. . . When I left the hospital some weeks later I was in bad shape. Having no job, I was unoccupied and very much alone. The unhappy "spells" I used to have began again to attack me. I resurrected my revolver and went up to the hills and shot at targets that hung on trees. As I held it in my hand I felt again the old sense that it was a way of escape.
Then one day Princess Norina Matchabelli rang me on the telephone. She said there was someone in Hollywood she wanted me to meet. I did not want to meet anyone and I told her so. She said I would not regret meeting this person. "Who is it?" I asked. She would not tell me.
"I want it to be a surprise." she said.
Finally, she prevailed upon me to go into Hollywood to an address she gave me. Norina was waiting at the door and there seemed to be no one else on the ground floor. She told me to go upstairs to a room on the left. Responding to the sense of excitement and mystery I heard in her voice, I rushed up the stairs.
In the room she had directed me to, an extraordinary man was sitting in the Buddha position, with his legs drawn under him. He was dressed in white in an Indian costume. His hair was long and black and he wore a thick black moustache. His dark eyes gave the impression of extreme brightness. I noticed at once his amazing hands which gave the feeling of great strength. All this was impressed upon me in one second but what I felt overwhelmingly was the warmth that radiated from him and without a moment's hesitation I moved forward into their embrace.
"Who are you?" I said. For answer he made a gesture towards his lips. I understood that he did not speak. Then, confirming my thought, he spelled out on an alphabetic board, "I do not speak. I have taken a vow of silence and have been silent for years." Again I repeated, "Who are you?" He answered, "I am You."
I understood his meaning so I did not persist in the question. Suddenly, he spelled out on the board, "Go fetch me your revolver." I was amazed, for indeed my revolver was in my car and loaded. How did he know this? I had told absolutely no one of its existence. I went down to my car and returned with the revolver and handed it to Him. He opened the barrel and one by one took out the cartridges. He handed them to me with the revolver. He spelled out on the board, "Suicide is not the solution. It only entails rebirth with the same problems all over again. The only solution is God Realization — to see God in everything. Then, everything is easy. Promise me you will put this revolver away and never again think of suicide." I promised this with the utmost sincerity. Suicide suddenly seemed absurd to me, a tragic misunderstanding of life.
I learned that this strange man was Sri Meher Baba, who had recently come from India. He had taken a vow of silence a number of years previously which he had not broken. His followers called him a "Perfect Master" and look upon him as such. Regardless of what he is or his so-called spiritual position, which meant little to me then and less now, I found him at this time very helpful. He only remained in Hollywood a short while after my meeting with him but during this period I saw him several times. He came into my life just at a right moment, greatly lifted my spirits and I have always been grateful to him.
When he left Hollywood he flew to London. I called him there and had an amusing experience. Norina was with him. When I called she put him on the telephone and when I said, "Hello Baba," he responded by just making strange cooing sounds and blowing me kisses. The London operator, in a most British voice, came in on the line and said, "Speak up sir — speak up! Your party can't hear you." Whereupon I said, "It's all right. The gentleman can't speak but I understand his cooing." I heard her gasp and she faded from the line.