After her long battle with cancer, yesterday’s announcement that Farrah Fawcett had died, while said, did not come as a much of a shock.
The same cannot be said, however, for the second celebrity death that overshadowed hers:
Michael Jackson, 50, died yesterday in Los Angeles as sensationally as he lived, as famous as a human being can get. He was a child Motown phenomenon who grew into a moonwalking megastar, the self-anointed King of Pop who sold 750 million records over his career and enjoyed worldwide adoration.
But with that came the world’s relentless curiosity, and Mr. Jackson was eventually regarded as one of show business’s legendary oddities, hopping from one public relations crisis to another.
In the end there were two sides to the record: The tabloid caricature and the provocative, genre-changing musical genius that his fans will always treasure. There were those whose devotion knew no bounds, who visited the gates of his private ranch north of Santa Barbara, Calif., arriving at Neverland on pilgrimages from Europe and Asia, and who were among the first to flock to UCLA Medical Center as news of his death spread yesterday afternoon. Those were the same kind of fans who camped out at the Santa Barbara Superior Courthouse, to show their support during his 2005 trial. They released doves and wept when he was acquitted.
Then there was the other kind of fan, who preferred to keep memories of the singer locked firmly in his 1980s prime: Today’s young adults all have memories of being toddlers and grade-schoolers who moonwalked across their mother’s just mopped kitchen floors. Even the hardest rockers will easily confess to the first album they ever bought: “Thriller.”
“I am just dev-as-tated,” said Bridgette Cooper, 44, of Mitchellville, who was driving her children to math tutoring when her 12-year-old got the news by text. “I don’t ever remember not loving him. I have been a fan forever. Even through the turmoil and the public spectacle, I still loved him and his music.”
Mr. Jackson’s death set off an instant media frenzy befitting the later chapters of his celebrityhood. The singer suffered an apparent heart attack at one of his residences in Bel-Air. Paramedics said Jackson was not breathing when they arrived at 12:26 p.m. Pacific time. The singer was brought to the UCLA Medical Center at 1:14 p.m. PDT and pronounced dead at 2:26 (5:26 Eastern).
Web sites began reporting that the singer had been taken to the hospital. Soon, streets in the Westwood neighborhoods around the hospital were clogged with traffic as crowds of onlookers formed, much as they did wherever the singer had appeared. Soon enough, they were dancing and playing Mr. Jackson’s music, as a helicopter flew away with his body, en route to the coroner. All around the world, from Los Angeles to Adams Morgan to Times Square to Tokyo and beyond, people cued up Mr. Jackson’s songs — some digging out cassettes and LPs.
And on that note, I’ll just present what I’ve always thought was one of Jackson’s finest performances on record, from before Thriller:
Enough said.
I’m still sad that Michael Jackson has died