My Years with Ludwig von Mises.pdf - The Ludwig von Mises Institute

needs a pencil and a sheet of paper-that's all. H
Looking back, I
think Lu forgot something more important: a writer also needs
peace of mind.
Just as between 1938 and 1940 every political refugee at one
time or another came through Geneva or stayed there for a while,
now Lisbon had become a haven for people without a home, without
a country. All sorts of nationalities were gathered here, and
every day we met more people and heard more sad stories. We
frequently met Count Coudenhoven, the fighter for Pan-Europe,
who had a Japanese mother and was rather exotic and good looking.
He was married to a famous Viennese actress, Ida Roland,
who was much older than he and had a dau~hter, already in her
thirties, whom the countess always spoke of as "the child. H
It
sounded more tragic than funny to Lu and me.
On July 24 lance again returned to the Export Line and got the
message that Mr. Heart was waiting for a cancellation, but so far
nothing had turned up. I was asked to come back in the afternoon;
I did, but it was in vain, for no space had opened up.
The next morning I went to the hairdresser, left my number with
Mr. Heart's secretary, and was just being put under the dryer with
all the pinclips in my hair when I was called to the phone: "Export
Line. Come here at once. We have a cancellation, but you must be
here with all your documents before noon."
The pinclips thrown out, my hair all wet, I took a taxi to the
hotel. Thank God, Lu was there, waiting for me. I made him give
me our papers and raced to the office. I was in time and was told we
had a cabin on the Exochorda sailing that afternoon at 5 P.M. We
had to embark immediately. Back at the hotel, the tickets in my
hand, I saw Lu smile for the first time in weeks. It was this 'smile I
loved so much that I would have done anything to bring it about.
Our luggage had never been unpacked, so we were ready to
leave in a very short time. The Exochorda, one of the three or four
ships of the Export Line that were regularly crossing the Atlantic,
was neither large nor a luxury vessel. But it was. comfortable, and
we had a very good cabin. Even before the ship left the harbor, Lu
got terribly sick, so sick that I had to call the doctor. At that time
we did not know that Lu had gall bladder trouble. Later on I
realized this must have been the first of the many serious attacks he
suffered in later years. This one", of course, could have been the
consequence of all the excitement, the discomfort, the irregular
food, and the inner suffering he had gone through for weeks.
He recovered after two days, but he never felt happy on the ship.
In fact, he never felt happy on any ship; ships gave him claustrophobia.
I, on the contrary, enjoyed every day. The Atlantic crossing
took nine days, and the weather was marvelous. One of Lu's
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