Jonathan Goldstein

On August 14, 1945, he was sent to deliver the telegram that announced Japan's unconditional surrender to the Allies.

But on the way to deliver the message, he got pulled over for an illegal U-turn.

And thus, the end of World War II was delayed by 10 minutes.

Michael played the role of Thomas as he navigated that fateful day.

And the custodian of this exciting new world, the director of the movie, was a 25-year-old wunderkind named Quincy.

Quincy took to Michael immediately.

Throughout the production, he'd check in with Michael on the phone and take him out for wings.

Michael looked up to Quincy.

Even after filming wrapped, Quincy stayed in touch, calling Michael with updates about the movie's release.

If you don't know the name, Pat Croce was a media presence, an entrepreneur famous in the world of sports because he owned the Philadelphia 76ers in the late 90s.

He was a motivational speaker.

A noted pirate enthusiast.

And the kind of beloved pre-MeToo macho man who'd show up unannounced on the set of the local news just to scoop the anchorwoman up into his arms.

Because when you have that much joie de vivre, what choice do you have?

For a short film by an unknown director, The Messenger received an unheard of amount of press.

ESPN carried a story with footage of Michael on set, and there was a huge write-up in USA Today.

Michael was planning on college in the fall, but as anticipation around the movie grew, he started to reconsider.

Maybe Michael had been wrong all these years.

Maybe everyone had been.

Maybe he really was a good actor.