The Man in the Room Across the Hall

I was a teenager, living on the top floor of my parents' house in New York, when I was told that there was going to be a visitor, the friend of friends of my family, living in the guest room across the hall. There appeared, straight off the plane, a vibrant, fascinating, slightly frightening man. He spoke no English, my German was rudimentary, but I soon recognized that this was like no one I had ever known. He was a scientist, I had met only people concerned with the arts. He had an old-world courtliness that extended even to a female teenager, and he exuded a joie de vivre and a sense of fun that captivated me instantly. In just a few days I would realize that I had met a great teacher, a person who would teach me more profoundly than anyone I would ever meet. Of course, I didn't know then that this was the start of a friendship that would last without interruption for 60-odd years and would cover every aspect of my life; intellectual, emotional, ethical, artistic.