Thursday, July 9, 2009

Gone Too Soon



The public memorial for Michael Jackson was well documented, to say the least. Countless media outlets reported on the service and footage is readily available to you in various forms throughout the internet. Because of this, I am not interested in reporting on the specifics of the service. What I will share in this entry has to do with the emotional impact felt that morning.

Tuesday; July 7, 2009:

Around 9:00 am we entered the Staples Center. As we passed through the doors, we were handed a gold program (viewable on the sidebar of this website). The program was very well put together given the short amount of time allowed to prepare for this service and was an unexpected gift for all of us.

The first thing that struck me as we walked into the Staples Center was that McDonalds was open. People milled around the outside of the arena, eating hamburgers and drinking soda. It felt a little odd. Regardless, Megan was hungry and I desperately needed caffeine, so we purchased a pretzel and sodas. After purchasing our food, we made our way to Section 306 to find our assigned seating in row five.

When we arrived at our seats, it was impossible not to be taken aback. The magnitude of this event became very clear. As I said regarding the memorial programs, it was truly incredible that such an elaborate, even beautiful event was prepared in such a short amount of time. Michael's image and music immediately greeted us as we sat down. In that moment, his death became very, very real to me. It was an odd feeling. In some way, as I gazed upon the stage, I felt like I had lost a loved one. I always understood that I had a deep connection to Michael and his music, but it took sitting down in my assigned seat that morning for me to realize how deep that connection really was.

By 10:00am several announcements were made, informing all in attendance that it was time to be seated. Subtle reminders that we were at a memorial service, not a concert. A few minutes later, a visibly shaken Smokey Robinson opened the service by reading letters sent by Diana Ross and Nelson Mandela. After he finished, there seemed to be a minor confusion coming from the stage. This confusion lasted for roughly ten or fifteen minutes. What followed had an impact that would greatly overshadow any minor error in scheduling.

It had been reported that the Jackson family held a private memorial for Michael earlier in the morning. Because of this, I was under the assumption that we would see flowers, pictures and generally pay tribute to his life on that morning. So, it came as something of a shock when I could see pallbearers carrying a gold casket to the center of the stage. At that moment, I could feel my heart sink along with the thousands of others in attendance. A wave of emotions filled the arena. The audience stood in unison to applaud Michael Jackson, our fallen hero.

A gospel choir opened the morning's service, in a powerful and joyous performance they reminded all in attendance of the morning's purpose which was not to say goodby, but to celebrate. An emotional performance from Mairah Carey immediately followed and gave a more somber tone for the morning's service. Though she seemed shaken, I felt that her performance was amazingly honest and heartfelt. I read later that she had sent a message via Twitter apologizing for her performance. Personally, I feel that she had no reason to apologize. It's easy enough to get emotional listening to I'll Be There on the radio, I can't imagine singing it at Michael Jackson's memorial service in front of his family let alone the thousands in attendance.

The following performances and eulogies often oscillated between the somber and celebritory. More than anything, every word spoken and every note played reminded us that Michael was human. I believe Michael's humanity was something often overlook, particularly in the later years of his life. Many of us got lost in the scandals and the tribulations that often surrounded his name and image in news reports. But, for all the gossip and all the eccentricities of his life, sitting in the Staples Center that morning you could not deny the honesty of his spirit and his heart. For me, his spirit was tragically evident as Jennifer Hudson sang Will You Be There and his voice filled the arena:

In our darkest hour, in my deepest despair, will you still care?
Will you be there?
In my trials and my tribulations, through our doubts and frustrations.
In my violence.
In my turbulence.
Through my fear and confessions.
In my anguish and my pain.
Through my joy and my sorrow.
In the promise of another tomorrow.
I'll never let you part.
For you're always in my heart.

It would be difficult not to be impressed by the sheer volume of work Michael Jackson created, let alone the number of lives he affected. Even harder, would be to exit the arena that morning and not feel that the world had lost someone very special. That is precisely what the service that morning was about. From John Mayer's stunningly respectful take on Human Nature to Jermaine Jackson's achingly beautiful tribute to his fallen brother and even Al Sharpton, simply being Al Sharpton; all present were simply there to express their gratitude to this amazing, inspirational man.

But, for all the masterful performances and all the touching eulogies, one tearful sentence made the reality of this situation painfully clear:

“Ever since I was born, Daddy has been the best father you can ever imagine and I just wanted to say I love him so much.”

Paris Michael Jackson, reminded us all that behind the talent, beneath the scandal there was a father. A father with a daughter and two sons that didn't care what he looked like or how many records he sold. They just wanted to love him and they just wanted him to come back. Perhaps that was a sentiment we all shared that morning...


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