1. Mom and Papa belonged to the Venice Yacht Club. They had a boat in Marina Del Rey. At the end of the finger hosting the slip was a big yacht owned by the Jackson family. I’ve loved Michael’s music since “ABC” and “I Want You Back.” We’d wave and say hello.
2. One Saturday, I was looking for cards, toys, autographs at a small show on Hollywood Boulevard. The old guy from whom I bought my basketball cards, had a table with tsutskes. When I got there, just by coincidence, the dealer was talking to a short, chubby Italian man in a suit and a tall black kid wearing a green doctor’s mask. Weird, but I knew it was Michael. I doubt anyone else did. Even weirder, Michael wanted a little antique Mickey Mouse figurine, but instead of paying, he offered to sign his latest record which the stocky guy was holding. The dealer was not happy, but I said I know who he is from the Marina, and I’d give the dealer $35 for the record, signed for my class. (I probably should’ve offered $10.) The guy in the suit, whom I learned later was Frank DeLeo, his manager, put down an “Off the Wall” dance album, and Michael signed it. They gave me his secretary Candy’s number, said call, took Mickey, and left.
3. I called Candy. She asked if it were possible to have my class write to Michael (at the family house on Hayvenhurst; there was no Neverland, nor any innuendo of anything then). When the school year began in September, my class wrote letters. I wrote a cover asking if he could sign a photo to room 13, with my usual note, if they send a secretarial or reprint, that’s fine, but please just let me know, so I can explain to the kids.
We heard nothing. Coincidentally or unfortunately, we figured Michael was probably preoccupied, because that was precisely when he put out this novel little video. I think it was called “Thriller”. I taped and played a censored version for my kids. I tried to explain that he was a bit busy (leaving out the part that he was now the megastar of THE biggest video in history, and likely busy with everyone in the world.) But they constantly asked if he got our letters, so I called Candy. Of course, no response.
A few days later, at 4:30 p.m., two hours after class and just before the school was closing, our Sunny Brae office manager, Mrs. French, got a phone call asking for my class. The caller said he was Michael Jackson. She hung up on him.
The next day, at 4:30, our secretary, Mrs. Plotkin, got a phone call from a girl named Candy, asking if Michael Jackson could talk to me. She said I had left for the day, but she would take the message, which I still have.
Needless to say, I was distraught. I called Candy. No response. They never called back.
A few weeks later, a big box arrived in the mail addressed to room 13. Michael Jackson had sent 30 posters, personally autographed to each of my students. Having seen him sign, and over the years becoming pretty good at this; these were real. (If any of my kids are reading this, I hope you kept yours.)
4. Phyllis was the senior class adviser at Chatsworth High. She had some famous students and celebrities’ kids. One of her girls was the daughter of the saxophone player who led the band backing Michael Jackson’s first solo tour. The “Bad” tour went from September, 1987 in Asia and Europe through November, 1988 in Los Angeles. Phyl’s young lady student was assigned the west coast shows, to fetch a kid out of the audience to go on stage with Michael for his opening entrance, “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin” And you know Phyllis; that kid was going to be 7 year-old Adam Bennett. Though the kid was supposed to be chosen from the lower seats, Phyllis had the fix locked in, and we got tickets in the front row of the Sports Arena balcony, so no-one could see me taking illegal pictures of Adam on stage, with the fancy plastic camera I was sneaking in.
Then, just before the very, very, very last goddam stop of his 14 month tour, Michael Jackson got sick. The November Los Angeles shows were postponed til after New Years. The girl’s father had a previous commitment overseas. She was replaced. And we went to the concert and watched some other little fucker go on stage with Michael. That was our last “encounter”.