The Ludmila Confessions

Aboard the ship, farewell to Hawaii. In the background one of the best photographers in Hollywood “Martin”

As I am writing this story of my life, I have had to come face to face with myself. Of course, it is fifty years and a lifetime later. It took half a century to become who I finally was meant to be. How sad, you might say, but I know it is not sad or too late for me, although it feels I only started living seven years ago, when Phil and some other friends convinced me to just sit down and write my story. I had so many excuses! I am not a writer, I was never educated, my spelling is not good. But in the end, my survival instinct took over, and God commanded me to just SIT DOWN AND DO IT. I had many thoughts, some that were uncomfortable. My unquenchable desire to be loved, I have come to realize was a purely selfish love. More painful realizations: my fear of not being loved was a result of my weakness of faith. What seemed like promiscuity, to me was as natural as breathing the air around me. To make love to one, two, or three different men– not at the same time of course–but in the same period of life, each with expectations of me, to really be loved by me, while most of them were unaware of my goingson. In my mad mind I wanted everything for myself, and thought nothing of my own infidelity.

My work with Nina Blanchard, took me to Hawaii next, and of course Walter was there at the docks in San Francisco to say goodbye, terrified that he was losing me. I was obviously way past the teaching of Professor Higgins school, but then hadn’t he always said he was too old for me, that I should find a good husband while I was young? He always reminded me that Eliza Doolittle did not actually marry the good professor in the play.

Even in Hawaii, film stars were all around us, sometimes shooting along with me for magazine covers and newspaper ads. It was a glorious week that went by incredibly fast; we worked all day and partied all night. Finally it was time to go back on the ship, and of course we celebrated our departure from Hawaii as well– what a party! They put leis around our necks, and told us that if you threw them overboard when the ship starts moving, they would tell our fortune; if your lei floated back toward the island or toward the ship you would be back to Hawaii, but if it floated away you won’t come back. Either way, the occasion was good enough to fill our champagne glasses and celebrate more! Although, I didn’t need any special occasion to drink. In fact, every occasion was good enough to celebrate, usually by drinking a lot.

That last night, the captain and first mate gave a formal dinner, which naturally meant more drinking, dancing, and celebrating. The second on command was single and tall and very good looking. The Captain was older, married, and not good looking, so when the second in command invited me to dance I was very flattered because he was supposed to dance only with the old lonesome ladies who had no partners. But I had partners, like the photographers for the magazine we were working for. Later that night, I was with the handsome second in command up on the deck, kissing and dancing under the stars, then drinking more champagne and going to his cabin. We became lovers instantly and later very good friends.

Of course it was all over by the time we reached San Francisco, where Walter’s influence took over again, like witchcraft, a Svengali. We went to the “No name Bar” is Sausalito. While he was talking, a wave of  remembrance of all the pain that he had inflicted crashed over me. I was not even realizing all the consequences of the drugs, alcohol, and abortions, to the full extent, not yet. I was still living in the moment, and not mature. Of course after a few drinks, again the promises to love forever came from him, along with my hope after his divorce, and starting a business in San Francisco. Maybe this time, was for real! I thought maybe he sensed that things were going out of his control and that was why he kept promising to be me, which he never did.

He drove me back to Los Angeles, then he took me out shopping for groceries for the apartment. He filled the shopping cart full of all kinds of food. He must have seen that our fridge was not very full. How kind of him, my family thought, but then as always, he was gone again. And I was left to survive, smile through the heartache, and be happy.

Returning to work in LA, I thought it best to have a car. It was no matter that I didn’t know how to drive, and had no driver’s license. I just headed to a dealership on Wilshire Boulevard, where they showed me a Renault, small two seater. It was tiny, but the price was right. Of course I bought it because it was French and chic!