Meeting With Hemingway

January, 1963

We were sitting at an airportin Copenhagen drinking coffee.It was comfortable there, refined,and elegant to the last degree.Then suddenly he appeared -- that old manin a plain green parka with a hood,his face deep tanned by the salty wind --loomed up rather than appeared.Furrowing through a crowd of tourists,he walked as if he'd just been sailing a boat,and like the sea-foam, his beard,grown whiter, fringed his face.He walked with grim, victoriousdetermination, generating a big wavethat swept th...