Paul H. Olm-Stoelting '43 was directing a mystery play and I was cast as the “bad guy" (type casting!) But, to all appearances, I was the good guy. In any event, the moment of truth arrived and pulled out a gun to afford me an escape from capture. No one knew I had loaded the gun with some blanks from the athletic department. So, when I fired the gun, everyone was really shocked. For a moment, no one said anything--it was as though we froze in space. Then Paul started to laugh and the "spell" was broken.

I also recall that my mother attended one of our performances in Founder's Gym. I could hear her gasp my name when I pulled out the gun. How could her boy be the evil one?