Jim Glickenhaus &...

The definition of noblesse oblige, according to the Dictionnaire de l'Académie française, is "Whoever claims to be noble must conduct himself nobly" or "One must act in a fashion that conforms to one's position, and with the reputation that one has earned." I take it to mean that one is a gentleman or a lady and I've met a few.

Rob Walker and Wilfred J. D. Clarke were British gentlemen of the first order. Thierry Millet of PEP'S in le Passage de l'Ancre in the third arrondissement of Paris is one. I wrote of him under my nom de plume in Ray D Shosay's Journal. Dr. Russel Welch, a homeless man and former professor of physics, is another. He occasionally attends our Elysée Wednesday gatherings. General Richard Wilmot is yet another. He met with one of the most terrible men on the planet and came away from the event with an increased understanding of humanity.

Monday night, I had the pleasure of spending the evening with both a lady and a gentleman--Meg Cameron and Jim Glickenhaus--as well as their daughter Veronica Cameron Glickenhaus who has all the qualities. During my spur-of-the-moment trip to New York City of short duration they made themselves available to meet me and extended their extraordinary hospitality. They went out of their way to make me feel welcome. They are, all three, engaging conversationalists and entertaining dinner companions. For me, the evening was memorable.

Later, Jim opened the doors to his shop where the dreams of my teen years and beyond were all to be found in reality. Historic Le Mans racing cars bearing the names Ferrari and Ford were there for inspection with Jim providing anecdotes and trivia as fascinating as the cars themselves. From another era were a Duesenberg and a Stutz in magnificent form. From the modern era was the Ferrari P4/5--a one-of-a-kind piece of industrial art without rival commissioned by Jim and executed by Pininfarina to his requirements. Speaking as one who has seen a few things, I can say it was an overwhelming experience.

As exciting as it was to see and hear about these fabulous cars--artifacts of history and my own personal longings--what I came away with was an overriding impression of having spent time with three exceptional people. During the course of the evening, Meg observed about me that, "You are a collector of interesting people."

"Yes," I told her, "I am."

And she--along with her husband and daughter--had become one of them.