Source: Las Vega Review Journal – By David Elfman

Source: Billboard

Jim McCrary, who was behind the camera for hundreds of album covers including Carole King’s iconic “Tapestry,” but who soured on rock photography following an encounter with a young Michael Jackson, died last month at age 72.

His niece Colleen Pollard told the LA Times that McCrary passed away April 29 of complications from a chronic nervous system disorder at a hospital in Palo Alto, Calif.

As a self-taught staff photographer for A&M Records, McCrary shot more than 300 album covers and countless promotional images for artists ranging from Cat Stevens, The Carpenters, Phil Ochs, Joe Cocker, Captain & Tenille and B.B. King. Perhaps his most famous cover was for King’s landmark 1971 album, “Tapestry,” which features the singer lounging on a window sill with her cat.

On his website , McCrary showcased dozens of other images of King through the years, including the cover for her “Tapestry” followup, “Music.”

Country rock fans have McCrary to thank for his part in documenting Gram Parsons and The Flying Burrito Brothers, including several early photo shoots with the band in Nudie Western gear as well as candid images during their brief history.

By the late 1970s, McCrary was photographing a wider range of younger artists, including ones he was not overly familiar with. One of those was Michael Jackson, whom he was tasked with shooting for the cover of his “Off the Wall” album. As the session was about to start, McCrary changed the channel on a nearby radio, even though the song playing was Jackson’s “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough.”

“Jim did not know Michael’s music and changed the radio station,” his niece Colleen Pollard, who was tasked with dancing with Jackson to loosen him up, told the LA Times. “I yelled, ‘No, that’s his song.’ The looks on Michael’s face and his manager’s were priceless.”

Jackson did not use any of the images and Pollard noted that this was one of the reasons McCrary left rock photography. “He said he just didn’t feel connected with the bands anymore,” she said.

He later transitioned to shooting portraits and still lifes and in 1990 opened up a camera equipment store in Hollywood, called Pix Camera.

McCrary is survived by a son and two brothers.

http://www.billboard.com/news/tapestry-photographer-jim-mccrary-dies-1006982362.story#/news/tapestry-photographer-jim-mccrary-dies-1006982362.story

Source: MALExtra

Source: MSN

The soul man recalls he and his pal were close to completing the USA For Africa song when he saw something slithering out the corner of his eye.

He says, “As I glance over my shoulder I’m looking into the face of a yellowish python. I am screaming like the last horror movie… and he (Jackson) goes, ‘Oh my God, there he is. Y’know Lionel, he was lost in the room. I knew he was here somewhere.’

“I said to him, ‘Michael, are you telling me you had a python in your room…?’ He said, ‘He’s been lost for a week.’”

Source: TV Replay

Director Brett Ratner stopped by ‘Jimmy Kimmel Live’(Weeknights., 12AM ET on ABC) and reminisced about his friendship with Michael Jackson. They were such good buddies that Ratner even stayed in “The Elizabeth Taylor Suite” at Jackson’s house when Taylor wasn’t there.

They met when Ratner was making the first ‘Rush Hour’ movie and he says all the King of Pop wanted to do was play practical jokes on people. One night the pair went for a drive around Santa Barbara in Jackson’s enormous stretch limo and they got their kicks by throwing water balloons out the window.

Unfortunately for a homeless guy who just happened to be walking by, Jackson had a good arm and hit him with a water balloon before driving off. Fortunately for Jackson, he was wearing a Hulk mask so his victim never knew who’d soaked him. Until maybe now, that is …

Note: I know most everyone has read this but its one of my favorite Michael stories.  It always makes me laugh. I love reading about how genuine and funny he was. Cutie

A few weeks ago, I was at a staff meeting for new employees where everyone in the room was asked to mention one interesting thing about themselves that nobody else would know. I waited patiently ’til my turn came around, and then calmly explained how Michael Jackson once sent me to J.C. Penney to buy him underwear.

Since I have told my friends this story countless times, I was a little surprised by the strong reaction people had to my off-the-cuff comment. I guess I shouldn’t have been. Like him or not, there is no denying that Michael Jackson is still a force of nature. Even my 5th graders are aware of him, and they were all of three years old when his last record came out! So to set the record straight, here is the account of my years with the so-called King of Pop.

Back in 1989, I was a fresh-faced college grad in Los Angeles searching for my first job. Since I was one of the six people that year who actually went to college just to learn how to work in a recording studio, I had no problem landing a position at one of the major studios in Hollywood. Of course, even with an expensive college degree, you couldn’t just expect to start off working with bands inside the building, because that required actual EXPERIENCE, which of course was what everyone else was out getting while I was pursuing my worthless degree.

Instead, they stuck me out in the parking shack across the street for two months. Strangely enough, I had some experience in this area, as I had spent the summer working as a valet in a garage near Fenway Park.

Parking cars for rock stars certainly had its moments. Iggy Pop once drove up in a Hyundai with no windshield. Either Milli or Vanilli tipped me a dollar for parking their Jeep. The Beastie Boys all sped off laughing one day in their rented Escort, and then drove straight up to Mulholland Drive and pushed it over the cliff. And once a week during lunch, David Crosby handed me a twenty-dollar bill to take his brand-new BMW 750 to the car wash, which really only set me back like three bucks. Once when I brought it back to him, he handed me another twenty for a tip.

Nevertheless, a promotion was inevitable, and in the winter of ’89. I was promoted to the midnight to eight janitorial position. At least I was happy to be inside the building, as it was getting cold in the unheated parking shack. But I knew absolutely nothing about cleaning toilets and mopping floors, as evidenced by the huge cloud of noxious smoke that spewed from the cleaning bucket on my first night when I mixed the bleach and ammonia together.

Washing David Crosby’s car for twenty bucks was one thing. But cleaning the studio bathroom after David Crosby had been in there for twenty minutes was a different deal entirely. For starters, I was supposed to stay awake all night, but after six hours of cleaning the entire building, this was easier said then done. Finally, one morning as I was leaving, the studio manager asked me to take two small brass elephant bookends home and polish them up before my next shift. I spent the day looking for another job instead, and found one right away at a studio down the street on Sunset Blvd.

At my new job, I was hired on as a “runner,” which meant I got to run errands all over LA in my trusty ’84 VW Rabbit. A couple months later, they moved me out to a studio in the San Fernando Valley for a “special” project.

This project would eventually become Michael Jackson’s “Dangerous” album. When I first started, Michael was working with three different groups of producers all trying to take the place of Quincy Jones, who had not been chosen to work on this project. I think Michael wanted to go out on his own for this one, but the problem was that he had no idea what he wanted! One day, Slash from Guns N’ Roses would be recording a searing guitar solo, while the next day, a chorus of thirty children would be singing a nursery rhyme or something.

Michael didn’t say much to me at first, until one day he ran in screaming that there was a “vagabond” sitting in the alley behind the studio. I took a look, expecting Charlie Chaplin to pop out or something, but there was just some homeless guy sipping malt liquor out of a bag on the back steps.

Eventually, Michael warmed up to me, and even started talking to me once in a while if he was in the mood. Once, he asked if I was going to have to go fight in the (Gulf) war. I told him I was probably too old to be drafted, and he responded by saying that he was relieved, because “if you went to the war, you could die.”

He also started sending me out on errands, like going out with his credit card one afternoon to fill his huge Blazer up with gasoline. If I remember correctly, he had an auxiliary gas tank mounted, so he could get up to his ranch without having to get out and fill up along the way.

I guess I should mention at this point that Michael is an awful driver. He hit everyone’s car in the studio lot at least once, including mine. One time, he rear-ended a guy on the 101 freeway, and just left the scene because the guy got out of his car and started screaming at him. Eventually, he gave up and got someone to drive him in to work every day.

Other memorable experiences include calling Tower Records (RIP) an hour before they closed, and having them shut down early so that Michael and I could go shopping. Even thought it was just up the road, I was glad to get out of MJ’s car and into the safety of the store! I think he dropped about $1500 on CDs that night.

Anyway, one day Michael shyly asked me if I could do him a special favor. I’m pretty sure this was after he stopped driving, so I guess he really didn’t have any other way to get stuff during the day. Of course I agreed, which was when he told me flat-out that he had just run out of underwear.

For pretty much the whole two years that I worked with him, Michael came in every day wearing black dress pants and a red button-down shirt. He had a whole rack of just these two items in his office, which I assume he either had cleaned and returned to him, or just threw away at the end of the day. But on this particular day, I guess he was running low on drawers.

At first, he just said that he wanted underwear. When I asked him what kind, he just repeated “Underwear!” When I told him I wasn’t his mother and didn’t know what to get, he kind of laughed, and then said “Hanes thirty please.” When I was almost out the door however, he came running up and yelled “make them thirty-twos, I don’t want them to be too tight!” So there it is folks. The King of Pop wears tightie-whities!

Other than that, I never saw any funny business going on for the two years I worked with him. I really enjoyed this experience, and even got my name on the CD! Michael was always polite and reserved in the studio, but he had his silly moments as well.

He was also really concerned about doing anything that would inadvertently upset anybody around him. Even though he was spending five thousand bucks a day on studio time, Michael left me this note one day on my desk. I kept it as a souvenir, and pull it out now and then if people ever question my story. It pretty much tells you everything you need to know about him as a person and an artist.

For the purposes of clarification, Michael was just telling me that he took a pen off my desk. Also, the French translation of “tightie-whities” to “panties,” although humorous, is not accurate. The type of undergarment I am describing is just a plain white pair of men’s cotton briefs. Many men continue to wear these into adulthood, though most switch to boxer shorts at some point.

MORE MUSINGS ON MICHAEL…………

http://axecollectorblog.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2007-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-08%3A00&updated-max=2008-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-08%3A00&max-results=13

Source: 225batonrouge.com

By Jeff Roedel

Bucky Black, who grew up in Baton Rouge, was required to keep his gig as pop star Michael Jackson’s personal chef confidential.

There is a secret to the bar at Coyote Blues Fresh Mexican Grill. It’s not like most secrets. It’s not about a tax return, a kickback or an affair. As the world watched the 24-hour news cycle churn up any and all rumors swirling around Michael Jackson’s death last June—with equal measures of shock and unrivaled fascination—our minds turned collectively to the moonwalk, Motown and those allegations of child abuse. But for Bucky Black, the timber framer who designed and finished that bar, the news turned his thoughts to barbecue chicken pizza, “Mac Attack” and Liz Taylor’s wedding. The 50-year-old Baton Rouge native was in complete denial.

“I thought he may be pulling one of his tricks, like a PR thing to get more privacy,” Black says. “I was sad, angry. When I was working for him, he had a lot of good influences around him. He was in charge, though. No doubt who was in charge.”

From late 1991 through 1994, Black and his wife Maggie worked as Jackson’s personal live-in chefs at Neverland Valley Ranch in Santa Barbara County, Calif. Always discreet, Black has not spoken publicly about his secret life with the King of Pop until now.

True to form, Black never plays the celebrity card when it comes to family, either. His father Bill Black Sr. is better known to lifelong Baton Rougeans as Buckskin Bill, the loveable local television star whose Storyland and The Buckskin Bill Show entertained local tots and elementary kids at 9 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. every day of the week from the mid-1950s through 1990. Black Sr.’s programs were twice named Best Local Children’s Television Show by the National Association of Broadcasters.

By 1961, Buckskin Bill was famous enough that when the delivery nurse asked him for his newborn son’s name, and he told her the kid was a junior, she said, “Yeah, but he’ll always be ‘Bucky.’ ” It was a tough act to follow, Black recalls.

As a kid he spent a lot of time on the WAFB set of his father’s show, though he rarely appeared on camera. During appearances and tapings, Black Sr. made sure to treat his son no differently than the other young fans of the show. “When we opened the Delmont Village Shopping Center, kids were lined up to meet Buckskin Bill,” Black Sr. recalls. “And then comes Bucky for an autograph, and he waited in line just like everyone else. But we did exchange a glance there. It was a special father-son moment.”

Michael Jackson enjoyed global fame, but he went on to great lengths to keep his personal life private.  Baton Rouge born Bucky Black got a rare glimpse into the King of Pop as his personal chef.

Black’s stint cooking for the most famous pop star on the planet came not through any Hollywood connections or star chasing, but eventually through a blood disorder. While serving as the maitre d’ at City Club, tending bar at The Iron Pot and looking ahead to culinary school in the early 1980s, Black was diagnosed with a rare blood condition called idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura. It results in a low platelet count, easy bruising and difficulty clotting. “I just had no energy,” Black says. “And being on Prednisone steroids in large doses is very uncomfortable.”

After one particularly disheartening visit to the doctor, Black turned to alternative therapies.

“I tried meditating one day and that was the first time I actually had a breakthrough on my platelet count,” he says. “With a combination of Transcendental Meditation and Prednisone I was able to navigate out of the problem.”

Black says meditating gave him more energy, and his interest in taste therapy drew him to the work of endocrinologist Deepak Chopra, who in 1985 was named director of the Maharishi Ayurveda Health Center, a new meditation retreat and spa in Lancaster, Mass.

Looking to reinvent his culinary career in the resort and spa industry, Black applied to work for Chopra’s kitchen staff.

“I had become disillusioned with the viability of haute cuisine,” he says. “The food and its consequent lifestyle seemed to me to be connected to the illness that I was getting over.”

The health center provided Black not only an opportunity to grow into a management role, but also an ideal getaway from the effects of his disorder. He met his wife, Maggie, there.

“Bucky was always serious about his work; it had to be perfect,” says Joe Catal, Chopra’s former dining room manager. “He just has such good leadership skills, which is why he was able to whip the kitchen into shape in Lancaster.”

Throughout the mid- and late 1980s the health center attracted a string of celebrities interested in alternative medicine and therapies, including Liz Taylor and former Beatle George Harrison. Michael Jackson was another. Chopra had recently become an adviser to the superstar singer. Jackson had moved into a massive Tudor home on Neverland Valley Ranch three years earlier and burned through six head chefs in the process. When he told Chopra he was looking for a new husband-and-wife team to run his kitchen, Chopra nominated the Blacks.

In the fall of 1991, Bucky and Maggie Black returned from their honeymoon to find a message on their answering machine. It was Chopra telling them about an interview with Jackson’s entourage.

Jackson flew the newlyweds to LAX, had them picked up in a limo and delivered to a penthouse suite on Wilshire Boulevard where $300 in cash and passes to Universal Studios awaited them.

The owners of Coyote Blues Fresh Mexican Grill in Baton Rouge hired Black to do the fine millwork for restaurant’s bar.

The following day they were driven to a cushy recording studio in Century City, where they were introduced to the King of Pop. “He was very nice and kind, but shy, painfully shy,” Black says. “He asked if I could cook Mexican food. He wanted to eat healthy, but at the same time he wanted to eat junk—candy and things. So he was looking for a way to eat healthily and happily at the same time.”

The next day, the Blacks were driven to Neverland Ranch for a test run. Black took stock of the food on hand and cooked up a barbecue chicken pizza that Jackson loved. He was hired.

“Michael liked pretty simple food, comfort foods,” Black says. “He and his friends had been wined and dined and overwhelmed everywhere they went with rich cuisine, and they were all just looking for good home cooking. My whole Cajun and Louisiana background fit in well with that.”

The Blacks moved into one of the original on-site ranch homes almost a mile from Jackson’s main house across Neverland’s sprawling Peter Pan-themed grounds and attractions. The only rules were that Black must be on call 24-hours-a-day to cook for Jackson and his guests and that he and Maggie had to be discreet. No photographs and no gossiping to friends, much less tabloids. They reported directly to ranch manager Lance Brown.

The first six weeks passd in breathless preparation for Liz Taylor’s wedding to Larry Fortensky. Eventually, Black trained and managed a staff of about 150 cooks and food service employees for special events, like Make-A-Wish Foundation days for children with disabilities. One aspect of the Neverland arrangement worried him, though.

“I had the dubious distinction of becoming my wife’s boss, which is never the way you want a marriage to start,” Black says. “It was an extremely difficult thing for the first year of our marriage, but I knew how I wanted to run that kitchen, and eventually it brought us closer together in a number of ways.”

The Blacks were on hand in 1993 when the family of a 13-year-old boy accused Jackson of child molestation and then agreed to an undisclosed multi-million-dollar settlement.

Black with his parents “Buckskin” Bill and Elma    

Black says the scandal rocked Jackson at the time, though he “never saw Michael put a child in harm’s way.”

He recalls child actor Macaulay Culkin’s frequent visits—also known as “Mac Attacks”—as total family affairs. Unlike Neverland’s more famous guests, the Culkin family, including seven kids, would let Black indulge in a little more gourmet dining. That meant trips to the Santa Barbara farmers market, though there were late-night pizzas and chicken sandwiches, too.

“I think it was Macauley who named my chicken sandwich the ‘Can-Bucky-Fry-Chicken Sandwich,’ ” Black says of the young actor’s wit. “We also made French fries and fresh hot doughnuts. As I remember, Macaulay was pretty easy to take care of and didn’t need much out of the ordinary, though Michael was really into giving his guests anything they wanted, whenever they wanted, at Neverland.”

As for Jackson himself, Black says his schedule was erratic. He could be gone traveling for months at a time or home at Neverland for long stretches. Like his public persona, he most often wore a long-sleeve red dress shirt and a black fedora around the house and a surgical mask when leaving and arriving.

“No food allergies, and he never complained about any of it,” Black says. “He was not a big eater. He would have preferred to live on art and air, I think. But we cooked for him breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

Jackson would often call from around the world to tell Black to prepare food for guests who were to arrive soon. Once, in the early a.m. hours, Black received a call from security that “the owner” had arrived and wanted a snack. Black fell asleep again before scrambling out of bed and speeding down to the main house in his employee-issue golf cart. He screeched to a halt just as Jackson and Brooke Shields were exiting the Neverland movie theater. The next day, Jackson kindly asked Black to slow down on Neverland’s quaint, narrow roads. “He was very charismatic without saying a word,” Black says. “He could also be aloof. He didn’t have a lot to say, but he could listen.”

After their first son, William Aubrey, was born, the Blacks wanted to move somewhere more conducive to raising a family. “We just got tired of it, the political struggles between the different authorities—his managers in Los Angeles, all the outside catering crews. Plus, the hours were so irregular.”

There were no hard feelings from Jackson. At almost four years, the Blacks had made it longer in the kitchen at Neverland than anyone before. To show his appreciation, Jackson gave Black a Panasonic boom box, a Super-8 video recorder and a television.

“It was a compound, really, Neverland Valley,” says Black Sr. “He and Maggie lived there for three-and-a-half years, and couldn’t have friends visit. They’d had their first baby by then. Family and Neverland just didn’t equate.”

Leaving the world of Michael Jackson behind, the Blacks relocated to five acres of quiet farmland near Boone, N.C., where they could raise their two sons and cook on their own schedule. Bucky started a saw milling company in 1998, and Maggie continued crafting pottery and began teaching a community outreach class at Appalachian State University.

Still meditating, Black says he hasn’t felt negative effects from his blood disorder in years. Though no longer cooking for a living, Black has tailored his woodwork to the restaurant industry. Crafting spectacular wood tabletops and bars is his specialty. This past August, Black returned to Baton Rouge for two weeks to shape and install the golden-colored black walnut bar at Coyote Blues. It was his first time working in Baton Rouge since the 1980s.

There, he opened up about Jackson for the first time, still trying to digest his death nearly two months later. The world lost an entertainer, but Black lost a friend. While making his point, he’s pouring resin into groovy, ant-damaged sections of wood.

“I like to leave details that remind people that this came from a tree,” Black says, running his hands over the smooth surface. “The idea is to never hide the knots.”

Source: The Michael Jackson World Network

Back in March, 1992 Michael was filming his ‘In The Closet’ short film. Just before this, a competition was run on MTV around the world with the prize being ‘Dinner With Michael,’ which some of you may remember. The Australian winner of this competition was Paula Katsikas. Here is Paula’s story…

With my husband holding him and me with the long hair to the right of the photo.

It was back in March 1992, yet I remember it like it was yesterday. They were premiering his new clip then, ‘Remember The Time’, here in Australia, like they would have been all over the world and with the premiere and the promotion of his upcoming ‘Dangerous’ tour there was also a competition, where the winner and their partner would be flown to America to have dinner with Michael. The anticipation for this video was huge and I remember watching the video clip in awe, over and over again, amazed at how just when you think you have seen all there is to see from Michael he brings out something even more brilliant then before.

The next night, while still at the dinner table with my family, and while writing out the last of my entries for the competition of a life time, a competition that nothing could stop me from entering, I remember turning to my somewhat skeptical family to say the least and saying; “Just you all wait and see, I am going to win this!” The funny thing is that I did win and I didn’t even know it.

Michael and Naomi in front

The following Monday I called work not feeling well and to advise that I wouldn’t be in. My supervisor did mumble something about Michael, but as I was not feeling well, I didn’t take much notice and hung up. Within a couple of minutes I had a call back from work from one of the other girls hysterical on the phone shouting, “Paula you won! Paula you won!” It took about two more calls from work and another two from MTV before I actually believed it. I swear that when I hung up from that last call the whole neighborhood must have heard me scream. They had drawn the Australian winner the previous Saturday, but we were at a wedding and didn’t even see it. I mean you don’t really think that you are going to win. Anyway, about a week or two later my husband and I were on our way to America to have dinner with Michael.

We were greeted at the airport by a Starlite Limo and driven to the La Belage hotel in Hollywood where we caught up with our MTV representatives and the other winners. There were thirty winners all together and their partners. They held a party for us to all meet that night and the next morning we were driven by bus to the Marriott Palm Desert hotel in Palm Springs where we had time to get ready before they came and picked us up to take us to the dinner to meet Michael that night.

We were driven to a secret location where they had been filming Michael’s ‘In The Closet’ during the day. The feeling was surreal when they took us to take photos on the actual set, before Michael arrived. I look at the photos even now, then look at the film clip with Michael and Naomi and it is still hard to believe that we are actually standing on the same set.

Us with one of Michael’s animals

A big Marquee had been set up for the dinner with a real tropical carnival theme going on. There was lots of entertainment organized for us that night, from animals, like an elephant, a cheetah, a camel, a llama, a chimpanzee, as well as a puma who you felt was going to rise up and change into Michael at any moment, like it does in ‘Black or White,’ to a magician, people on stilts, fire eaters, and Rio dancers. The atmosphere was amazing and Michael had spared no expense. The place had been set up like a restaurant with small round dinner tables. We had been seated right up the front and next to our table was an empty reserved one. Much to our delight we were told that this was Michael’s table.

By this time we were overwhelmed by excitement as at any minute Michael was going to walk through the door and come and sit right next to us. We could barely contain ourselves and the agony of the wait was killing us. I remember us going outside and waiting to see Michael arrive by helicopter, but we were soon told we had to go back inside and sit down before he would come out of the helicopter and walk in. We did go back inside and finally Michael walked in. It was like the Earth just stood still. The media had been cruel, even back then, by claiming Michael was strange and weird, but let me tell you, I saw nothing strange or weird. I saw this beautiful, well dressed man walk through the door that was polite, well spoken, and gracious like he always is, and I will never forget that smile, that mesmerizing smile of his that just took your breath away. He truly looked amazing! The only thing strange I remember is how everything he walked past just seemed to light up and of how you just couldn’t take your eyes of him.

The set for In The Closet

Michael greeted people as he walked past and then came and sat down. I remember going over to him with my husband, giving him a hug and a koala (not real of course), that he placed on his lap and started patting. The picture at that moment was priceless. We thanked him for the dinner and asked him whether he was coming to Australia soon and he replied “yes” and said that he would be touring. He was referring to the upcoming ‘Dangerous’ tour. (The Australian tour was later cancelled and we had to wait till the ‘History’ tour to see Michael again.) I had gone over in my head all the things that I was going to say to him and here I was up close and the words just wouldn’t come out. He literally left me speechless.

I remember Michael getting up and dancing the Conga. He and Naomi were both pulled up by one of the Rio Dancers and everyone else joined in a line behind. Here we were dancing the Conga with Michael…Not something you do everyday. I also remember how they called us and Michael over for our photo shoot together and of how my husband who was positioned directly behind him for the photos, placed both his hands on Michael’s shoulders and kept them there, even after being told to take them off by the photographer and of how Michael just turned his head around and gave this adorable smile. I also remember Michael turning around once the photos had finished and shaking our hands and bowing his head to us as we bowed to him. Here is this huge superstar, the world’s biggest Entertainer ever, that still has this humble nature about him. The only thing that night that I don’t seem to remember, even though it was a dinner, was eating any food. I know that there was plenty of food there, all personally prepared by Michael’s chef, and I remember Michael taking the first mouth full to start the dinner, but I don’t remember eating a single thing. Believe me that with Michael being so close to me, food was the last thing on my mind that night.

Michael was supposed to stay for only half an hour that night but he ended up staying for about two and a half hours. These were the best two and a half hours of my life and they will be remembered and treasured along with Michael for the rest of my life.

Here we are on the set of In The Closet

We weren’t allowed to take any photos of Michael ourselves, and had been told that if we did, Michael would probably just get up and leave and no one wanted that. I guess this way he could relax a little more and enjoy the night without it feeling like a media attack with cameras constantly in his face. We were however sent a few photos and a short video of Michael with us by MTV. I frequently look at the photos and play the video to remind myself that it did really happen, that it wasn’t just a dream.

Michael may have been taken away from us physically but he is embedded so deep in both mine and my husband’s heart that no one can ever take him away from there without taking our hearts out as well.

Thank you Michael for this beautiful memory – Thank you Michael for all you have given us and for all that you were. You will always be loved and you will never ever be forgotten!

MICHAEL JACKSON INTERVIEW BY BRET RATNER (VIDEO IS NOT IN ORIGINAL ARTICLE)

Probably only the President of the United States is a s tightly protected as Michael Jackson – and even the President isn’t quite so hard to meet.  To most these days, Jackson appears only sporadically, if at all – a wonderful mirage visible onstage for a few hours in that flashing, high-tech Oz: The Victory Tour.  But every so often an elevator operator, an adoring fan or a security agent has snared Michael and sometimes lives change as a result.  Leslie Robinette of Greenville, Tennessee credits her recovery from aplastic anemia to Michael’s visit in a Seattle hospital 11 year ago, when she was 6.  “I’ll never forget it,” she says.  “I just perked right up afterward and the medication started working.”  Most encounters are less dramatic-a cop has his picture taken, a Dallas Cowboy gets a $50 dollar bill autographed-but meeting Michael has a way of delighting almost everyone.

David Smithee and Michael

Like Millions of fans, 14-year-old David Smithee’s most fervent wish was to meet Michael Jackson. He didn’t have much time.  David was dying of cystic fibrosis.  Last April the boy’s wish was answered.  Through the Brass Ring Society, a Tulsa group dedicated to fulfilling the dreams of terminally ill children, Michael invited David to the Jackson family home in Encino.

At 2 p.m. on April 9, Karen Smithee, a divorcee, drove her only child past the fans at the singer’s gate.  “We smiled and waved just like celebrities,” she says.  Michael met them in the living room, “so shy he couldn’t look at us.”  The Karen left them alone.  Michael took the boy to the kitchen for lunch (David had a roast beef sandwich), then to the backyards to meet Mr. Tibbs, the ram and Louis, the llama, after which Michael’s staff videotaped an interview with David.  “Michael made David feel like a star in his own right,” Karen says.  Jackson and his young visitor played video games (David won twice) and watched a movie in the private theater.  “There David was, sitting in Michael’s jacket, looking happier than I had ever seen him.,”Karen recalls.  Michael gave her son his red leather jacket from the Beat It video and the black-sequined glove he wore to the American Music Awards.  “He said the glove had a special magic, that I should never let anyone else wear it,” David proudly told his mother.

Seven weeks later David Smithee died. In July Karen learned that the dedications on the Victory album included Katherine Jackson, Michael’s mother, the late Marvin Gaye-and David.

Hector Carmona and Michael

At 2:30 early one morning in May, Hector Carmona, 26, was working the night shift as an elevator operator at New York’s elegant Helmsley Palace Hotel when a guest-one Michael Jackson-appeared asking for a tour.  Hector squired Jackson around for three hours and “he was especially impressed with the Gold Room, a music room with a beautiful harp.”  He was also impressed with Carmona’s uniform.  He said, “Oh, what a nice jacket.  But you ought to wear one glove. Two is too much.”  He said he’d like to have a jacket for his concerts.  We’re about the same size, 36 small.  Carmona retrieved one of his spares the next morning.  “It had just come from the cleaners.  I fixed it nice, with the captain’s braid on the shoulders.  He liked it very much. He wore it to the White House.”  Now Hector Carmona is a celebrity too. “I showed a picture of me with Mr. Jackson to a couple of girls.  They screamed, “This is the closest we’ll get to Michael. Let’s kiss him!”  Michael Jackson fever. It’s crazy, huh?”

Administrator’s Note:  I found out that Hector is currently working as an English Language Instructor, Interpreter, Translator, Singer. Poliglot (Spanish, English, Italian, French, Papiamentu. Some Russian, German, Arabic, Latin, Gipsy, Tagalog) in New York City.

Michael wearing Hector’s jacket at the White House

Mani Khalsa (no picture)

A typical morning finds Mani Khalsa in a local store shopping for asparagus, watermelon, peas, red peppers, cabbage, avocado, spaghetti, unsalted cheese and corn.  As personal chef to Michael, Khalsa, 25, a Michigan-bred Sikh, spends five hours a day cooking for the slim vegetarian (the brothers have their own chef).  “It’s impossible to cook for one,” Khalsa grumbles.  “Even a pepper is too big.”  His efforts are appreciated, though.  “Sweet potato pie is the hit of this tour,” he beams.  “Everywhere you turn they ask for it.”  And Michael’s favorite? “Enchiladas with cheese, tortillas and hot sauce. Every day his mother asks, “You still eatin’ those enchiladas?”

David Williams – Guitarist

If any knows Jackson musically, it is guitarist David Williams, who has accompanied him for five years.  ” I can play exactly the way that hears something,” boasts Williams, 34, a top LA session musician who has played with the Temptations and Marvin Gaye.  After Jackson heard him in 1979, Williams spent many hours in Michael’s home studio on Off the Wall, the toured with in him 1981 and still finds his talent “unbelievable.”  Says Williams, “Michael’s ideas are fresh.  He hears things, sounds that are coming from someplace else.”

Administrator Note:  Mr. Williams passed on March 9, 2009, three months before Michael, in a hospital in Hampton, VA from complications from high blood pressure.  He was only 58.  Mr. Williams also performed with Prince, Madonna, Chaka Khan, Jessica Simpson, Phil Collins, Van Halen and Lionel Richie.  He is best known for his work on with Michael, particularly on the Thriller album. May he rest in peace. ♥ ♥

Alice and Elizabeth Heap (No picture)

It was sheer curiosity that drew Alice Heap, 83, and her kid sister, Elizabeth, 77, to a Jackson concert in Knoxville, Tenn. A schoolteacher for 45 years, Alice is interested in the young. When reporter Marti Levary told Jackson security agents that two elderly ladies were in the audience, the women were invited backstage. “I see you have your earplugs in,” a costumed man impishly told Alice. “Who are you?” Alice Heap asked, understandably confused by the scene. “I’m Michael Jackson,” her bemused host said, squeezing her hand, which she later used to applaud enthusiastically.

Dextor Clinkscale

Tough guys like Michael Jackson too.  In July, several members of the Dallas Cowboys asked Chris Arnold, sports director of radio station K104 FM, to arrange a meeting with the singer. So Arnold took Robert Newhouse, Tony Hill, Dennis Thurman and Dextor Clinkscale to a concert.  When the jocks joined Michael backstage, Jackson recognized safety Clinkscale, 25, who had posed for a local paper dressed as Michael on the Thriller album a year earlier.  “Hey, that was you,” Michael said, grinning.  “I thought it was me at first.  Where did you get the clothes?”  Near the end of the half-hour meeting, Arnold, lacking any other paper, pulled out a dollar for Jackson to autograph.  Clinkscale had the same problem, but Cowboy salaries being what they are, he got Michael to sign a $50 bill.

Bill Bray

Back in 1969, when Michael was 10, Motown sent security agent Bill Bray, a 30 year veteran of the LAPD, to Richmond, California to guard the Jackson 5 during a promotional trip.  Bray has been the family’s security chief ever since and has seen to the mammoth protection necessitated by the Victory tour, even going undercover occasionally to follow a lead.  During these 16 years, Bray has seen Michael grow from a child star to superstar, at a price.  “He had to be sheltered and he sacrified what a youth at his age would normally do,” say Bray with the kind of emotion you’d expect from a family member.  “The things he missed along the line he’s seen that others behind him won’t miss.”  But the Jackson’s go what they wanted – “They always has the idea that they would become superstars” – and it hasn’t been all work.  “We’ve had fun,” Bray says. “My God, we’ve had fun.  I love ‘em, you understand.  In a way, I grew up with ‘em.”

Administrator Note:  Mr. Bray died on November 16, 2005.  He was still on Michael payroll at the time of his death.

Mike Hirsh (No Picture)

Mike Hirsh has a different perspective on Michael Jackson.  During every show he is underneath the stage, cranking hydraulic lifts, firing up smoke machines and raising the lid that enables Michael to ascend into view. “My title is stage manager.  I am like the fixer,” says the 32 year-old Hirsh, who at 6’10″, 240 pounds goes by the nickname “Lurch.”  “If  I have a problem I go in the dressing room and say, “Michael, let’s have a chitchat. The kid wants perfection.”  Even so, Hirsh’s crew has fun.  “Every night Michael looks down through the drum riser on Shake Your Body.  We’re down there dancing, doing the same thing they’re doing onstage.  I’ve seen him have to run to the microphone because he was so into watching us that he forgot to go back and sing.

Administrator’s Note:  Mr. Hirsh is the founder of LA Stage Call, a labor company that provides quality stagehand labor in the entertainment industry, including workers’ compensation and liability insurance.

By Nicole

You never forget your first love. Whether it’s your first crush, your first kiss, or the first time you even noticed boys existed, you always remember the joy they filled you with. The guys that come later bring to mind complicated, adult feelings like pain and heartache, but that first love is pure and perfect, especially in hindsight.

My first love was a celebrity. I grew up with MTV, watching Madonna roll around in a bridal gown and Billy Idol dancing with himself on a dingy roof. But there was one man I loved from the very first time that I heard him sing: Michael Jackson. 

I can’t tell you the moment I first saw him or the day I decided I loved him. I was about five years old and, in addition to my cast albums of Annie and Grease, I regularly put Thriller on my Fisher Price record player in my yellow bedroom in Brooklyn, New York. I have no sense of rhythm so I never attempted to learn the “Thriller” dance. I would just run around my room, jumping on the bed and singing “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’.”

Every night after I said my prayers I would kiss Michael goodnight. He was my first poster, all dapper in his yellow sweater promoting the Thriller album. I had the same picture on a folder that I put my homework in, and I made my parents tape not only the Thriller video but also the making-of special that MTV ran. 

I watched The Jackson 5 cartoon on Saturday mornings, listened to Off The Wall in my Fisher Price tape player. I listened to that tape so much that it became warped and Michael sang “Rock With You” verrrrry slowly. I found it last night in my music collection after I heard the tragic news of his passing.

When I learned that Michael Jackson had died I was in a car driving to my mother’s house. I pulled over to the side of the road and started sobbing. I had never met him, never been to a concert and probably had stopped listening to his music after Dangerous came out in the late ’90s. I cried because what came rushing back was that image of Michael watching over me as I fell asleep as a child. All of the crazy stories, the lawsuits, the surgeries . . . it all disappeared. All I felt was love, the same clear, innocent love I felt when I was five. I will never experience that kind of love again.

I dried my eyes and pulled out my Thriller CD (sitting in my car with all of my favorite albums), popped it in and went to track 7 and listened to Michael sing “Human Nature.” He may have left this world, but he will never leave my life. He’s the first man I ever loved and he left a wealth of brilliant music for me to remember him by. I love you still Michael. God bless you and keep you in his grace until you are reunited with those you love.

By Debby Barker   Fri, Apr 01, 2011

What some of us have only dared to dream others have experienced; meeting Michael or seeing him perform live. Read their stories and share the magic of that moment.

The Day I Met Michael

Many friends of mine have asked me to share this wonderful experience. I’ve tried my best to tell it somehow, but I think it’s impossible to describe such a deep, strong emotion. What Michael gave me on that day is beyond words.

Before I begin, I’d like to say that Michael was not only my favorite artist, he accompanied me through different times of my life; during the lightheartedness of my adolescence and also in my hardest times. His music was actually the sound track of my life. Thanks to him I met my husband, not to mention the wonderful friendships that I made.

When I was a child, I called my secret diary “Michael,” and every time I wrote something in it, it was like I was speaking to him. I remember that I covered up my room’s walls with all of his photos, but in particular, I had his poster in life-size beside my bed portraying him lying down; he really just seemed to be on my bed.  I remember it looked so natural that my little nieces were scared of it. They adored Michael, but still they were so scared that he would turn into a werewolf. If you only knew of all the conversations that I had with that poster….well, I was 11 at the time. Many children have their imaginary friend; I had Michael Jackson.

The first great emotion that I felt was on May 23rd, 1988, the first time I went to see him in concert (I was 17 years old.)  It was in Rome at the Flaminio Stadium, the first European stop on the BAD Tour.

Oh my God, what a concert!

In 1990, I married Giuseppe, better known as “Peppe Michael Jackson.”  I’m not joking when I say that he was famous for his resemblance to Michael.

In 1991, my first child Tania was born. Needless to say, she already knew Michael from her mother’s womb.  On July 4^th, 1992, I attended another concert. It was during the Dangerous Tour, and only those who have seen this concert can understand how wonderful it really was.

In 1993, Vincenzo, my second child, was born. A great joy for me, but unfortunately that year, I had to face a very tough reality. Tania, my daughter, was diagnosed with Autism.

It’s not that easy for a 22-year-old girl to discover she had an Autistic daughter. I’m not referring only to the hurt of finding out, but it’s not easy to handle such trouble at that young age (it’s never easy; whatever age is it, honestly). Thanks to God, He gives us, besides all the pains and the sorrows in our life, also the strength and the dignity to face them.

Growing up and becoming a mother never reduced my love for Michael. On the contrary, it increased. Perhaps it was because I always identified myself with him. Michael and I had so many things in common. Our childhoods and the things we missed during that time, and having 3 sisters and 5 brothers increased my love for him more, I guess.

In 1996, I knew that Michael would have started his HIStory Tour in Prague. Some of my friends were getting ready for the tour, and I was feeling very bad because I knew that having two little children would keep me from ever going with them. As “fate” would have it, my neighbors were from Prague. They knew very well what I felt for Mike. I’ll never forget that night when they told my husband: “Come on you! Michael Jackson will be in our town. Let Stefania go see him with her friends. Our house is midtown of Prague and is vacant, so she could stay there. We will help you here with the babies.”

When my husband said yes, I couldn’t believe it!  It seemed to me as I could fly!  Since that day my dreams started, and I said to myself: “This time I will not be satisfied only by watching him on stage. He must know that I exist. He’s got to know what he gave me and what he represents to me. I’ll have to do something to impress him.”

So I got a canvas, 2 x 3 meters, and I started painting on it. I just had such a strong inspiration. I knew so well what to do; Michael sitting under a tree with the Walt Disney characters all around him. Peter Pan sitting on his knees; a river, a lawn, many children and Topo GiGio (whom he really adored) waving the Italian flag. I had lots of time to do it since I would not see Michael for many months. ‘I’ll make it.’ I repeated  to myself, and I kept on painting with all my love.

Finally, on September 5^th, I landed at the Prague airport with my friend Vania and my canvas. Sonia and Patrizia who were also from Naples, were waiting for us. They had arrived two days before. We went to our friends’ house to drop off our suitcases, and then we rushed off right away to the Intercontinental Hotel where Michael was staying. On our way in the car, Sonia told me she was lucky enough to have hugged Michael the day before. Some fans were allowed to stand within the barriers placed in front of the hotel entrance. She was even allowed to enter with another group of fans into the restaurant where Michael was. I was happy for her, but at the same time I was regretting that I had not been there the day before. Maybe (who knows) Michael could have seen my canvas. This thought kept repeating itself.

Finally, we arrived near the hotel. We knew we were getting close because we could hear hundreds of fans screaming all around. They were gathering under the canopy of the hotel. I began trembling like a leaf, especially when I looked up and saw beside his window an enormous tarpaulin, affixed with the MJ mark on it.

Suddenly, everyone started screaming louder and the crowd flocked together. “Michael! Michael!” Yeah, it was him! He was leaving to go to Letenska Park for rehearsal. We couldn’t see him; we were behind too many others. This is when I had my first hysterical breakdown and cried. We all went to the Park; his voice resounded everywhere. We could hear him clearly as he rehearsed, and each time the wind blew stronger and moved those tarpaulins that divided us, we could even see him. He was stunning.

That night I couldn’t close my eyes for the thought of the next morning, when we would have to leave in the early dawn to get the best places to stand at the hotel. We were the first to arrive that morning, September 6th. We put my drawing within the barriers just in front of the main entrance, so when Michael would come out he would surely see it just in front of him.

The long wait began. Meanwhile, several fans began to arrive increasing the crowd in an amazing way. They were coming from every part of the world. Many of them came up to me to compliment me on my drawing. Michael’s photographer approached me and started taking pictures of it, very satisfied. A little bit later, Michael’s cameraman was there too, and videotaped the canvas for what seemed to be a very long time. He congratulated me on a great job as well.

I was certainly very flattered by that, but I wanted Michael. I wanted to see his eyes looking down on my canvas, and then hope that our glances would cross into one another’s. I had dreamed it for so many years. Finally, into the later part of the morning, the hotel door opened. Everybody started screaming “Michael! Michael!” I was paralyzed. I couldn’t believe it; he was just a few meters from me. He was gorgeous!

He wore black trousers, a red shirt and a black jacket. At one point he looked down at the drawing. He even stopped to do his thumbs-up as if to say, “Okay!” He took a few steps forward to say hello to the crowd, and then he came back to sit in the car. He must have gone to the wrong vehicle because he got out and went to another car. (There were 2 of the same looking cars parked in a row.) Wayne, his bodyguard, called Teddy Lakis (star promoter) and pointed to the drawing. He came over to us and said, “Michael likes this drawing very much, he‘d like to have it.” Since I had lost my tongue to speak, my friends answered, “Oh, yes! This was drawn just for him, but she would love to have the pleasure of giving it to him personally.”  He went back to Michael to report what he was told, and then returned to us and said, “Okay, Mr. Jackson is going to visit the President, but when he comes back he said you’re invited to go up in his room.” After those words, I couldn’t understand anything more. I laughed, I cried, I trembled, I stammered; I was totally out of my mind!

He hadn’t much make-up on and he was gorgeous! His hair was tied in a strange way; a sort of loose ponytail. He wore the same red shirt of that morning, but had on different trousers. I was trembling so badly and praying, ‘God please, I don’t want to cry and look foolish, so please give me the strength to control myself and stand on my own two feet.’

I went on staring at him; I did not want to miss anything. Suddenly, Wayne motioned to me to open the tube and I made a fool of myself once again. Since it was huge and very heavy, I made it crash into the chandelier with a terrible clatter. Luckily it didn’t break, and I only managed to say in a whisper, “Oh, sorry.” It was in that moment that his eye caught mine, and he smiled with the sweetest expression.

As the bodyguards rolled out the canvas, Michael stood up from the chair with an, “Oooohhh!” as if to say, “At last!” He began to observe it with the enthusiasm of a child. He was very sweet because I was very nervous, and he tried to make me feel at ease by commenting on it aloud and smiling, “Oh my God, it’s wonderful!” Then, without turning away from the picture, he came closer to look at it and he started shouting, “Oooohhh, Topo Gigìo!” dwelling on the final i of the name. Everyone was laughing at his childlike behavior but me. I was paralyzed.

His eyes lit up like those of a child in front of his favorite toy. Apart from Wayne and Yanik, there were some kids in his room and a woman whom I think was their mother: She had always been with Michael since his arrival in Prague, but I did not know who she was.

When Michael saw Topo Gigio with the Italian flag in his hand, he asked me, “Are you Italian?” I answered, “Yes”. The woman immediately began to speak to me in Italian and said, “Oh, how nice, I’m Italian too. Where are you from?” When I answered, “I’m from Naples,” Michael smiled at me and said, “Oh, I love Naples.” 

He kept on analyzing the picture; concentrating on every single detail and saying, “Oh boy, it’s wonderful, wonderful!” Luckily the woman helped me by acting as an interpreter. Michael asked me, “Why did you choose to portray us under a tree?” I answered, “I don’t know, it has been a sort if inspiration. I saw it in my mind before painting.” He said, “Oh, sure. You had a vision! That tree means a lot to me.”
Then the woman smiled and said to me, “Wow, he said he will bring it home and put it in his room.” I couldn’t believe it and I just said, “Thank you.” He said, “No, thank you! You gave me such a beautiful present. It is full of love.”  He went on saying, “Thank you, I love you.”

Wayne, who was holding up the canvas together with the woman, told Yanik to take a picture. Unfortunately, at that moment Michael put on his mask. I believe he did so because he had almost no make-up on. I could clearly see some spots of vitiligo on his face, in particular between his cheek and the right ear. Then he gave me his hand, and invited me to stand close to him for the photo.

I don’t know how I managed to stand on my feet, especially when I felt his hand holding my hip. I wore an openwork t-shirt, and I could feel his fingers touching my skin; he smelt of vanilla perfume. It was the hardest time of my life. My heart was beating so hard that I’m sure he could hear it too. In the meantime, Yanik was fighting with the camera and couldn’t get the picture. Michael said something, but I couldn’t understand. He told Yanik something like he was the only one who could be a true bodyguard, and then he teased him by saying, “Hello, Yanik, you know that if you don’t push the button you can’t take the picture, don’t you?” Everybody started laughing. I was still feeling Michael’s hand on my hip and I felt very dizzy. It seemed like the whole room was moving around me. I took a deep breath and smiled while Yanik finally took the picture. Michael exclaimed, “We did it!”

That was the most beautiful moment in my life; his beautiful eyes were staring at mine. He understood that I was much too excited and so he asked me, “Are you ok?” with such an incredible sweetness. That was the real moment that I did let myself go. I threw my arms around him sobbing, “Oh, Michael.” He hugged me too; he held me so tightly and I broke down and cried. That was the one thing I never wanted to do in front of him, crying just like every common fan, but I accumulated too much tension so I could not hold it back. Michael, with all his sweetness, kept on caressing my head and my back. If I could have, I would have stopped the time and stayed in his arms and felt his warmth, heard his voice and smelled his perfume into eternity.

I couldn’t believe it. I dreamt of that moment since I was a child. I have imagined that scene a million times, and now I really was there in those arms. God, he smelled so good, and how tight he was holding me! I shall never be able to describe what I felt at that moment. Never! 

Since I couldn’t stop crying, I told him, “I’m sorry,” and he said to me, smiling with such an indescribable kindness, “Oh-oh! It’s all right.” He stared at me with that particular glance that only he has and asked me again, “Are you ok?” It was incredible! Just a few moments earlier he looked like a child to me, and now only a few minutes later he took the stature of a father figure. I told him, “I’m fine, thank you.” Then he smiled and asked me with some curiosity what I had in my bag.

I actually didn’t realize that I had been holding my bag since I entered the room, but I was so excited I didn’t think to put it down anywhere. Inside of it I had my children’s photos, and a letter that I wrote for him in which I had opened my heart; writing all that Michael meant to me, and giving him all my support for all that he had to endure. He put down the bag on the table and began to leaf through the photos. I told him, “These are my children.”  He replied, “Oh, congratulations, you already are a mother. But they’re such beautiful kids!” I said, “This is Vichi, he’s 3, and he has imitated you since he was only one.” He smiled, saying that Vichi was really a beautiful baby boy.

Then I showed him Tania’s photos, and I said to him that she’s Autistic. He said, “Oh no, I’m sorry! I do know Autism. They live in a world all on their own.”  “Sure,” I replied, “and you are part of her world too. Since she was a newborn baby, she always listened to your music when she breaks down and cries. She needs to listen to your songs to calm her. She does not play any kind of game, so most of the time she usually spends her hours watching your videos. When we were at the hospital, we had to take the video player and all of your VHS tapes with us to make her stay quiet.” He became serious, slowly taking a careful look at Tania’s pictures, visibly touched.

He said nothing at first, and then spoke. “She’s beautiful. Her glance; her smile is wonderful. Can I take her pics?” “Certainly you can,” I replied. “How old is she?” He asked. “She’s five,” I said. “Can she speak?” “No, Michael. Unfortunately I never heard the sound of her voice.”  He said, “No! My God! She‘s so beautiful! Is there something I could do for her? Do you need my help? How can I help you?” I simply thanked him. I could have asked him to let Tania meet him because he often gave hospitality to many disabled children in Neverland, but I did not have the courage to ask. I’m still regretting this decision. I’m sure that Tania would have been so happy there. She loves to see him singing and dancing.

Michael took my hand, and looking into my eyes he said, “Don’t ever lose your faith or your hope, and don’t stop fighting for her. Never! Don’t give up!”  We embraced each other once again, and just as I was crying I said, “Thank you Michael, I love you!” and he answered,   “I love you too; I love you more.” It was such an intense moment; so special that I have real a difficulty telling it. I fear that it may go away somehow.

I always knew that he was a sensitive, kind of person, but at that moment he was sensitive only for me. He was really touched, and he made me feel all his support and all his love. What a wonderful man; so humble and special! (Here, I start crying again) Then he took my letter, and I said, “Michael, please, it’s so important to me that you’ll read my letter.” And he said, “I’ll do it tonight, I promise.”

Unfortunately, it came my time to say goodbye. Wayne was already waiting for me close to the door. I said to that woman, “Please, I have something more to tell him.” I would have told him that I felt so sorry for him; for everything he had to go through because of the charges and the wickedness he suffered. I wanted to say these things to him even if I had already written everything in my letter. I was only able to say, “How are you?” But I’m quite sure he knew what I was referring to. In fact, we looked into each other’s eyes and I felt really in tune with him. He thanked me and he told me he was fine, also thanking us for the gestures of love that he received from us in which he gained more and more strength. I told him, “Please, take care of you, and don’t forget you’ll always have our support; we will always be with you.”  “Ooh, thank you, I love you so much. God bless you,” he said. We said goodbye, and while I was walking to the door I reminded him to read my letter once again. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed the index and the middle finger, and then he placed them to his heart saying, “I swear it.”

I almost crossed the threshold, when I realized that I had forgotten to take the paper bag which had some gifts in it that my friends gave me to give to Michael. I turned back with confidence, took the bag and said, “Oh, I forgot to give Michael these things” Red faced, I went back over to Michael. He looked at me smiling. I threw this enormous bag of gifts into his hands, and instead of telling him that those were my friends’ gifts for him, I said: “These are my friends.” God, how embarrassing. Everyone there was laughing. Michael made fun of me, looking into the bag with his eyes open wide. We all were laughing; it was really a nice moment and Michael was so cute. He asked me to help him hold the bag while he took the items from inside. I don’t know how I contained myself because from that moment on, I can’t recall anything. I don’t remember how we said goodbye. I don’t remember who brought me downstairs. I don’t even remember if the girls who came up with me had left already or if they came down with me. I only know that I found myself sitting and crying on the sidewalk.

Separating myself from him was one of the most difficult moments of my life.

Thirteen years have gone by, and I still have not remembered what happened; my mind completely removed the moments after I left. He dedicated so much of his time to me making me feel loved….me, a perfect stranger! He was really a gift of God!

Thank you Michael, you are really an angel….. You will always live in my heart. I love you!

Stefania Capasso
MJTP Username: stefyMJ
Dot # 14702