Michael Jackson does ‘it’ again
http://tri-statedefenderonline.com/articlelive/articles/3903/1/Michael-Jackson-does-it-again/Page1.html
By Dr. Karanja A. Ajanaku
Published on 07/2/2009
In life – and now in death – Michael Jackson had drawing power. He was a personality magnet with the force to bring culturally disparate people together, if for no longer than the length of a concert or the time it took to play one of his many hits.
Michael Jackson does ‘it’ again
In life – and now in death – Michael Jackson had drawing power. He was a personality magnet with the force to bring culturally disparate people together, if for no longer than the length of a concert or the time it took to play one of his many hits.
I was four-years-old when MJ was born. I turned 15 during that two-week period in 1970 (April 18 to May 2) when the song “ABC” occupied the top slot on the Bill Boards Top 100 list. And I was 29 when I heard the screams of we’re-looking-for-Michael fans echo through the Kansas City, Mo., hotel where I was staying.
It was July 1984 and as comedian and activist Dick Gregory told those of us attending (and in my case reporting on) the NAACP National Convention, “The two most important people in the world happen to be named Jackson and both happen to be black.”
The one Jackson was Jesse Jackson, who was riding the wave of notoriety that accompanied his historic first run for the presidency of the United States. The other, of course, was Michael Jackson, who was kicking off the much-anticipated “Victory Tour” with his brothers in Kansas City.
For the young reporter that I was at the time, it already had been a magical news week. The NAACP’s 75th annual convention was a big-time draw. Walter Mondale, the former vice president and eventual Democratic Party nominee, and Jesse Jackson, who had awakened African Americans to an unprecedented level of presidential possibility, had met right under my nose (and pen.) Gary Hart, Mondale’s strongest challenger, was there beating his political drum.
On Independence Day, Joseph Madison, then the NAACP’s political action director, detailed plans to use the popularity muscle of both Jacksons – Jesse and Michael – to help power the push to register 1 million new African American voters in time to vote in the November election. Madison noted the immense amount of security and red tape that had to be hurdled to secure MJ.
Kansas City is my hometown. And while it burst at the seams in the wake of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, I otherwise remember it as a pretty easygoing place. I remember sensing a stretching of the seams during that first week of July 1984.
The kickoff of “Victory Tour ‘84” was a big deal. Arrowhead Stadium sold out in a heartbeat. Thirty-dollar tickets were going for more than three times that amount. A mail-order ticket process had become the center of a controversy. Fan-o-mania was spreading across the country as more tour stops were announced.
When word got out that Michael Jackson was going to address issues surrounding the concert during a pre-concert press conference at the Westin Crown Center Hotel where I was staying, the place seemed to go crazy. Security, which had been high for presidential candidates, unbelievably ratcheted up to another level.
Young people, many of whom were dressed as Michael Jackson wannabes, jockeyed for position with people of all ages who worked inside the hotel or who had otherwise wormed their way in.
The pressroom was packed. I was sardined at the back. The wait lasted way longer than the conference. Michael and his brothers wore sunglasses and I couldn’t help but think about that line from Parliament’s song: “That’s the rule around here, you gotta wear your sunglasses.”
Michael’s voice was so soft; we could barely hear him at first. The press corps had politics aggressiveness and someone yelled, “Speak up.” MJ seemed a bit startled and turned it up just a notch.
He talked about how much hard work had gone into trying to put on a good tour and lamented that kids who had been saving up for tickets were being shut out by the ticket system, which he said was being junked.
And, he said charity would get the money he made on the tour.
The NAACP convention concluded its weeklong run on the day of the concert. I shifted gears and prepared to be a concert reviewer that evening.
The show started a few minutes before 10 p.m. Michael Jackson appeared as a warrior rescuing an enslaved group from fantasy-like creatures. His brothers joined him thereafter and they broke into “You wanna be startin’ something.’”
My deadline loomed and I kept glancing nervously at my watch. The concert ended with a few minutes to spare. I dictated what I had scribbled as the show unfolded. I came up several lines short and grabbed concertgoers as they exited, getting their comments on the fly.
The front-page headline the next day read, “Orderly entrance gives way to night of Jackson fantasy.”
I was here at the Tri-State Defender coordinating coverage of a big story – the announced resignation of the mayor – as news of Michael Jackson’s death flashed on the television screen. My mind soon flashed back to my ever-so-brief encounter with him during that historic week 25 years ago.
On Saturday, as the world waited for information about the cause of his death and funeral arrangements, I attended a health fair that our newspaper sponsored in the Orange Mound Community. Blanch Thomas, a health care navigator at Methodist Hospital South, had on a T-shirt that honored MJ.
“Michael Jackson was always about bringing to people together; all kinds of people,” Thomas said. “He’s done it again.”
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It was July 1984 and as comedian and activist Dick Gregory told those of us attending (and in my case reporting on) the NAACP National Convention, “The two most important people in the world happen to be named Jackson and both happen to be black.”
The one Jackson was Jesse Jackson, who was riding the wave of notoriety that accompanied his historic first run for the presidency of the United States. The other, of course, was Michael Jackson, who was kicking off the much-anticipated “Victory Tour” with his brothers in Kansas City.
For the young reporter that I was at the time, it already had been a magical news week. The NAACP’s 75th annual convention was a big-time draw. Walter Mondale, the former vice president and eventual Democratic Party nominee, and Jesse Jackson, who had awakened African Americans to an unprecedented level of presidential possibility, had met right under my nose (and pen.) Gary Hart, Mondale’s strongest challenger, was there beating his political drum.
On Independence Day, Joseph Madison, then the NAACP’s political action director, detailed plans to use the popularity muscle of both Jacksons – Jesse and Michael – to help power the push to register 1 million new African American voters in time to vote in the November election. Madison noted the immense amount of security and red tape that had to be hurdled to secure MJ.
Kansas City is my hometown. And while it burst at the seams in the wake of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, I otherwise remember it as a pretty easygoing place. I remember sensing a stretching of the seams during that first week of July 1984.
The kickoff of “Victory Tour ‘84” was a big deal. Arrowhead Stadium sold out in a heartbeat. Thirty-dollar tickets were going for more than three times that amount. A mail-order ticket process had become the center of a controversy. Fan-o-mania was spreading across the country as more tour stops were announced.
When word got out that Michael Jackson was going to address issues surrounding the concert during a pre-concert press conference at the Westin Crown Center Hotel where I was staying, the place seemed to go crazy. Security, which had been high for presidential candidates, unbelievably ratcheted up to another level.
Young people, many of whom were dressed as Michael Jackson wannabes, jockeyed for position with people of all ages who worked inside the hotel or who had otherwise wormed their way in.
The pressroom was packed. I was sardined at the back. The wait lasted way longer than the conference. Michael and his brothers wore sunglasses and I couldn’t help but think about that line from Parliament’s song: “That’s the rule around here, you gotta wear your sunglasses.”
Michael’s voice was so soft; we could barely hear him at first. The press corps had politics aggressiveness and someone yelled, “Speak up.” MJ seemed a bit startled and turned it up just a notch.
He talked about how much hard work had gone into trying to put on a good tour and lamented that kids who had been saving up for tickets were being shut out by the ticket system, which he said was being junked.
And, he said charity would get the money he made on the tour.
The NAACP convention concluded its weeklong run on the day of the concert. I shifted gears and prepared to be a concert reviewer that evening.
The show started a few minutes before 10 p.m. Michael Jackson appeared as a warrior rescuing an enslaved group from fantasy-like creatures. His brothers joined him thereafter and they broke into “You wanna be startin’ something.’”
My deadline loomed and I kept glancing nervously at my watch. The concert ended with a few minutes to spare. I dictated what I had scribbled as the show unfolded. I came up several lines short and grabbed concertgoers as they exited, getting their comments on the fly.
The front-page headline the next day read, “Orderly entrance gives way to night of Jackson fantasy.”
I was here at the Tri-State Defender coordinating coverage of a big story – the announced resignation of the mayor – as news of Michael Jackson’s death flashed on the television screen. My mind soon flashed back to my ever-so-brief encounter with him during that historic week 25 years ago.
On Saturday, as the world waited for information about the cause of his death and funeral arrangements, I attended a health fair that our newspaper sponsored in the Orange Mound Community. Blanch Thomas, a health care navigator at Methodist Hospital South, had on a T-shirt that honored MJ.
“Michael Jackson was always about bringing to people together; all kinds of people,” Thomas said. “He’s done it again.”