Friday, June 26th, 2009
The Michael I Loved Summer 1984. I had just finished 6th grade and like most of America, I was swept up in Michael mania. The previous year he had done the moonwalk on the Motown 25th Anniversary TV special--my Dad taped the show and we watched it all the time. When the Thriller video world premiered on Friday Night Videos, I was permitted to stay up late to watch it--even though it didn't come on until 1AM. I remember falling asleep on the couch and my brother shaking me awake so I wouldn't miss it. I was completely enamored with all things Michael Jackson. I had his posters up on my wall, those huge buttons with his face on them, and of course, Thriller on vinyl.

That summer, my Dad and I road tripped to Chicago--just the two of us. He had some business meetings in the city and I tagged along. It was a great trip, except for one thing--the Victory Tour was in full force and their Detroit stop coincided with our adventure. I so badly wanted to see Michael and his brothers, but it just wasn't meant to be. To this day I regret missing that concert...though who knows if I would have even been able to get tickets.

Our drive to Chicago took us through Gary, IN. It was nearing lunch time and we decided to make a stop at a McDonald's off of I-94. As we sat down to eat, I said to my Dad, "I wonder if Michael Jackson ever ate here!" Such a simple statement, but one with a profound result.

That fall my Dad was on a trip to California. His first class seatmate was a writer for Time Magazine, and my Dad, who can talk to anyone, struck up a conversation with this man. When Pops learned this guy had just completed an article on the Jacksons and their record breaking tour (at the time, largest grossing tour in history), he relayed the story of our trip to Chicago and our stop at the Gary McDonalds. Before disembarking the plane, Dad and this man exchanged business cards, and when he returned home, he never mentioned the writer.

Several weeks later a package arrived in the mail, addressed to me. It had been sent to my Dad's office, in my name, in care of him. He brought it home with a smile, and before I opened it, he told me about the conversation he had had on the plane. Thinking back, I wasn't all that impressed...what did it have to do with the package? How did this relate to me, other than him thinking my statement was cute? Finally I tore it open, and inside was a framed, autographed photo of Michael and his brothers, from the Victory Tour. Across the photo, Michael himself had written "To Julie: I did see you at McDonalds! Michael" WOW! I still get chills thinking about it (and today, a little teary as well). This icon, this HUGE celebrity, had taken time to write out a personalized message to me, all because of the chance meeting my Dad had on an airplane to California. The photograph hung on my wall for a couple of years--until Michael was no longer cool and I didn't want to chance my friends coming over and seeing it there. Still, it was something I treasured, and will continue to treasure for a long time to come.

The framed photo is safely tucked away at my parents' house, but you can bet I will find it and bring it home with me the next time we visit. And as we pass through Gary, IN, I'll whisper a prayer that he is safe from the demons that seemed to plague him in his final years.

RIP Michael. Thanks for the memories.