Messenger Boy, Rollie

Here's a letter I had no idea I had.  For two years in the early sixties I attended the University of Portland on a work/scholarship in Theatre.  I got there because the director of the department had directed at the Old Brewery Theater, saw me, and offered me the scholarship.  Well, the scholarship meant that you were cheap slave labor, often working late into the night on sets, lighting, rehearsals, etc.  I did not get many good roles while I was there, and the final straw was when they got chosen to tour a show called "The Boy Friend" in Europe and Paul Oulette, the director I mentioned chose a man from the music department for the chorus and left me home.  In those days I had a pretty good voice and I thought I deserved to go.  Not to be.  Meantime I also had a job in the Commons where people ate as a waiter.  More work.  The last year there I was married.  She went to work as a secretary.  Then, after the first sememster I dropped out, angry at the world.  I got a job as a messenger boy for the Port of Portaland, a large operation on the docks.  I had a car, but it was not much of a job with an even poorer future.  But, I was determined to make it something and the bosses there liked me. One of them was the man who wrote this letter.  Not a bad indication of their feelings toward me when the boss writes this kind of a letter to a messenger boy.