Many Voices; The Autobiography of a Medium by Eileen Garrett

Author:Eileen Garrett [Garrett, Eileen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's
Published: 1968-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

22

I have not said very much about the creation of my publishing venture; yet this is not exactly true, for in Adventures in the Supernormal I did write of the "emotional stirrings" that prompted me, once in New York, to think in terms of having a magazine of my own.

I finally had to leave the south of France, where I had been working quietly for the Resistance. As I have said, the time came when the gendarmerie whispered to me that my usefulness was over, since anyone who had British sympathies was now suspect. This happened after the Armistice Commission, composed of Germans and Italians, patrolled the area. I knew without any doubt whatever that France would be completely invaded; it was only a matter of time.

When I left Juan-les-Pins I traveled by train to Perpignan, accompanied by Jean Andoire and a friend who wished me well and hoped that I might make my way without too much difficulty through Spain. Those who have made this horrible journey will hardly ever forget it. Like others leaving France, I suffered inconvenience and indignity. No part of my body was free from inspection, which took place at seven in the morning in a cold and fearfully depressing room. I can still see the frozen face of the impersonal female who conducted the examination.

I had given away most of my personal belongings to a Swedish girl who had been my secretary for some time. I did this purposely, because valuable items were removed from one's baggage, and I felt it would be better to have someone young and charming use them. Even so, I had a couple of fur coats with me, for I did not know what the journey might hold in

store for me. But in desperation, in Madrid, I handed the keys of my large trunk, which contained my warm clothing, to an official who had made himself perfectly odious. "Here's the trunk," I said. "Keep the lot!" Imagine my surprise when the trunk, with furs intact, arrived six months later in New York! When I left Juan-les-Pins my intention was to go to England, where I could be of some use during the conflict. At Lisbon I went to the English consul. He examined my passport and said to me wryly: "I see you have been in America many times. Why do you not go there and lecture for relief for both Britain and France?"

Since ships leaving for England were virtually nonexistent, I picked up the consul's suggestion. Someone told me that the Cibony, an old boat that trafficked between Cuba and the South American countries, had arrived to help take some of the refugees away. I went down to the docks to look at her, and with the spirit of adventure and a greater desire to get away from the harassed scene, I managed to get aboard. Fortunately I had traveler's checks. I was shown below to share an apartment with two hundred other women, who were weeping and sobbing.

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