It happened on the way home from a meeting in Fillmore,40 miles north of Los Angeles.My friend Noel Blance,a helicopter pilot,offered me a ride back to the city.We were 50 feet in the air when we collided with a small plane flown by a flight instructor and his young student.Noel and survived,but the men in the plane died instanly.
I don't remember being pulled from the wreckage or the ambulance trip to a nearby hospital.But I do remember my wife,Anna,starting down at me on my gurney.After hearing of the accident,Anne took a helicopter to reach me.She insisted on moving me to our neighborhood hospital in L.A,Cedars-Sinai Medical Center.Another helicopter ride.Just what I needed!
But Anna was right.In L.A.I could get the best care for my spinal injury and start seeing psychiatrists for my very real ''survivor's guilt''.Anna has such good judgement and intuition,she rarely makes a wrong decision.After all,she first saved my life in 1958,when she refused to let me join film producer Mike Todd on his fatal flight.She saved me again after mystroke in 1995,when I became depressed and suicidal.要自己翻译的