times newspaper offices…

     And all about having been given the grand tour… being shown the whole fascinating process of publishing a newspaper... and how they had even had their pictures taken… with their other shipboard friends...! 

     Papa and I happened to walk in… just as they were proudly showing Xenia… the newspaper blow-up... and as Papa and I looked over their shoulders… I must say that it took me quite a while to recognize… that the pathetically gaunt looking face… staring up at me with bleak eyes… was actually my big sister Prima's…! 

     Somehow the photographer… had very cleverly altered her well-fed… dimply face… to look as if she was on the verge of starvation…!!!  And so were all the other faces… all looking equally gaunt… as if they were survivor victims… of a concentration camp…!

     Their haunted… staring eyes… under a bold caption headline… that said something like these youths were the brave survivors… of the hostile oceans…!

     The brashness of the newspaper… struck Papa's and my funny bone… at the same time... and… unable to help ourselves… we both simultaneously burst out… into peals of laughter...
 
     Prima and Remo were puzzled… at first… at our reaction...  But then they too saw the humor… of the audacious deception… the newspaper staff photographer had perpetrated on Prima… and the other eight teenagers...

     And seeing the tears… rolling down Papa's and my cheeks… and hearing our uncontrolled… infectious hilarity... seeing us bent over… holding onto our stomachs... they joined in… by laughing their heads off… as well...

     Leaving poor humorless Xenia… sitting on the couch… grave-faced and bewildered... with a worried look on her face… querulously asking… over and over… in that irksome… heavily accented… whining voice of hers…:

     "Vat... vat... vat arr oll off yu laffink et...?  Vat iss sso fonny..?"… making it extremely difficult… for any one of us to explain anything to her… because we were all roaring so hard by now...

     And then I felt my bladder give way… so that I had to rush into the bathroom...  And through the closed door… I could hear them all making gigantic efforts… to control themselves… patiently trying to enlighten Xenia… talking to her slowly... in grave tones... 

     So that when I reemerged… a little while later… the whole atmosphere in the room… had changed from the wonderful effervescent lightness… of a few moments before... to a pall of glumness and heaviness... all the earlier spontaneous shared closeness… dissipated…

     Because of Xenia's unfortunate Russian nature… greatly fractured… by her hateful father… which could never be the happy medium… 

     She was either in an artificially manufactured… vibrantly high-spirited state… only when her cherished Theo was around… or gloomy and morose… exaggeratedly going… from one extreme… to the other...

     And if she was neither of those… she was as if limp… and     … lacking any personality… whatsoever… in everybody else’s company…
 
     The rest of the days… we spent in Los Angeles… are hazy for me to recall… although I do remember the shock I experienced one day… whilst absentmindedly glancing through a newspaper… to suddenly see Papa's face… staring straight out at me...  This was the second time in a week...! 

     And becoming excited… that he already merited another mention… in the all important Los Angeles Times... I felt a surge of pride for him... eager to read… what else he had to say… about life in Japan...  (I had already seen the article… accompanying a large handsome portrait of him… when he was first interviewed… by a Los Angeles Times reporter… shortly after our arrival... and had carefully cut it out… and kept it… as a cherished keepsake...) 

     But then... in reading the caption underneath it… reporting some event or other... the realization suddenly dawned on me… that I was not reading about my father… Theodore Rau… again… after all... and that the face I was looking at… was not his… either... but that of none other than... of all people... Franklin Delano Roosevelt… the President of the United States of America…!!! 

     As I stared at the photo… of the congenially smiling man... with his head slightly cocked... noticing the uncanny resemblance… to my pater... I remember the goose flesh… on my arms... and my hair… standing on end… on top of my head...

     Mixed emotions… flooded throughout my being... running the gamut… from wide-eyed awe... to swelling-of-the-chest pride... as I mulled over and over in my mind… the realization… that my wonderful Papa... and the foremost most important human being… in the United States of America... actually resembled each other… to the extent of looking almost… like identical twins...! 

     And for the rest of that day… I made a thorough nuisance of myself… pointing out the two newspaper blow-ups… to all and sundry... proudly showing everyone… how my father… Theodore Rau… was the spitting image… of none other than the great leader… of the country… and the American people... Franklin Delano Roosevelt... the President of the United States of America...!!!

CHAPTER  SEVEN

MY VERY FIRST… TRUE AMERICAN EDUCATION… FROM THE SWEET LITTLE OLD LADY… AT THE MAYFAIR…!    

     So far… I was experiencing more and more… that which made me glow… with great Approval… at how the Americans… on the whole… were governing themselves... 

     For instance… examining a dime piece that Papa… one day… had unexpectedly thrust into my hand… to buy myself a lollipop with... I found myself wondering… what a U.S. coin would look like… in comparison to the Japanese "Sen"...  marvelling at how small it was... almost disappearing… in the palm of my hand...

     And I gasped with amazement… to see that I was staring at an identical resemblance… of Papa's profile… later to be told that it was indeed the reproduction… of the President's portrait also..! 

     And I became utterly thrilled… and delighted… to read the inscriptions: "Liberty" … imprinted… in capital letters… opposite the nation’s leader’s left profile… and "In God We Trust" … in tiny capital letters… to the left of his throat... and to the right of his neck… the year 1942…

     Then turning the thin piece of shiny silver over… I saw the imprinted words… “United States of America…”… also in capital letters… surrounding the upper half of the coin…

     And in the middle was what appeared to be a flaming torch… flanked by two different flower stalks… and running across their bottom… the words… "E Pluribus Unum"… also imprinted in tiny capital letters… which I understood… from the Latin I had learned… at the ISY… to mean "And All For One"...        

     And at the very bottom… were the words… “One Dime…” also imprinted in capital letters…    

     "The American people are always reminded to remember God… their Creator... and they are living in a land of liberty... both wonderful facts… to be cherished… for their moral sustenance..." … I thought happily to myself... pleased to my innermost core... 

     "What better way than to inscribe the reminder of the peoples' good fortune… onto an article of money… that has to constantly pass through their hands... day by day... countless millions of people's fingers… invariably touching the words "God" … and "Liberty"...? 

     “What a clever way to remind anybody… who lived in the United States of America... whether native American... or foreigner... that without God... and the freedom… of living in liberty... the two most important essentials for mankind... he is as if doomed to stagnate... and then ultimately perish in despair... his soul floundering… in an aching void... empty and barren..."
    
     I remember spending a great deal of time… with the sweet little old lady… who had befriended me so warmly and openly… on my very first morning in the hotel... 

     Whiling away many hours with her… in her comfortable suite… surrounded by her precious possessions… some of them very old... and each one… with an interesting history behind it...

     I remember she educated me… in the fascinating early history… of the United States of America… about which I had never had any real instruction… in my previous history lessons… at the International School of Yokohama… and St. Maur's Convent for Girls… which… being initially English establishments of learning… had concentrated… primarily… on teaching its pupils… mainly about the colorful derring-do history… of England... and her varied associations… during times of war… and times of peace… with the countries across the channel… from her shores… on the continent of Europe... 

     My sweet little old lady friend… was a very good storyteller… and easily fired my imagination… with her glowing accounts… about the many early heroes… of her wonderful country... those intrepid… daring pioneer men… who blazed their way… through unknown territories…  and who were instrumental… in forging the independence… of the Colonies... 

     And of how a handful of free-minded thinkers… wanted to make this great land free… and independent… of the oppresive British Crown...  And all about how they set out to meet in secret... one of them being the great far-seeing man… Thomas Jefferson… who had devised the famous "Declaration of Independence"... 

     There were other larger-than-life men also… like Benjamin Franklin... the ingenuous inventor of bi-focal eyeglasses… and the pot-bellied stove... John Adams... John Hancock... to name a few… all of them fearlessly standing their ground… for
their God-given human rights...

     Although English by birth… refusing… as residents of the Colonies… to be oppressed any longer… by the exorbitantly high taxes… levied upon their heavily-laden… down-trodden shoulders...

     And my little old lady… colored her fascinating recital… with the hand-clapping evoking famous story… of their daring defiance… come to be known… as the Boston Tea Party... 

     And how the great patriot… Patrick Henry… in his fervor to live life… as a free man… had courageously uttered the famous words that… ever since… have been ringing strongly... ever echoing… in each American's breast...:  "Give me liberty... or give me death..." 

     And she told me all about the great man George Washington… and his bravery against the British… a man who really only ever wanted to be a gentleman farmer… happily preoccupying himself with sowing… planting… and helping to nurture and maintain… the fragility of growing… living things... most certainly not living his life… in dire contrast... being forced to implement the destruction… of living human beings… in battle…  
  
     The little old lady had painted such a vivid portrait of this man… affectionately becoming known… as the "father of our country" … his popularity getting him elected… by the people… who wanted to name him their king… addressing him as "Your Majesty..." or "Your Highness"... 

     And how… modestly… and in keeping with his ideology… that all men are created equal… he refused to be crowned king... but agreed that if a title were to be given… suggesting that it be that of "President of the United States of America"... thereby setting a sealed… for all time ongoing precedent... 

     Listening to my sweet little old lady's colorful description of this great man… and his heroic feats... who had dentures… made of wood… in his mouth… I felt great sympathy for this gentle soul… whom circumstances had forced to leave his genteel… country way of life… to become the Commander in Chief… of the first American military force... 

     And the story about George Washington… as a young boy… and the cherry tree… and his being unable to tell a lie… warmed the     les… of my heart...

     And I recognized in him… a kindred spirit... for I too had never been able to tell a lie… without immediately feeling the “heavy stone in my heart”… and full of remorse… begging forgiveness… of my Heavenly Father… and the person I had dared to just lie to...

      She gave me a stirring account… about the adventurous… debonair General George Custer… and his exceptional bravery… at Little Big Horn... the event becoming known in history… as Custer's Last Stand... when he and his little band of men… hopelessly outnumbered… by the Indian warriors of the Sioux tribe's Chief Sitting Bull... were surrounded... and mercilessly vanquished to the death… by them... 

     And the passionate way… in which she told the story… brought tears of sympathy… to my eyes... even though George Custer… seemed to have suffered… with a bad case of vainglory... 

      (In the Little Cilandak Video Library… #362… is the tape of the movie titled… “They Died With Their Boots On” … starring handsome Errol Flynn… the spitting image… of my brother Remo… as the dashing George Custer… and lovely Olivia de Havilland… childhood          of Prima and Remo… as his wife…!)

     Curiously… my little old lady friend… told me nothing of America's shameful chapter… in history… and about the eternal blight of shame… which will be forever… laid on the bloody doorstep… of the early American pioneers… who deceived the original natives… of the land…    

     Those of whom…  made Treaties… with the original American Red Indian natives… of the continent… who were split up… into hundreds of different tribes... each uniquely named… after those elements of the earth… and sky… that were worshipped by them... 

     Then… overpowered with greed… for their lush… fertile land… and vast territories… the White Man… unwilling to share… or to live in peaceful co-existence… with them… deceived them… by blatantly not honoring their agreements… and either massacring them… in the thousannds… or remorselessly uprooting… and usurping them…
    
     The greedy White Man… ultimately wiping out many of the Red Indian tribes… to extinction... forcing thousands of these conquered… proud people… to live in ill-equipped areas… called Indian Reservations... where countless numbers of them starved to      ... stripped of their lands... their means of livelihood... their dignity... everything... even unto that day… I was sitting… in her comfortable suite…!

     Neither did she tell me… about the shameful Black slavery… that went on… in the country… mainly in the Deep South... thousands of savages... males and females... taken by force… from their African homeland... transported to the Southern states... and sold into abject slavery... many of them treated harshly… and inhumanely...

     I ultimately got to read about that very sad… tragic era… in the many treasures of books… I found at the wonderfully enlightening building of knowledge… the Public Library of New York… such as "Uncle Tom's Cabin"...

     As far as the truth… about the strife of the Red Indian… versus the White Man… was concerned… I only heard about its terrible history… after immigrating to the United States of America… when I was already a grown-up woman - even though I had seen many American cowboys and Indians Westerns… when I lived in Zurich… where the Red Indian was always shown… to be a dishonest… cruel and heartless savage… a warmonger…! 

 
CHAPTER  EIGHT 

SOME EQUALLY SHAMEFUL HISTORY… OF THE NATIONALIST GOVERNMENT… OF SOUTH AFRICA…!

     And after spending about sixteen years… living on the continent of Africa… mostly in South Africa… from the years of l95l to l967… with five of those years spent… living in both Southern… and Northern Rhodesia… I can say from personal experience and knowledge… that such a shameful history… where man is governed… by his greed for acquisition… alas… keeps on repeating itself… as with the appalling present situation… of the Black Man there… the original native… of the African continent... 

     He… too… has been cruelly oppressed... his land taken away from him... forced to live in sorry excuses… for “townships”…  that are nothing more than hovels… thrown together… on unpaved dirt roads... often with no electricity… or plumbing…

     He is kept track of… by being forced to carry on his person… at all times… his Passbook… inside which… is detailed… not only his personal particulars… such as name… sex… date of birth… and marital status… but also his place of township residence… and place of work…

     And he is allowed to be… in only those two places… within a mile… and nowhere else… without special permission… which is then duly noted… inside his Passbook…

     He either works for the White Man… in the cities... for a pittance… or for one of the mines… and often living out a meager existence… as a slave… on the farms… throughout the vast Dutch South African region… ironically called… the Orange Free State..! … often beaten… and half-starved...

     And since the Black South African… who is not obligated… to get an education… like the White South African… and therefore… probably is unable to read… or write… plus the fact… that he… by far… outnumbers… the White South African… he has also… never been allowed to vote…! 
    
     Speaking of which… it is truly pathetically laughable… that in every single instance... during the time of election... the English South African United Party... who has always favored equality… for the Black South African... invariably seems to be winning...

     That is… until the votes… of the last territory… the Orange Free State… mentioned above… whose vast Dutch Boer population… being members of the mostly predominant Dutch South African Nationalist Party... the original cruel advocates of "apartheid"… are counted... and the United Party always… invariably… loses out to them... 

     The reason why… is quite simple…: 

     Since the more liberal and modern… sexually unrestricted English South African… generally practices birth control... and therefore produces smaller families... by contrast… however… the Dutch South African… whose Dutch Reformation religion… forbids him to engage in    ual activities… except to create offspring... on the whole… produces far larger families… than the English South African... 

     In fact… since the all powerful Dutch Reformed Church… sets the moral laws… throughout the land… all outdoor sports… are forbidden on Sundays...! 

     Furthermore… all store windows… must be covered… and all cinemas… and restaurants… closed… until six p.m…! 

     There is a standing joke… about the Dutch Afrikaaner… indulging himself… to his heart's content… with the "indoor sport" … of making babies… on any Sunday... wholly sanctioned… and heartily approved of… by his Church...! 

     So that when the votes are counted… in the Orange Free State… whose predominant population… are Dutch South African Boer farmers… and who naturally… are all members of the Nationalist Party... they far exceed… that of the rest of the country... 

     And to add insult to injury... because of the fact… that each child… no matter if even just an infant… is eligible to vote… by simply having his parent… put an "x" on the ballot form… on his behalf...! 

     And although the Black South African… with his many tribes… outnumbers the White South African… by far… he remains a victim… of the very cruel… inhumane "apartheid" system... the word literally meaning "separatism"...

     Hated racially... particularly by the Dutch South Africans... many of whom… harbor secret feelings of shame… at having the blood… of the Black Man… running through their veins...!

     Their ancestor "Voortrekkers" (pioneers)… who were not only Boers (farmers) … in search of land… to cultivate... but religious fanatic Dutch Reformers… as well… fervently believed… that they were the Chosen People of God...

     And during their long… arduous treks… by ox-wagon… from the coast… far inland… to what came to be called the "Orange Free State" … and the "Transvaal"... they gave in to the temptation… of the lure of their Black servant's ebony female flesh... many of the devout men… sinfully committing adultery… by surreptitiously fornicating with them...! 

     And when the Black women… inevitably conceived... ultimately giving birth… to colored babies... in their belief… that they had shamefully tainted… their own pure blood... the Dutch Voortrekkers… rather than blame themselves… for their own weakness... turned their wrath… on all the Blacks… derisively calling them "Kaffirs"... calling them Satan's evil abomination… upon the earth... thereafter hating them… with an all-consuming passion... 

     And for generation after generation... in trying to quell their deeply embedded… sense of guilt... they continued to instill in their children… the same blind hatred… for all “Kaffirs” ... the initial object… of their moral wrongdoing...!

     And they exaggerated stories… about the bloody massacre… by the Blacks… when the great Ding-Gan… the most powerful Black tribal leader… of all… a wise and intelligent ruler... was slyly tricked… by Piet Retief… the leader of the Voortrekkers… who mistakenly regarded him… and all Blacks… as having no more intelligence… than an animal... 

     And Ding-Gan… in turn… outraged by the Voortrekkers’ duplicity... in not honoring their agreement… just like the White Man… in his dealings… with the Red Indian… had retaliated… by fiercely revolting against them...    

     There is a huge… magnificent Voortrekker Monument… erected on the outskirts of Pretoria… the capital of South Africa... 

     And it depicts… on the outside… in sculptured outlines… etched in white stone… a large circumference of ox-wagons... and noble… and proud-looking statues of men… women and children… standing erect... all staring out serenely… into the future...

     The tall men… look rugged… and strong... wearing leather boots… and large-brimmed hats... and the women are modestly dressed in cotton… their dresses reaching down to their ankles… and demurely buttoned up… to their necks... wearing unattractive… hair-covering bonnets... 

     But both men and women… nevertheless… are armed with rifles... 

     And in the interior… of the enormous Monument… around the walls are… likewise… enormous sculptured etchings in stone... 

     Only these are tableaus… in strikingly vivid detail... of fierce-looking… half-naked young Blacks… savagely attacking… and slaughtering… the Voortrekkers... mostly women… and little children... with their sharply pointed… primitive spears... 

     And I… with my own eyes and ears… have seen… and heard fathers… forcing their little sons and daughters… to look upon scene after scene… of the grisly massacres... sternly reminding their frightened… wide-eyed offspring… to never ever forget… how the “bloody kaffirs”… brutally killed their ancestors... telling them that all abominations… walking upon the face of the earth… whose flesh was black… were to be fiercely hated… and despised… with every breath… in their little bodies...!

     How well I remember the time… while I was living in Johannesburg… soon after South Africa… became independent… of the British rule… when its Nationalist Government… suddenly came up… with the diabolical idea… of ridding itself… of all those individuals… who were not pure White South Africans… emulating       … in his diabolical plan…!

     However… unlike Hitler… they would not be targeting… the Jewish South African… because he was the backbone… of South African commerce and industry… vastly leading the field… in medicine… as well…

     In fact… the great metropolis… Johannesburg… had become nicknamed… “Jewburg” … because whenever there was a holiday… the city would invariably be empty…!

     But the people the Whites… did target… were the White South Africans… freely walking around… with tainted blood… in their veins...! 

     The evidence of this… might be apparent… if the individual… although ruddily… and coarsely white-skinned… had slightly kinky hair... or a splayed nose... or thickish lips... 

     But the South African Nationalist Government… went even further… to dig up incriminating evidence… against them… by the tedious effort… of painstakingly delving… into each suspicious looking individual's ancestral background... no matter how far back... until there… in black and white… was shown the unmistakable evidence… that he or she… was descended… from some obscure Black ancestor...! 

     Thus it was that many a White Dutch South African… obliviously living freely… for years and years… in a White neighborhood... socializing with other White friends... with all his children… attending a compulsory White school... would be shocked… and dismayed…

     When… out of a clear blue sky… he received an official looking document… in his mailbox… one day… informing him that… because he had Black blood… flowing through his veins... no matter how little... he was no longer allowed… to live his life… in the Whites Only community… as a White man... and had forty-eight hours… to vacate his home… and move his family… to the Black township… nearest to him... where he rightfully belonged...!!! 

     Those of the more financially affluent citizens… made immediate plans… to flee the country… to England… and to other parts of the world... 

     But those less fortunate... who did not have the money… to help them escape… their awful fate... were unable to cope… with the tremendous upheaval… that giving up their known way… of a free mode of living… among the Whites… entailed... and in despair and anguish... took their own… and their family’s lives... 

     It can only take a twisted… evil mind… to come up with such a barbaric idea... and every day that it was reported… in the Johannesburg Star newspaper… that yet another unfortunate "Nie-Blanke" (Non-White) … with a Dutch name… had taken… not only his own life… but the lives of his wife and children… as well... a great feeling of sorrow… for the evils of mankind… would sweep through me... 

     And I wondered to myself… why it was that those in power… never seemed to naturally have the milk of human kindness… flowing in their veins...

     Realizing much later on… when I had my Inner self… MIRACULOUSLY “OPENED…” AND “AWAKENED…” into SUBUD… that those people… who sought power… were usually ruled… and motivated… by the forces of their lower selves… that dominated within them… being the material… and animal forces… which are always selfish… and self-serving... in truth… caring not at all deeply… for the welfare… of their fellow man...!

     Perhaps the Great Depression of deprivation… suffered by the American People… in the 1930’s… was the just national atonement… for their great sin… against the Red Indian... perhaps not... 

     But I do know that South Africa… is yet to suffer national retribution… for the generations of cruel atrocities… committed against the Black South African…

     For such is the inevitable… inescapable Divine Law of Cause and Effect... that no single solitary soul... nor nation... can escape… nor is exempt from... no matter… in whatever incarnation…

     Because…:  "As ye sow... so shall ye reap..."  And…:  "As ye do unto others... so shall it be done unto you"... shall come to pass… eventually... sooner... or later...

     And today… throughout our God-Given universe… which has become one of chaos… and violence… on a mass scale… in these evil times… there is scarcely a single human soul… or nation… who has not committed grave sins… of one kind… or another… towards his fellow man…!

     I have written about South Africa’s inhumane… cruel policy… separately… titled “APARTHEIT” … about which I personally experienced… the diabolical reality of… being derogatively labeled… a “Kaffir lover…” … because I dared to express my heartfelt sympathy… for their plight… in court…!

CHAPTER  NINE

SOME MORE FASCINATING AMERICAN EDUCATION… FROM THE SWEET LITTLE OLD LADY… AT THE MAYFAIR…!

     Getting back to my little old lady friend… she did tell me… about the almost legend-like story… of the brave stand… at Fort Alamo… of the trailblazers… Davy Crockett... who… as the song goes... supposedly "killed a bear when he was only three...!"  Daniel Boone... Jim Bowie... who had invented a unique hunting knife...

     And all about the handful of stalwart souls… who fought to the      … side by side… against the Mexican general… Santa Ana… the "     thirsty heathen..." … as my friend called him… her blue eyes glaring fiercely bright... the rings on her fingers flashing… as she waved her arms about… gesturing for emphasis...

     She also told me… all about the lawlessness… of the Old West… to which people… in the thousands… had flocked… lured by the prospect… of finding precious gold... many of them becoming cattle ranchers… and sheep farmers… settling down… on vast tracts of uninhabited land... 

    And of how no male would walk about… without being armed with a gun or two… in his holsters... usually worn low down on his hip... all disputes being settled… with face-off "showdowns"... the man able to shoot faster… becoming the victor… whether morally right or wrong...  And it was always shoot to kill…!

     Painting a vivid tapestry… my little white-haired old lady… colored her exciting stories… about the famous brother outlaws… Jesse and Frank James... Billy the Kid... and Wild Bill Hickcock... and the Dalton Gang... making all these law-breakers… almost heroic… as she described their daring… brash escapades…

     Robbing and plundering... whether stagecoaches... trains... or banks... all over the Western territories... easily helping themselves… to whatever they wanted… because most little towns… only boasted a sheriff... or marshal… and one or two deputies… to defend them… for law and order…! 

     She also told me… with great enthusiasm… about the famous marshal… Wyatt Earp... and Doc Holliday... and what came to be the legend of "The Gunfight at the O.K. Corrall"... when they fought so bravely… against the bad men... classified as outlaws… (#1059 of the Little Cilandak Video Library…) 

     (I know that I taped quite a number of videos… about the tragedy at Fort Alamo… and the legendary figures… of the Lawless West… but I can’t recall the titles… of all the movies…

     Except for #1108… “How The West Was Won” … #939 “Wild, Wild West” … #1609 “The Wild Bunch” … #902 “Wyatt Earp” … #72 “Unforgiven” … all the Italian Spaghetti Westerns… starring Clint Eastwood… on tape #1210… such as “Fistful of Dollars…” “For A Few Dollars More… & “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly”… #489 “Dances With Wolves” … and last but not least… #1587 “Jesse James” …)    

     She also colorfully described riveting tales… about the exciting era… that came to be known… as the "Roaring Twenties"... in which the gay… light-hearted… carefree "Flapper Girl" … became notorious... wanting to do nothing… but party all night... dancing the "Charleston" and carousing...  And during which… by grim contrast… evil… twisted men… like the notorious Al Capone... and Lucky Luciano... were spawned... 

     They were descendants… of humble Italian… and Sicilian immigrants who… being forced to live… in dire poverty... imbued in their growing sons… an overpowering desire… to get themselves out of their lives of squalor... and by any quick means possible... so that already at an early age… they became hardened career criminals... 

     And the greed for power… and wealth… consumed their every waking moment...  And coming from a race of hot-blooded… proud people... they had no patience for the law... creating their own code of ethics… within their criminal "families"...

     And they soon earned the epithets of "gangsters..." and racketeers..." … and “hoodlums” … involving themselves with all kinds of illegal activities… that would rake them huge profits... such as gambling... and a word I heard for the very first time in my life… "prostitution"... (much too shy to ask what the word meant… wanting to appear grown-up… and intelligent… thinking to myself that it must describe some other bad thing...) 

     These lawless… power hungry men… had spread such a reign of       … throughout the poorer neighborhoods of New York... and Chicago... and other major cities… throughout the land...

     And how fast they became infamous…  because of their
penchant… for preying on merchants... forcing them… through threats of violence... to pay them "protection money"… to keep their small… family-owned stores… from being robbed... smashed up... or even set on fire... sending out their heartless thugs… called "capos" … to enforce their demands for control... dividing up the cities… into territories… to rule over...
     
     The little old lady… her eyes flashing… and her cheeks flushed… excitedly went on recounting to me… that things would be fine for a while... until one gang boss… or another… wanted more territories to control...

     And becoming more and more dissatisfied… and disgruntled... the greed for power… once more… would consume him... 

     This inevitably resulted… in the outbreak… of what came to be labeled… as "gang wars"... erupting violently... throughout one major city… after another…!

     In Chicago… nicknamed the "windy city"… (so named because of its frequent exposure… to onslaughts of fierce winds...) the rat-tat-tat of machine guns... usually fired from windows… of passing… speeding cars... leaving bullet-riddled… blood-spattered bodies… lying sprawled… in the streets... or in doorways… or in Italian restaurants… through smashed windows… soon became the daily norm… of human existence… for its citizens...! 

     As events ultimately turned out… the Divine Law of Cause and Effect… meted out its own justice… already in the current lives… of at least two of the most notorious gangsters... their dastardly crimes of murder… earning for themselves the epithet of…:

     "Public Enemy Number One!"...

leaving drastic effects… on them... 

     For instance… "Lucky" Luciano's luck ran out... his reign of       … finally coming to an end... when he was arrested for income tax evasion...  And rather than serve the fifty year jail sentence… he accepted deportation… to Italy...  And no more was heard of him... 

     As for the violent sociopath… Al Capone… he went to jail for a long… long time… and when released… having contracted… the dreaded venereal disease… syphilis... ultimately died in agony... the incurable sickness… gradually eating away… at his brain… transforming him… into a raving lunatic...!    

     My little old lady friend… also told me how… during the time of Prohibition… one brave man… a government agent… called Eliot Ness… became a prickling thorn… in the sides of the gangsters... successfully raiding their warehouses… where what came to be called their illegal "bootlegging" business - the name derived from the practice of smugglers hiding alcoholic liquor… in their bootlegs - was conducted... Eliot Ness… and his band of men… smashing as many of their smuggled crates of bottles of liquor… as they could... 

     Eliot Ness and his men… also made surprise raids… on gangster-owned dives… called "speakeasies"... establishments where one had to know the secret password… in order to be admitted... and where not only prohibited “bootleg gin” … could be bought… at an exorbitant price... all the patrons… drinking their alcoholic preference… out of innocent-looking tea cups... but where illegal gambling… was hotly going on in secret… in smoke-filled back rooms...!  

     Sitting with my little old lady friend… in her charming suite… sipping our tea… out of delicate cups of China… opened up whole new vistas of knowledge… for me… about this most fascinating country… the United States of America... made up out of a melting pot of people… from all over the world…!

     And I found myself wishing… with all my heart… that I… like her… had been born in this wonderful… adventurous free land… where any… and everybody… throughout the vast state territories… from East to West… was given the inalienable human right… to pursue his… or her own happiness… in whatever manner they chose... ways… of course… that were permitted… within the framework of the country's laws… which had been fashioned… by the people... of the people... and for the people... 

     And I also hoped and prayed… with all my heart… that Papa would bring me back here… to Hollywood… when I turned seventeen… just like the nice Austrian studio representative… had suggested...

CHAPTER  TEN

MY VERY FIRST EXPERIENCE… OF A “SPIRITUAL VISITATION”…!
    
     The morning came… about a week later… when I knocked on my little old ladyfriend's door… as usual… after breakfast… in happy anticipation… of yet another few hours… of being enchanted… by wonderful tales… of the chivalry of early American heros… many of them unsung... no doubt... only to find the suite empty… and momentarily occupied… by the cleaning staff… who shocked me… by informing me… that my dear sweet little old lady friend… had passed away… during the night..! 
  
     "Oh dear God…" … I thought to myself … "there must be some mistake... this terrible news can't be true...!" …  But it indisputably was... 

     Worst of all… was the fact that I did not even know… where they had taken her… so that I could not even go to her funeral… to say goodbye to her properly… and to thank her… for the many enriching… enlightening precious hours… spent together… in the cozy intimacy… of her charming suite...

     I immediately rushed downstairs… to ask the hotel manager… what had happened to my sweet friend... and found out that some distant relatives of hers… upon being contacted… had instructed him… to immediately ship her body… back to her hometown… in the state of Missouri… so that she could be buried there… in the family plot...

     This sad event… was my very first experience… of losing someone… very near and dear to me… to the irrevocable status of      ... and so shockingly abruptly... 

     And I could do nothing… but speak to her in my heart... and pray to my Heavenly Father… that He Grant her Everlasting Peace… and Joy… in Heaven... for I was very certain… that she richly deserved… those Heavenly Rewards... 

     But after my prayer that night… as I was about to fall asleep… a tiny little thought… started to nag… at my consciousness… when I recalled… how her sky blue eyes would flash… and her cheeks flush… with excitement… as she told me her exciting tales… and I could not help but wonder… whether I had somehow contributed... to the failing of her old heart… with all my eager questioning… eaten up with curiosity… that I had been... 

     And feeling heavy of heart… I whispered into the darkness…: 

     "Oh sweet little old lady friend… May… if it was my fault… that you passed away… before you truly wanted to… then please forgive me...  If not… then please be as Happy… and as Joyful… as you can be… in the Beautiful Next World... with Almighty God's Richest Blessings… Flowing Throughout Your Lovely Being… For Ever And Ever... Amen…" 

     Then no sooner had the words of my fervent wishes… left my lips… when I felt a rustling close by... and then the familiar scent of gardenia… which was the perfume she always wore… gently filling my nostrils...! 

     And I felt a warm glow… envelop me… from head to foot...  And then I saw her… looking so radiantly young… and beautiful… and there was a shimmering golden light… surrounding her…

     And then I heard her voice… sounding so gentle… and so loving…  And she softly reassured me… that all was well with her… and that she did not blame me… one little bit… for her loosing of the coils of earth... 

     And then she amazed me with the following revelation…:

     That she had been ready to meet her Creator… for a long… long time… but that she had had to linger on… waiting for my coming… so that she could share her spirit with me…!

     And how an Angel of God… Had Appeared to her… in a dream… shortly before my arrival… Who Told her that she would soon be meeting… a very tall young girl… and that she was to prepare her… not only for her short stay… in America... for she was to experience much… upon these shores... even to the depths… of her very soul… but beyond… in other foreign countries… as well…! 

     And she told me to face… whatever I had to… with dignity and fortitude... never to stray… from the straight and narrow path… that would ultimately lead me… back to God… in my real home in Heaven...

     And that I was always to remember… that I was one of God's more favored daughters... of whom He Expected great things…!

     Lying there… listening to her loving words of reassurance… I felt comforted… and the heaviness… lifted from my breast... 

     Then I "felt" her leave me… with a faint… "I love you… my dear Grace"... and then she was gone... 

     If I had had any doubts… as to who had just Visited me… in spirit… they would have been dispelled… for hearing my name called… as "Grace" … was indisputable proof… that it was dear… sweet May… who had just been in my room… and nobody else... 

     The name "Graziella" … having been far too difficult… for her to pronounce… it was she… and she alone… who had always addressed me… as "my dear Grace"… 

     The warm glow… of her Spiritual “Visitation” … stayed with me... and I fell asleep… with a contented smile on my lips… happy that my dear… sweet little old lady friend… May… had come to me in Spirit… to reassure me… and bid me such a personal… intimate farewell...

     Ours had been a secret friendship… known only to the two of us… so that I could not even truly share my grief of sudden loss… with my sister Prima… in the confines… of the hotel room… that we shared together… and frankly… I do not know whether she would really have understood… how close in spirit… the sweet little old lady… and I had become… in such a short time... 

     Incidentally… when she told me that her name was "May"… this juicy tidbit of information… had conjured up… all kinds of questions inside me... such as whether she had perhaps owned the hotel… for she told me… that she had lived there for many… many years... finding it extremely hard to believe… that it was simply a coincidence… that she would have the same name… as the Hotel Mayfair…!  But I was far too shy… to ask her... about my speculation…

     But not too shy… to ask the hotel management about it...  for I had already heard the whispers about her… and her longlasting… intimate connection… with the dashing… swashbuckling movie idol… of the twenties… Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. … and maybe even romantically involved with him…!  Hinting at the mystery… of the hotel’s name… “Mayfair”… which was a combination of her first name… “May” … and the first part… of his last name “Fair…”!

     But they had been very evasive… dismissing me with the admonishment… that I was far too inquisitive… for my age… which… because of my height of five foot eight… not to mention my sudden poise… and grown-up bearing… no one quite believed… that I was going to be only twelve years old… in three months time...!

     Despite being still forced… by Papa… to braid my waist-long golden tresses… into two thick… unbecoming childish looking pigtails… during the day… and in public… except for that one magical day… in Hollywood…

     And only being allowed to admire… my crowning glory… at night… in the privacy… of my bedroom… when I would let it loose… and freely flowing… the way I really loved… as I faithfully brushed it one hundred times…
    
     I remember how Papa had been obliged to produce my birth certificate… in order to prove me eligible… for a children's rate… when we first checked into the hotel… and some of the staff members… still continued to look at me sideways… with suspicion and distrust… certain that I must be much older than eleven...

     The following circumstances… left me little time to grieve for May… for at the dinner table the next night… Papa announced that we would be leaving for New York by train… the following morning… so that we had all better turn in early… for a good night's rest...

     "New York...!" … I whispered breathlessly to myself… my heart beating excitedly... lying in bed… on my last night in Los Angeles… where we had been staying… for about ten days... 

     I had only seen a picture postcard… of the mind-boggling skyscraper city… that Papa had sent back to Japan… from one of his business trips… with an arrow pointing to the second highest… the Chrysler Building… with its unique… distinctive… tapering spire - the tallest being the Empire State Building - showing where his offices were located… way up near the top floor... 

     And I remember feeling overwhelmed… by his description of New York… calling it what I thought was a very appropriate word…: the "City of the Skyscrapers" - for the tops of the buildings did… indeed… seem awesomely… to scrape the sky... each intriguing structure… standing so tall... so utterly imposing… and majestic... 

     And I was a little afraid… to imagine myself standing dwarfed… in their midst - if anything could make me feel smaller... it would most certainly be those incredibly high edifices… each building architectured… in its own unique style of form… and grace...

     And now the day had finally come… when I was actually about to set foot… in the magical place… that for years… had held a secret mixture… of dread and awe for me… making me feel afraid… that the immense grandeur of the city… would intimidate… and engulf me... 

     But there just was no avenue of escape for me now… from the inevitable fact that… since I was still a minor… and a total dependent... I simply had to go… wherever Papa Rau led me...

     If I had known… in advance… about all the soul-searing events… that were to rock… my very foundations… during our short stay… in the fascinating "City of the Skyscrapers"... living on the island borough… known as Manhattan... as my dear sweet little old lady friend May… had foretold… I would… in all probability… have run away... as far away… and as fast… as I possibly could… on my extra long… Grazi-Longlegs… in order to avoid experiencing them...!

 

CHAPTER  ELEVEN

TRAVELING BY TRAIN… FROM THE FASCINATING WESTERN COAST… OF “THE CITY OF ANGELS…” … TO THE MYSTERIOUS… UNKNOWN EASTERN COAST… OF “THE CITY OF SKYSCRAPERS…” … I MEET MOST GENIAL BILL… MY VERY FIRST MEMBER OF THE AFRICAN-AMERICAN RACE…!             

     The three day train journey… was very pleasant… with spectacular views… of one of the foremost attractions in the United States of America… the Grand Canyon… beautifully reflected in myriads of colors… in the rays of the afternoon sun... in the awesomely fascinating… untamed grandeur… of the state of Arizona... 

     And as we traveled along the Grand Canyon's deep… deep… breathtaking valleys… 7,000 feet below us... oohing and aahing… over the splendor... suddenly there were a number of whooping and hollering cowboys… galloping after the train… astraddle their swift horses... waving their hats and grinning...! 

     And seeing the shiny pistols… sticking out of their holsters… reminded me thrillingly of the Old West tales…. my dear sweet little old lady friend… May… had told me about...

     I recalled fondly how… at one point… she had leaned over and patted my hand… suggesting that I read the books of adventure stories… written by the famous American Western frontier author… Zane Grey... 

     And seeing my eager wide-eyed response… s