This is the way I heard it.

The year was 1943 and Powell was dozing on the set of another action movie.

Like most stuntmen, Powell could nap pretty much anywhere, even in the middle of a hectic set.

Sitting next to him was his manager, a man who now wondered if his 21-year-old client

would ever get the break he deserved. You see, unlike most stuntmen, Powell could actually act.

And unlike most actors, Powell had no ego. He never complained about the hazards of his

profession or wind about where his name might appear in the credits. If indeed, it appeared at all.

And today, he didn't care that he was doubling for the leading lady, something a lot of stuntmen

might have resisted. In short, Powell never said no. Maybe that's why everybody liked him. Maybe

that's why everybody called him Powell. Powell's big break came later that afternoon

when the leading lady on the film threw a hissy fit on the banks of the San Joaquin River.

Specifically, she refused to jump into the water as the script required.

It's not that she couldn't swim. It's just that the current was swift, the breeze was cold,

and frankly, she didn't want to get her hair wet. And besides, why should she? Isn't this why

she had a stunt double in the first place? The director was not pleased. Fred Wilcox wanted his

star to fully embrace her role as the next female action hero. A role he thought might lead to a

sequel and maybe even a franchise. Wilcox didn't expect her to do all of her own stunts,

but surely jumping into a river was not an unreasonable request for the next female action hero.

Was it? Well, it was no use. After much pleading and cajoling, the leading lady returned to her

trailer. And Wilcox called Powell. Actually, he called Powell's manager who found his favorite

client, napping again, this time under an oak tree by the craft services tent.

Rise and shine, pretty boy. The director is waiting for us down by the river. Let's go.

...