He explained that he was not satisfied with their travel documents and wanted surety. The ship's officer looked through the papers and asked, "What is wrong with them? Let them go."
"But there is no one here to stand guarantee for them," the agent protested.
Chanji explained that they had very good references, and the officer said to the agent, "Quite frankly, I do not see any sense in your behavior. They even have references to show. If you still need a guarantor, I will stand guarantee. I am coming back shortly and want you to prepare permits for them to land."
This reprimand upset the immigration agent, but he issued the landing cards. When Chanji went to thank the ship's officer, he could not find him. No one knew who he was. It was the Master's proof to the scoffing American of the force behind his alphabet board.
Malcolm Schloss met the group at the pier. Baba was wearing an olive green felt hat that concealed his hair as he came down the gangplank, with a gray-green trenchcoat over his white sadra. Malcolm ruefully remembers his first meeting with the Avatar of the Age as he stepped onto American soil:
I had seen a picture of Meher Baba but I did not recognize him at first, nor was Meredith Starr prompt to introduce us. But when Baba, with his large, luminous brown eyes, smiled at me and held out his hand, instantly I knew who he was.
My own hand went out hesitantly. I had read the story of Sri Ramakrishna's first meeting with Vivekananda. According to the report, the Master Ramakrishna touched his visitor's knee with his foot. At that moment, the room reeled and disappeared, and Vivekananda lost all consciousness except the bliss of Union. I also wanted the bliss of Union, God knows, but the dock did not exactly seem the right place to experience that bliss. Baba thought likewise apparently, for nothing extraordinary happened. I was half-relieved, half-disappointed.
Smiling, Baba gestured, "Malcolm has a good heart."
Malcolm had brought two cars with him, one driven by Catharine Gardner and the other by Lillian Wardall. They drove out of New York City 40 miles north along the Hudson River to a small town called Harmon. There, arrangements had been made for Baba's stay. The group arrived at the house at 5:30 P.M.
Malcolm Schloss, 36, was a poet and an ardent seeker of Truth.