Saturday, June 27, 2009
Michael Jackson: Remembering a legend
Roanoke-area fans share what Michael Jackson, their generation's biggest star, meant to them.

Associated Press
Michael Jackson performs during his "30th Anniversary Celebration, The Solo Years" concert at New York''s Madison Square Garden, Friday, Sept. 7, 2001.

Courtesy Cindy Thompson Milligan
Cindy Thompson Milligan and her friend, Gina Spaulding Gravely, were at the Jacksons concert at the Roanoke Civic Center in 1979. They had brought with them a poster of Jackson that Gravely's uncle had made, and they jumped through countless hoops
Michael Jackson, 1958-2009
Your memories
Story
When George Penn learned of Michael Jackson's death Thursday, another pop music superstar -- Elvis Presley -- came immediately to mind.
Not because "King of Pop" Jackson had once been married to Lisa Marie Presley, daughter of "The King of Rock 'n' Roll." But because their lives had ridden such a similar arc -- worldwide superstardom at an early age, followed by decline, personal disgrace and an untimely death.
There was one glaring difference -- the 24/7 infotainment and tabloid news culture was establishing itself as Jackson's fame rose. Its writers and photographers were there en masse to capture every gaffe and legal document in Jackson's increasingly bizarre life.
"It was the coming of age of the media as we know it," Penn said. "You could see everybody's lives either increase or just completely unfold, right there on television. He was one of the first casualties of that."
Penn and other Roanoke-area Jackson fans talked Friday about what their generation's biggest star meant to them.
Roanoke shows
Penn, 40, was 6 years old when his parents took him to see Jackson at the Roanoke Civic Center. Jackson was then part of the Jackson 5, with brothers Jackie, Tito, Jermaine and Marlon. Penn said he can remember bits and pieces of the show, particularly the songs "Dancin' Machine," "I Want You Back" and "ABC."
As the band performed "Never Can Say Goodbye," Penn noticed that "all the little girls was crying around me and stuff," he said, laughing at the memory. "I couldn't sleep for a couple of days. It was exciting, just an exciting thing."
In 1979, Jackson came back to the civic center, again with his brothers. But by that time, Jackson had released his solo album, "Off The Wall," which spawned the top 40 crossover hits "Rock With You" and "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough." His run with his brothers was coming to an end. His solo career was well off the launchpad.
Penn saw that show, too, and remembers vividly what happened once the band, by now called the Jacksons, took the stage.
"It was monstrous," he said. "That's still one of the most incredible shows I've seen. ... It was pandemonium in there."
Jackson sang very soulfully and hungrily, like a man with "something to prove," Penn said.
Cindy Thompson Milligan and her friend, Gina Spaulding Gravely, were at the 1979 show. They had brought with them a poster of Jackson that Gravely's uncle had made, and they jumped through countless hoops to ask Jackson to autograph it -- including leaving the center and sneaking back early the next morning to catch Jackson before he boarded his bus.
That morning, an older black man saw them standing under an umbrella in the rain. He asked what they were doing standing near the bus. Before Milligan had a chance to finish her story, he invited them on board. Turns out, it was the Jacksons' father, Joe. He shared coffee, juice and doughnuts with them while they waited for their idol.
Finally, Michael Jackson was headed for the bus. The girls walked out, and Joe Jackson introduced them to his son.
"We had read enough and knew enough about him to know that he'd probably be shy," Milligan said. "But we truly didn't appreciate" how shy he turned out to be.
The young Jackson, who had terrible acne, barely looked at the girls, Milligan remembered. She thought maybe his acne made him self-conscious. Regardless, the girls were very excited to be living the teen dream of meeting Jackson.
"He was nice and very personable, but at the same time, you could tell that he was just holding back, that he was so shy," she said. But he signed their poster, which Gravely -- who works at Hotel Roanoke -- still has.
Thirty years passed, but Jackson never again played Roanoke.
Pop domination
"Off the Wall" was a radio smash that established the shy young man in middle America's pop culture consciousness. But with his next record, "Thriller," he would become an international ubiquity. And that happened because of music videos.
If Jackson was the most talented performer pop music has seen -- and there's a good case for it -- he was also its luckiest. Jackson, along with producer Quincy Jones, had already established a fresh musical path. But Jackson's videos exposed even more people to his electrifying dance style, not to mention the movie-style plots and effects that revolutionized how music videos were made. The timing was perfect for Jackson and for MTV, the music video pioneer that finally added a black artist to its rotation, thanks to the undeniable power of Jackson's music and image.
"Everything changed after he started doing videos," Roanoke-based bassist Bernard Hairston said. "There were music videos out, but there were none like the ones that he began doing. It changed the way songs are marketed. It just changed everything."
The music and videos captured young listeners like Stephen "Stevie D" Davies, of the Roanoke rap act Illbotz. He was day care age when he first heard "Thriller," and he held a small tape recorder near his family's turntable speaker to record the vinyl album version. He wanted to be able to carry the music around with him, he said. He loved the epic pseudo-horror "Thriller" video, too, and remembers his mother wouldn't let him watch it before bedtime.
The music was "perfect," Davies said.
"You can't deny the catchiness of it," he said. "Just perfect, perfect, pop music."
Jackson's music still makes those connections, Hairston said.
"The thing that amazes me the most is just how many generations of people he has influenced," Hairston said. "It's still surprising to me to see kids that are 12 or 13 react to this news like they grew up with his music. And maybe they did. Maybe their parents played it for them.
"He had no set demographic of people. All ages, creeds and colors liked him and his music."
Saying goodbye
On Thursday night, pop radio station K-92 FM wound up playing nearly six hours of Jackson's songs, back-to-back-to-back.
"We were only going to do 30 minutes, but the response was overwhelming," K-92 night host "Tater" said of the impromptu tribute.
The station's music director, Bob Patrick, inspired the gesture. He said he's a huge fan and was shaken by the news.
"With Michael, he was it," said Patrick, 36, who came of age in the era of "Thriller" and "Bad" and who, at least Thursday, had "Billie Jean" as his ringtone.
As a kid, Patrick said, "I didn't want to dress like Prince. But I went and got that silver glove."
Text messages to the station went from a stream to a river as news spread, and almost all of them were "really loving," Patrick said. "Old, young, black, white. Not a lot of haters."
Patrick said the station normally receives about 50 to 100 texts an hour. On Thursday, it received at least 750, according to Patrick.
Some samples:
"What's up with the disco?"
"It should go on 4 hours."
Some were more descriptive:
"I'm having the worst day," one read. "I burned myself, sprained my wrist, broke a blender, ruined dinner and Michael Jackson died."
"This is their window to him," Patrick explained. "Their way to say 'thanks' or 'I'll miss you.' They can't call up Jermaine or go out to L.A.
"It feels good knowing we can bring back some good memories."
Between Thursday and Friday, area record merchants experienced a huge run on Jackson CDs and DVDs. At f.y.e. on Electric Road in Roanoke County, the store sold out of Jackson products between 6 and 8 p.m. Thursday, store assistant manager Wade Shelton said. Only a few were left at the Valley View Mall f.y.e. early Friday afternoon, cashier Jagger French said. Target was sold out. And the Record Shop, on Williamson Road, was close, the store's Cecil Dunbar said.
That's a good thing, in Penn's estimation. Jackson made a lot of very public mistakes in his life, suffered major financial setbacks and was acquitted in a child molestation case that left many thinking he got away with it. Those issues will continue to be fodder for pop culture conversations and arguments.
But we wouldn't know a thing about him if not for his music.
"The music and the performances are all I really care about," Penn said. "Most of the people that we idolize have peculiar things about them, things that are dark, weird ... I hope people don't just look at that, you know."
Staff writer Neil Harvey contributed to this story.





