Peter Goers

Yes, yes.

It said in the paper that I worked in the theatre and every single theatrical and cinema management in New Orleans rang the hotel and offered me tickets at any time to come.

And I did because I couldn't ring home at that time of the night and I would go every night to the theatre or to the cinema...

because I felt safe there, Richard.

You know, sitting on plush seats watching something, I felt safe in a theatre and I was welcomed by my own there and I so valued that.

It was remarkable.

Pan Am had someone following me around and they subsequently reported, so much for the grieving son, he was at the theatre and the cinema every night, you know, this sort of thing.

which was awful.

Yes, someone in a theatre told us where he lived in Royal Street opposite a laundromat that he owned and I'd done the glass menagerie with this friend of mine, Rob Casenza, who was with me.

We found the house which was on a corner and the windows and the front door were on the street and

And we knocked on the door, somewhat nervously, and I think it's fair to say the nearly-est young man I have ever, ever met in my life came to the door and said, sort of a person who could put an S in the word banana.

LAUGHTER

He said, yes.

And we said, oh, we're from Australia and we're huge fans of Mr. Williams and is there any chance that we could meet him?

And he looked us up and down and, you know, we were young men.

And he said, never heard of him and slammed the door in our faces.

And we walked around the corner and the windows were on the street and...

We stood by the window thinking, well, we've lost nothing there.

And then suddenly Venetian blinds parted and Williams was a small man and at about his height, dark eyes looked out at us.

And I'm convinced it was Tennessee Williams himself.