The beautiful little girl with pigtails jumped from her mother’s arms with glee and ran to the door of Holly Terrace, eagerly peering through the crack. Just at the end of the long corridor, if you looked just right, you could see a noble, marble crypt. The sun was hitting the Ascension stained glass window and the entire scene was filled with glorious light. Many, many more bright and glowing sunflowers adorned this kings resting place. A beautiful breath taking sight and outside was a veritable forest of sunflowers lined up by the doors to the Kings resting place.
Suddenly she turned to look at her mother with a shocked and stricken look on her face shrieked, “I can’t see him! I can’t see him! He isn’t there, Mommy!! I want to see him!!
Why can’t I see him? Where did he go mommy?”
She began to sob, uncontrollable, inconsolable, heartbroken sobs.
She ran back to her mother’s comforting and safe arms and held on tight and just cried.
The adults all stood there unable to breath, unable to speak, grappling for the words
to try to console and explain… yet there were none.
Yes this little angelic baby she said it all.
We can’t see him, our King, we can’t see him.
Why did he have to go? Our hearts are broken still.
Suddenly a grown up notices and points to a discovery, back inside the sunflower forest just resting at the base of the sunflowers is a tiny angel someone has left for Michael, our King. It rests and sleeps guarding the King’s door. The child is consoled at last and content to wander in the sunflower forest but continually, apprehensively looking toward the door where her King can not be seen.
How do you explain death to a child?
Her mother says “She doesn’t understand. She LOVES Michael Jackson and
she sees him sing and dance on TV. She can’t understand why she can’t see him now.”
We the adults grasp at answers as well and can only nod our heads. Yes how do you explain the death of Michael Jackson? Unfathomable.
Forever in our hearts.
How strange that all these tears could not wash away the hurt!
Then one thought of love pierced my bitterness. I remembered you in the sunlight, with a smile as sweet as May wine. A tear of gratitude started to fall, and miraculously, you were back. Soft fingers touched my check, and you bent over for a kiss.
“Why have you come?” I whispered.
“To wipe away your last tear,” you replied. “It was the one you saved for me.”
Excerpt from The Last Tear by Michael Jackson, from his book “Dancing The Dream”
There I sat at the doctor's office waiting my turn. Nothing major being done but still a bit unnerving. I had prayed and asked friends to pray for me ultimately always turning to my God, the Lord Jesus Christ for protection and covering in all things. I was at peace and knew I'd be fine but still there was that nagging anxiousness. I picked up a random magazine as they asked me to walk to the back to prepare me for surgery. They mentioned there would be a wait and I might like to read something. I flipped through the pages at first not interested really but thinking more of what lay ahead for me. I have been blessed with good health. As always in every doctor's office time seemed endless as I waited. I began thinking about anything and everything else and of course as always my mind ran to Michael Jackson, his life, his legacy, his music, how he changed the world with his love. Then once again back to my certain reality where I sat waiting. I began passively, off and on, reading each article of the magazine in my lap to fill the time. I looked up at the clock over head and 2 hours had passed and I was still patiently waiting. I returned to my magazine flipped the page and there was an article "Adopting at 55", I immediately thought "How brave this lady is" and began reading. I was enthralled by this woman's spirit. It seemed so familiar. Yet I was just thinking about Michael Jackson and the love he shared with the world.
Then all anxiousness was gone. Instead a feeling of complete reassurance filled me as God through Michael Jackson shared yet another lesson of love. I smiled as I felt once again Michael's global love touch my heart as I read the words:
"When we met, my future daughters spoke only a few words of English, and I spoke almost nothing of their language, Amharic. So I opened the iTunes folder on my laptop, and though I’d brought African music to play, it turned out what they loved best was Michael Jackson. Then we started dancing.
I learned it’s not that complicated, spending five days in the company of children with whom your common vocabulary is perhaps five words, if what those children need is to be held and loved. For five days we danced, drew pictures, kicked around a soccer ball, sang songs. We played with the babies. The girls braided my hair, unbraided it, braided it again. But they were also happy to do nothing more than sit on my lap, so long as my arms were wrapped around them. Never, in all those five days I was with them, did they fight with each other or cry or complain, until the night before I left. We slept in one small single bed together that night. In the morning when I had to go home without them, Birtukan flung herself on the ground and cried so violently, her whole body shook. When I held her one last time before leaving, to say good-bye, I could feel her heart racing and her whole body trembling."
Michael Jackson has touched places on this earth and reached people on this earth that no other human has been able to touch or reach. He continues even now after his passing to globally share his legacy of love with all mankind, every nation and every creed. I read this article and no longer had an anxious thought about what lay ahead for me. God has a plan for all of us. For some it is bigger as it was for Michael. Chosen from the womb to reach the world with his love, music and creative genius. For others it is small but no less important. I love the words of Martin Luther King Jr. as shared by his son at Michael Jackson's Memorial, "That in life one must discover what their calling is, and when they do, they must do their jobs so well that the living, the dead, and the unborn could do them no better." He constantly challenged us to become our best by stating, "That if you can not be pine on the top of the hill, why just be a shrub in the valley? But be the best little shrub on the side of the road. Be a bush if you can not be a tree. If you can not be the highway then be a trail. If you can not be the sun, just be a star. For it isn't by size that you win or you fail. You've got to be the best of what you are." Michael Jackson was truly the best of what he was. Finally Martin Luther King Jr. said "That in life if it falls ever your lot to be a street sweeper you must sweep streets so well, in fact you must sweep streets like Beethoven composed music. Sweep streets like Shakespeare wrote poetry. Sweep streets like Raphael painted pictures. Sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth would have to pause and say "Here lived a great street sweeper that did his job well."
Each of us has a calling. A calling an assignment from God. Michael's calling was huge, globally huge yet he walked in humility and grace. He endured so much persecution and pain in his life, yet continued to reach out and love others. Reading about the language of love Michael Jackson's music enabled this adopting mother and these Ethiopian girls to share, I recalled the story of the time Michael sat with his mother crying about the starving and dying children in Africa. Michael made a promise to his mother that one day he would do something about that.
Oh!! How he did! He fed the hungry, provided medical care all over the world, to more than we will ever know. As I read this article I see his inspiration around the world still spreading over a year after his death, and know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Michael Jackson's love of children, Africa, the hurting and needy still lives on. It lives on in those he has inspired. It lives on in his children as Prince, God bless him, continues to carry on his father's legacy as he works in a warehouse filling boxes of food for "Children's Hunger Fund", fulfilling his promise he made at the Grammys when he said, "Through all his songs his message was simple,"LOVE". We will continue to spread his message and help the world."
As my very dear friend, Bonnie, from MJ-Upbeat, states "LOVE has the FINAL Word"
Copy and paste links. Sorry they are not embedded.
You can read the entire article in MORE magazine September issue: Adopting at 55 by Joyce Maynard
http://www.more.com/2051/24763-adopting-at-55
If you feel you would like to help out Prince Jackson and also follow in Michael's Legacy of Love and donate to the Children's Hunger Fund please go to this link:
“Off the Wall” is a tiny shop on Melrose in Hollywood, California. I love vintage items and very much wanted to see where Michael Jackson shopped. It was rumored it was his favorite place to shop for vintage items and that he had named his album “Off the Wall” because he liked the name so much. As I walked into the store I immediately was taken by the beautiful, unusual and intriguing pieces surrounding me.
A friendly man behind the counter sitting at a computer greeted me and asked me if I was looking for anything in particular and having seen a few of the price tags I hesitantly told him, “Well, actually I am here to see where Michael Jackson shopped.” He smiled and pointed to three items on a shelf in the corner and said, “He purchased these three items just weeks before his death. He had been eyeing them for some time and finally had decided he wanted them on his last trip in. We were waiting for his manager to finish processing the payment when we learned he had passed away. That is how we do business. Most of the famous people who shop here will come in and point out something they like and then have the manager pay later.” Pointing again at the items on the shelf he said, “We now have them on display.” He explained they were wax forms used in medical school some where back east in the 1900s when cadavers were not available. I turned back to the shelf the body parts were simply fascinating to look at. The detail was incredible.
I looked closely at them and totally got why MJ purchased them. Many people labeled it as ‘weird’ but I felt I completely understood how they would aid with home schooling, having home schooled my own children for several years; I was always looking for teaching aids.
I had read that MJ was always buying books and educational items for his children. If the children asked a question he would stop and say “Let’s find out the answer.” He would then go to his library and retrieve a book to give them the correct answer to their question, and if it wasn’t there he would look for it somewhere else. I studied the muscles and layers of skin and exposed bones and turned to the nice man behind the counter and excitedly said, “I totally get why he would want these!” He gave me a puzzled, bewildered look and said, “He just liked to buy unusual and weird stuff.” I smiled but felt I knew.
I slowly browsed through the store seeing many wonderful items which I would have loved to purchase myself. I was drawn to the back right corner opposite the corner which held Michael’s last medical school purchase. There was a small glass curio sitting snuggly in the corner and nesting on the top shelf were some amazing rare, vintage Disney items. I was just thinking that Michael may have seen these very items when Dennis, the owner of Off the Wall, approached and readily began talking about Michael saying over my shoulder, “Michael loved all things Disney. He was always intrigued by anything Disney we had in the store. We helped him furnish Neverland and made many trips out to Neverland with our truck delivering the items he purchased.” Later at home when I checked out a website Dennis had mentioned I realized at first with a sense of excitement and then deep loss that that same day I had stood in the very spot where Michael had been.
As I continued to look about the store I was delighted to have Dennis walk next to me and relate stories about Michael’s visits to the store. He smiled and said, “He first started coming here with his sister Janet when they were young, when Janet was in the show Good Times. Do you remember that TV show?” I smiled and said, “Yes, I sure do. She was so cute.” A look of fond memories came over his face as he continued, “Well they both would come in and shop. She would film right down the street and they would come in after she was done working or on her breaks. Sometimes Michael would drop by himself while he waited for her to finish.” Dennis continued, “He came here for years. Those were the less hectic times. Later he couldn’t go anywhere with out security and a crowd gathering around him.” Motioning to the entrance door and shaking his head from side to side he said “We would always know when he was here because there would suddenly be a huge crowd outside, just cameras, body guards, people everywhere in a swarm at the door and outside. It was sad. He just wanted to shop. He loved to shop but he couldn’t go anywhere with out a crowd.”
It is a tiny shop, maybe 20 feet by 30 feet, with the front door facing west and the warm afternoon sun filtered through the door and across the shop like a spot light, gently lighting up several beautiful vintage items. As he spoke I pictured the large crowd which inevitably swarmed around Michael loudly milling, clicking picture after picture, pushing and crowding the front door, chocking out the warm afternoon sun. I suddenly felt great pain for Michael. I could feel the tremendous love and admiration so many felt for Michael but looming larger I felt that frenzied, life squelching, paparazzi madness that followed Michael everywhere shutting out the light in his life.
Dennis continued to talk about the crowds, “It was unbelievable. I’ve never seen anyone else ever be treated that way.” I commented, “He was so dynamic. He had a magnetism that just drew people to him.” Dennis responded with a puzzled look, as if I just didn’t understand, shaking his head from side to side, “I have had many famous people in my shop and no one was ever treated the way Michael Jackson was.” Curious I queried, “Really who are some of the other famous people who have shopped here?” I have to confess he relayed names but for some reason my mind was so wrapped around the thought of Michael Jackson I don’t remember who he mentioned and there were several. However I do remember Dennis seemed visibly upset as he talked. I was able to focus on what he was saying again and heard him say at the end of his list “The Beatles. Even the Beatles never got the kind of attention he got. Both Ringo and George Harrison have shopped here at different times. George Harrison would drop in to shop here when he was in the states. You know someone would say “Hey, there’s George Harrison!” He was big star too and the response would be “Wow!” but they’d leave him alone… but with Michael people were everywhere.” He again shook his head sadly.
I was very intrigued and asked, “You saw him many times? You talked with him. What was it like to talk to him?” Dennis replied, “He was hard to sell things to. He always wanted a deal.” I laughed and said, “Well even stars like to work a deal.” He said, “Yes, he sure liked a deal. He never paid ticket price. It was hard to keep his attention. He would drift off and start looking at other things in the middle of a sale. He would loose interest and just walk away. He was quiet. He was shy so he didn’t really talk much. He was interested in looking around. He loved to shop.” I smiled to myself because I totally related. I do the very same thing when I am shopping especially for vintage items and antiques. I loose myself in those stores. You can feel the character and history in so many pieces and you just get pulled in. It’s a great escape.
Feeling sort of like a dweeb I shyly asked Dennis if I could take his picture. He very amiably agreed and plopped down on a very cool, cow hide bar stool from what looked to be the 50’s era and I snapped his picture. I continued to look around and asked him about a few of the beautiful pieces in the store. There was a 20’s era glass beaded purse that caught my eye and a gorgeous, round, bubbled glass table top which had been turned on its side. The light flowing through the door played with the glass and made it glow. He told me it was handmade and they had custom made the stand to show it off as an art piece. I then asked him about the name Off the Wall saying, “I heard Michael liked the name of your store so much he named his album Off the Wall too.” He gave me a wry smile and said, “Oh yeah, we asked him about that for years but he never would admit it. We’d go back and forth about it but he never would. Then a few years back he finally admitted that he liked our name and used it on his album.”
Dennis then slowly meandered out the front door with me and continued talking about Michael. As we left the front door he turned back toward the shop and pointed to an article taped in the window facing out to the street. There was a picture of Michael; it was the cover of Rolling Stone Magazine and a portion of the article referring to Off the Wall as Michael’s favorite antique shop, “He said you can read about us in the Rolling Stone article.” A reporter had come out to the store not long after Michael’s death and interviewed him. He pointed at it and also told me to check out You Tube saying, “On one of Michael’s last visits to the store the Channel 11 news crew did a news clip.”
I noticed Dennis now looked pensive and clearly wanted to make sure he finished our conversation by telling me about Michael’s beautiful children who had accompanied Michael on more than one occasion to the shop. He expressed with great admiration, “His children were just wonderful. They would come in to shop with him often. Very bright, asked a lot of questions and were very respectful, very intelligent children. He did a beautiful job raising them. You can tell what a child is like when you are in a living room setting and that was what it was like with them in the shop.” Nodding his head up and down saying a thoughtful and definitive, “Yes. Good children.” I thought about the paparazzi again and said, “Well hopefully they will be left alone and will not have to go through what their dad experienced.” Dennis responded, “Unfortunately they are in a fish bowl. It is really too bad. They are beautiful children. Very well raised, very considerate.” My heart sank as I sent up a silent prayer asking the Lord to protect each of them.
Dennis then detailed the story of Michael’s last purchase for me, “You know he bought the body parts just a few weeks before he passed away. He would just point out something and say he wanted to buy it and then leave. It would be delivered later. He had his eye on the body parts. He had been in several times and this time made up his mind to buy them. You know, they are real wax teaching tools from a 1900’s medical school. If they couldn’t get their hands on a cadaver they could learn from the wax body parts.”
Then he motioned and pointed from the door to the street where Michael’s assistant walked out of the shop one day with a purchase saying, “One time he was in and bought a big, shiny, silver airplane and his body guard carried it out to the car.” I asked him if it was for his children, and he shrugged and said “I don’t know why he bought it. He just liked it. It caught his eye. He would just buy different and unusual things. We helped stock Neverland with many, many items over the years. He would shop and then we would drive out and deliver them to him there.”
I thanked him for his time feeling in my own way a small sense of closeness to the King of Pop. A deep sadness filled my heart as I pulled out of the Off the Wall drive-way on to Melrose to make my drive home. I turned my music up loud and listened to Michael Jackson’s beautiful voice with the perfect pitch and incredible range. His gorgeous smile, kind eyes and his electrified dancing image moved across my mind. His deep love of art, history and beauty shared and indelibly etched yet deeper into my heart.
www.offthewallantiques.com
The Rolling Stone Magazine article which mentions Off the Wall antique shop can found in Issue 1084, page 50.
Michael and Blanket on a different shopping trip to Off The Wall
It has been two weeks to the day since I have dropped off my treasured picture of Michael for framing. I have been waiting impatiently. I have been looking so forward to retracing my steps back to Los Olivos and Neverland and this time I have two friends joining me.I have warned them in advance to expect a long night. Since Michael’s death my sleep patterns have changed. It is over a year since Michael’s death and the shocking loss has so affected me that I still have many late sleepless nights which lead to early morning sunrise bedtimes. Anyone who knows me knows that this is not like me at all. As a result of this body clock change I recently experienced some strange irony when my oldest daughter chastised me like a misbehaving teenager. I had just relayed my experience of being out and about in Beverly Hills until the wee hours and the fact that I had forgotten to take along my sweater which resulted in a miserable, unwanted sinus infection. My daughter, who is an amazing mother and has a passel of children, laughingly reversed the roles with a sharp retort of “Well… what I can’t believe, Missy, is that you were out running around until all hours of the night AND… without a sweater to boot!! What were you thinking?!” I found myself mind boggled and speechless for an answer and we both dissolved into laughter instead.
Beyond retrieving my treasure from the gallery, my goal this journey is to reach for the stars. This too is going to be a late night, as I have plans to behold the same late night sky, to gaze upon the same stars above Neverland that Michael once gazed upon. The property has changed, and although the countryside is still beautiful there are now only distant memories and echoes of the past joy, wonder and magic that Michael Jackson brought to Neverland. However the night sky… that beautiful quilt of moon and stars above will forever remain the same. Each personally and purposefully placed in the sky just above Neverland by our Creator just for our forever shining star, Michael Jackson. The Bible speaks of a time and place for everything and these stars, will in my mind, forever be placed in this sky, for all seasons, just above Neverland expressly to honor Michael Jackson for all eternity. Now I plan to peer into this late night sky … to lay back and look up and see first hand what Michael’s beautiful eyes beheld as he too felt the presence of God’s eternity.
Many MJ fans know that Michael clearly loved the night, loved the moon. I now think of sunset and the moon and remember Michael’s beautiful, innocent expression as wonder and creativity filled his being many years ago in an interview filmed at Hayvenhurst. MJ opens the tower shutters of his room and with one of those beautiful, glowing smiles only he could give says, “Hello, I’ll be right down.” Upon arrival he says while motioning toward the sky, “It’s dusk…the moon is out…this is the most beautiful part of the day. I can see some of the stars coming out. It’s very beautiful, everything comes to life. The fire flies are in the trees and every thing is becoming magic, I would say it is my favorite part of the day…dawn and dusk. It has a certain magic about it. Everything that preys upon the night starts to come out…be it the creatures or the birds. I like dawn also. Some psychologists say that dusk, for a lot of creative people… you reach your alpha state and you become more creative at certain parts of the day…but for me it could be anytime. I just like creating. It’s no special time…. but this (dusk) is very magical to me. It’s like a painting…it’s very artistic. It’s Magic.”
This is my Saturday off and I relish a chance to catch up on lost sleep. I am afforded a few extra luxurious, delicious hours of refreshing sleep which I will need given the late night planned. I have determined I will have a relaxing day… but I am anxious…Los Olivos is calling me. I am very excited to say the least, to see my beautiful art piece safely housed in its new frame. I meet up with my friends at our rendezvous spot, exchange hugs and niceties… but this ride has got to roll. I want to be on the road now. We all quickly pile on board and we begin our Magical Journey.
The drive through the little neighboring valley is like a comfortable pair of jeans for me. The familiar marine layer has settled in like an old friend over the orange groves. It hugs everything, it moves, you can feel it on your face, the moisture nourishes life and without fail the sun inevitably will break through the haze as it climbs high in the sky and life will burst forth. This ‘June Gloom’ as it is called never fails to give me the comfy feeling of curling up with a good book on a rainy day accompanied by the expectancy of a bright new day. How ironic that I look forward to June Gloom because it is the ultimate message of HOPE & FAITH to me. God always carries us through the dark times. He is our bright and shining light to guide us and He, although we may not see Him or feel Him, is ALWAYS there turning the seemingly bad into ‘beauty for ashes’. The Lord never fails to take what was meant for evil and turn it into His highest good. This is what June Gloom reminds me of. Looking back on the history of my life and all I have weathered clearly reveals that God never fails and always shines his light on those who love Him and Oh how I love the Lord! The most blessed I have been in my life were the times when I walked through the dark times but believed God was always there somewhere, somehow, carrying me, guiding me. Times when Faith was tangible and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt one day, no matter what the present circumstances, that the Lord’s love would shine brighter than all else. The Lord has NEVER failed me. I pray now that the LORD will intervene for Michael and bring justice. It occurs to me that only God can achieve this for Michael and He alone sees all things, knows all things. Nothing simply Nothing and no one escapes His roving eye. I thank God at this moment that Michael is safe in heaven with him, in His loving arms where no one can hurt him ever again. Michael there with the Lord for eternity, in his ultimate forever BLISS that he strived to find and live here on earth.
It is a glorious day in this valley; it is truly filled with the Lord’s beauty. I wonder what the day will hold. This lush valley we are traveling through is filled with many roadside fruit stands and nurseries. I make a mental note to visit here very soon when I have time to stop… and mention this to my friends. They have no idea why I am mentioning the nurseries as we fly through the small town which leads us out to the Pacific coastline. I want to surprise them today. I have promised them Magic and plan on delivering… but for now my mission is an appointment in Los Olivos. Ralph has called and said the picture is ready and he will be expecting me around noon.
Conversation flows freely as always in the car, while Michael’s music plays loudly; we talk and laugh about everything. It amazes me how close we have become in such a short time. As we talk about Michael Jackson, the Lord, family, work, past events and future plans I wonder to myself if I will be able to truly surprise them.
Now the Pacific Ocean comes into view on our left and it is just breathtaking no matter how many times I have seen it. I am a California girl and always make a point of taking a long look just to drink in the overwhelming vastness and beauty of the Pacific. To gain perspective on how really unimportant I am in the big picture of life… yet knowing God has His eye and His hand on me always, that I am LOVED and important to Him. I see the waves break on the sand and I wonder what sea life might be close by. Recalling days not in the too distant past when I walked the shore not far from here searching for sea urchins, sea shells and star fish as seagulls flew over head. I remember once there were even dolphins jumping high just off shore. The same familiar campers still line the beach in this prime beach goer’s spot that stretches along the way but on this trip the fun conversation pulls me out of my own thoughts and into the drive at hand.
Once again just as we turn inland the suns warm noon day rays burn through the haze and brighten the landscape. I am delighted as I wonder “Is God just doing this for me?” He knows my heart. He knows how much I love the break through of the sun from the early morning haze. I smile openly and decide YES! I will take my golden nugget and consider it a gift from the Lord, for it is the small things in life that bring the greatest blessing and joy for me. Now the lush green foliage and trees appear along the way and the same yellow sunflowers scattered across rolling hills are reaching their faces toward the blue sky and summer sun as the road begins to wind up the mountain and over into the Santa Ynez Valley. This is my third trip along this road and to me it is more beautiful each time. We steadily move along and the spectacular view at the crest of the hill reveals Cachuma Lake lying below us, stretching its wide fingers. Those watery fingers seem to reach forever and point the way toward Neverland.
Conversation and Michael’s music have comfortably ebbed and flowed throughout the journey… we are getting close now to Michael’s valley. It becomes quiet and we remark and wonder out loud about articles written and places MJ visited all over the world and how he always returned here to this California paradise. I become quiet and think about him in his own magical Neverland where he could just be himself. If only the world, the media, the greedy, the jealous, the opportunists had just left him alone… would he still be here? Yes I believe he would. My heart is heavy… I sigh…If only we could turn back time.
We are excitedly chit chatting as I turn left into Los Olivos. It is a VERY busy day here. There are many limos and travel buses which have brought the wine tasting tours into town from Santa Barbara. This time there is no easy parking spot available. We slowly search out a parking spot a block over from the art store but soon realize that a great parking place is now vacant directly in front of the town park where we like to picnic. My friends stake out the spot and I quickly retrieve the car to claim it. I just love this little park, the smells, sounds and sights of the town surround you here. To my disappointment there are no violinists here today; however we are all anxious to get to my appointment anyway. We eat quickly and then walk to the gallery. Ralph is waiting and greets us as we enter. I feel like a small child. I am so excited to see my special picture of Michael. To see how all the colors now compliment each other and I am definitely not disappointed. The porcelain mat Ralph recommended enhances Michael’s face bringing it to the fore front and the result is truly beautiful, just breathtaking. I am speechless. I am so incredibly honored to own a piece of Max Popov’s art. This is a gift I will treasure forever. To Ralph’s dismay and genuine wonder at how MJ fans have the ability to pull a camera out of no where the ladies take several pictures of me holding my precious art work while standing in the very spot Michael stood when he visited the shop many years ago. We stay for a while and chit-chat with Ralph. He is fun to talk to and happy to oblige, and entertains us by showing us his shop and other art work, but from my perspective it all pales in comparison to the piece I now have in my possession. I am thinking to myself as I have since the day I received it “Where will I hang Michael’s picture?” Still no firm decisions… I laugh to myself and wonder if I should share the thought out loud that Michael’s picture may just have to follow me around the house. A special spot in each room I spend time in. Hmmmmm…
We say our goodbyes to Ralph and head on out to enjoy the town. Now it is time… time for my surprise. Suddenly my chatty friends become quiet. I park just down from J. Woeste. They have no idea where we are and I tell them “Ok THIS is the surprise. This is the Magic.” We approach the gate and the giant chimes gently greet us. Yes my friends are silent… drinking in every sight, every sound. I ask them after we have entered in and they have been able to take it in, “Well is this a Magical Surprise?” I am thrilled to see the looks on their faces as they turn with complete awe and surprise and remark “YES Betty! You surprised us! This IS Magical!” We begin to explore what seemed to be every nook and cranny of the entire nursery. I discovered this day that this is an ever evolving place. Always growing, changing, rearranging. Michael’s hands are gone apparently purchased but there are many other beautiful items here which evoke Michael. Although in only two weeks time many things have changed, I realize too just like as in my life, since Michael’s death, reminders of MJ are simply everywhere. We stay close together as we move slowly along, sharing and drinking in each moment. The life of this magical land is pulling us in further with each step as together we smile, laugh and share each new revelation of MJ on this journey. At times we are speechless and just point. We wonder how this can be? This is not a place that openly honors MJ yet there are remembrances of him simply everywhere. I feel once again as if I have left earth and entered another mystical and magical world. Now the thought that the next time and all recurring times I visit here it will always be different, is now very appealing and alluring. We loose all track of time for in this world there is no time, only beauty. I am beyond pleased that I am able to surprise my friends with this treasured experience. I want the sights, sounds and smells to remain in my memory bank for ever. I want to always be able to call on them for refreshing.
We turn to read some enchanting rusted garden signs hung on the wooden fence and all stop at the same moment in amazement to read the words ‘Love You More’. There are sunflowers and butterflies scattered everywhere. Once again in the far corner there is the chicken coup with the happiest chickens on earth clucking away and above them the words ‘You Are My Sunshine’. I hear my friend exclaim in delight, “DOVES!” We all run to the back of the chicken coup and there they are… the Doves, cooing away. A few pose obligingly for pictures. Another dove hides his head each time I snap a picture and pops it back up to look at me as if to say “Paparazzi, get away from me!”
We continue on and find magical scenery everywhere. We drink in every moment not wanting it to end and investigate every possible spot, suddenly I am amazed to find a collection of little white doves placed in special arrangements and very affordable. We decide these will be the perfect purchase to commemorate our day here.
Next we find Ben, nuzzled into a cozy pot of moss. Another beautiful miniature landscape creation evokes a memory of the house Michael and his children lived in while in Ireland. Reluctantly after combing every corner we decide it is time to go, as we enter the charming old home this magic land revolves around to pay for our special selections we are delighted at the sight of a very colorful, display of cascading glass containers filled to over flowing with Tootsie Roll Pops.
Yes at every turn there is a whisper, a reminder of MJ. It is now time to leave for the next leg of the journey and we all seem to ‘sigh’ a collective ‘Farewell for now’ to this magical land. We secure our purchases along with my treasured art piece… our booty is growing.
Dinner time is approaching and several options are discussed but we all agree we must go to Solvang which is just one town over nestled in a neighboring valley. Solvang is a glorious Danish town with wonderful windmills and beautiful shops. I have been told about the delicious apple skivers with raspberry sauce served there and want to sample them. We wind our way through the valley and never before seen landscape and find that once again we are lost. Anyone who has ever driven any where with me knows this is normal. No one panics, especially me. I have found some very interesting and intriguing spots when lost. It has become a rule of thumb that you can not take a road trip with me unless we make at least three u-turns in search of the primary objective. This is simply beautiful, rich, lush, green countryside filled with sprawling horse ranches, large green meadows, long, winding picket fences and wine vineyards one right after the other. We discover a large barn in an open pasture where it looks as if a huge wine tasting session or gathering of some sort is being held. The crowd of cars and glow of twinkling lights decorating the large rustic building is very inviting but we have a plan and must find our way.
Solvang is just right down the road as it turns out… this is a delightful tourist trap with quant Danish restaurants, specialty, book and antique stores. Although still very back country the sights and sounds are so different here. It is a small town but there are many more tourists and more traffic here than in Los Olivos. This is not my first trip to Solvang and I remember my favorite candy store on the corner, the Fudge Shop. We visit several shops and right across from a collection of amazing Peter Pan snow globes I find a great necklace to memorialize the visit here. A little crown with many colored stones, Michael’s favorite colors, red, gold, blue. It is topped with a little cross and little charms hang from the bottom, a key, a heart and a tear drop… yes this is my Michael necklace. I purchase it and add it to the booty of the day.
Dinner is next on the agenda and is served up for us at a tiny café with a bounty of large Danish meatballs, a mound of mashed potatoes and gravy along with purple pickled cabbage, then of course apple skivers for desert. After dinner we move on down the walk way. At the Fudge Shop we were told Michael used to come and walk the streets and enjoy the sights so we too walk the streets to see the sights he saw. This is a town that rolls up the welcome mat early in the evening. Dusk is upon us and quickly doors are closing. Although it is a town that retires early there are beautiful white lights decorating the trees and the town takes on a completely different look and feel as they begin to glow. Suddenly the streets are mostly empty as tourists have made their way home, but there is one town tavern that is just getting started to entertain a small night crowd and the sounds of the music and singing from a local band spill out into the street. Although the majority of shops are now ready to go home for the night I am happy there are at least a few places still open so we can roam and shop since I am trying to stretch out our time until full night fall. This is a happy town with friendly people. They love the tourist here and encourage interaction. A great weekend vacation spot and I vow to return soon.
Now we head on back to Neverland driving through the night. Everything looks different at night and there is a blue moon glow on the landscape. In contrast to the neighboring valley with its horse ranches and bountiful wine vineyards the road that leads to Neverland is filled with cattle ranches. We discover the multitude of cows that are not visible during the hot summer days are now plentiful in the pastures as they graze the brown brush in the cool night air. There are seemingly hundreds of them. They stand in bunches everywhere as we drive by. Some very close to the road look out at us as if to say “Welcome back to Neverland”. I am reminded of a recent video of Michael in one of his many ludicrous depositions he was put through by people looking for a hand out, saying he obtained spending money from the cows and called it “Cow Grazing Money”. He looked like he really loved saying that. It baffled the lawyer. I smile a big smile as I share this with my friends and wonder out loud if any of them are the same cows Michael allowed to feast on his land, or maybe their off spring? The sun has set hours ago and the stars are out as we arrive and ease our way off the road at the gates of Neverland. The only people present are the guards as I park the car along the side of the road just under one of the two mighty Oaks that have stood as centurions here for at least a century. I wonder now if they miss their friend, Michael. A Sycamore Valley Ranch guard ambles into his large, black, security truck and begins making his rounds along the perimiter of the property with his search light beaming. The blinding light lands on our vehicle for a moment and then moves on satisfied we are not there to make trouble. We are finally here... the ultimate goal of the trip… Neverland… but for some unexplainable reason we stay in our car for quite along time… quiet…contemplative… listening to Michael sing… talking quietly. It seems as though hours pass, but it could only be moments, there is no real concept of time anymore… then finally we get out of the car to explore. I leave the doors open and Michael’s voice from the Invincible CD follows us. We walk the road listening as Michael’s voice grows fainter the farther away we go. We listen to the sounds of the night in this open country. It feels different now. We watch shadows moving in the hills and huddle together at some moments when a coyote’s howl is heard. The birds screech and there are sounds of rustling in the brush. The animals of the night are roaming close by. There is a full bright crystal moon tonight like no other I have seen in my life. Although we walk down the road away from the lamps in the Neverland driveway it is still very bright. No need for flash lights this night. We want to see the stars but this big beautiful moon has other plans for us. We locate Venus and if we turn our backs to the moon we can see other star formations. This gorgeous summer moon has not disappointed us and is simply amazing but makes it difficult to see the stars in the moon’s bright glow, so after many hours of gazing the consensus is we must check the calendar for the next crescent moon and return with the hope that maybe we may even see Michael perched there. We walk back and visit the Neverland gate, walk back up the road in the other direction. The moons glow follows us… we return to the car… it is parked on a slant which enables me to lean back on it fully, look up into the night sky and relax into the music. Feeling as though I fulfilled my goal to gaze up into the same night sky that Michael once saw, imagining him here once upon a time, happy and blessed beyond measure. I hold those memories in my heart. I listen to Michael’s perfect pitch and beautiful voice serenade us. I now have my very special art piece in hand, and a most special moment in time where I feel as though I was able to share in some very tiny way Michael’s God ordained view of Neverland’s stars. You are my day... you are my night... like the stars in the night... I LOVE you... The Magical Journey complete.
Eskimo legend:
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"Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pour through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy" shared by my good friend, Corona. *United Fans of Michael Jackson *
This was a beautiful summer day. A marine layer lay comfortably over the green valley, spotted with orchards, orange groves and avocado trees. It is a very familiar sight to me as I have driven this road many times in my life yet it never fails to impress. I am on a journey. I am going to borrow a phrase here from a good friend, as Charleen coined, I am on a Magical Journey, to reach Neverland.
I love and delight in ‘June Gloom’ as it is called here in Southern California. This is a wonderful occurrence that happens every year, during early summer, in this area of Southern California. My early morning drive now affords me the privilege of driving through this early morning, low laying cloud that has settled in over the little valley very near where I live. It occurs to me I can predict the cheery sun’s arrival because of the haze from the “June Gloom” as you can’t have one with out the other. Somehow this “June Gloom” that lingers on into July always seems to supply the analogy for the struggles of my life, for I have weathered much.
I am on a mission today to visit someone who had met Michael Jackson, just another everyday guy who did a job for our King of Pop, Rock, Soul and Music. Yet to me this was a gold mine. You see I had recently been blessed on God’s path to have received the most beautiful drawing of Michael Jackson from an incredibly gifted and blessed artist from Russia, Max Popov. I had it neatly tucked away and had waited patiently praying where and when God would lead me to have this piece framed. Now it was sitting safely in my car on the back seat and I was on a mission to deliver it into the most capable hands of a man who had himself framed many of Michael’s own chosen art pieces. One most especially important piece he worked on and repaired the frame on was “PMJ” by Dave Nordahl, which was an incredible picture of Michael’s son, Prince, while just a little baby sitting in a very similar red, gilded throne just like his daddy’s.
I now find myself embarking on this Magical Journey as I drive up the Pacific coastline. The windows are lowered and the sights and smells of the ocean are fresh in my face and nostrils as I breathe them in deeply. I look out over the Pacific Ocean and think of the power and majesty of Our Creator, the Lord. I think about how He has control over every last grain of sand on every beach and every wave that hits the shore and how I am but a tiny grain of sand in this universe. Yet here now in this place and time I feel so important… so important to my creator…so LOVED. He has touched my life in ways I can’t describe. His love is ever evolving and changing me. Not always a comfortable or gracious process. Then I think about Michael Jackson and how God’s touch allowed him to change the lives of millions and ponder how infinitely impossible it is for someone to have planned that sort of life. Only God could have assigned him that task and afforded him the knowledge and capability of accomplishing such an assignment. I am over whelmed with a feeling of gratitude for having lived during Michael’s life time.
Dogs and children run in the sand along the beach and campers line the beach for at least a mile at a favorite spot I have visited in the past. I long to go and visit with them and feel the sand between my toes… but alas I have a mission today… I am on a journey to higher ground. MJ’s music is the back drop for this panoramic scene as I hear his beautiful, perfect pitch sing to me “You Are Not Alone” and I expectantly listen for God’s guidance this day. I keep driving up the Pacific coastline.
June Gloom has not deterred the beach goers for they know as I do it won’t be long and the suns rays will warm the sand. Inevitably the sun does break through as it climbs into the sky. Just as I turn inland ‘Smooth Criminal’ begins to play and I hear Michael’s voice ring out a crescendo of “Annie are you okay?” Now I make the next leg of the journey up the mountain to Los Olivos and Neverland. The temperature now suddenly changes as the suns rays warm the landscape with a warm yellow glow. Here the sky is a brilliant blue azure and 100 year old Oak trees dot the rolling golden hills. I am entering God’s Country as my mom used to call it and Michael’s Neverland Country… just there… 2nd star to the right.
I see a sign which reads ‘Las Padres National Forest’ and think how fitting that Michael was so close to a forest as he loved trees so much, but this is not your typical forest. Now I travel a winding two lane road up the hillside and see much more lush green summer foliage and yellow wild flowers randomly decorate the hillsides. It occurs to me my entire adult life has been like these random God placed wild flowers. My life has vacillated between hard, harsh reality and ethereal moments of spiritual blessing and growth. All seemingly randomly placed to the naked eye but in all actuality God purposed and ordained each step, as He does not miss a thing and knows the existence and location of every atom in this universe. I am just where I am supposed to be in this moment in time. There are no mistakes, no coincidences.
I round a bend in the road and before me lays the vast beautiful vista of the Santa Ynez Valley. Simply laying out before me its bounty of lush green landscape, more rolling hills and the stretching waters of Lake Cachuma. I look at those rolling hills and picture God’s giant hand as he created this wondrous masterpiece. I see him scoop the sand up from the Santa Ynez sand box and slowly like an hour glass lets it sift through his mighty fingers to create these round mounded hills. Then just for good measure he scatters the seeds of golden brush, Oak trees and wild flowers to decorate His majestic creation. It occurs to me that Michael must have driven these very roads many, many times in the years he called Neverland his home. I now have a CD playing in my car which I recently made, with the help of a generous and kind friend. It plays Michael’s voice. It contains excerpts of many of his speeches and I hear him say “Without hope we are lost.” I look back at these rolling majestic hills and wonder now about why Michael had to leave this incredibly, lovely place he called home and think "Was he lost? Why did it have to be?" God had appointed him this very amazing journey which was Michael’s life. "Why did it have to end this way?" So many unanswered questions, when will the answers come? Questions lead to more questions in my mind.
As I continue to direct my car along the ribbon of winding road my mind moves back to the landscape and the old Oak trees. I think about the "Giving Tree" and how in tune with God, nature and life Michael was, every fiber of his being and pour of his body was gifted to feel the life of music, art and creativity and he shared all he received with the world so generously. He so freely gave of himself over and over. The gorgeous, stately Giving Tree comes to mind. This is one of those old Oak trees that was a true friend to Michael and blessed him with so much inspiration while Michael sat comfortably in its arms. I so wish someday to lay my eyes on this tree and embrace this friend to Michael. To possibly feel in some way its life and character as Michael did.
I now think of the name Cachuma Lake and remember the first residents of this area the Indians who first traveled this land, the Chumash Indians, who settled all along the Southern Pacific coast and close inlaying valleys. They traveled on foot with the changing seasons and would bend and shape the Oak trees to grow as markers along the way directing their path for generations. Not long after the covered wagons from early settlers to the West who traveled along these rolling hills and lush landscape. This was their promised land…their land of milk and honey. I remember Michael’s love of history and wonder if he ever learned about them. It is fascinating to think I am traveling on land where so much history has taken place and so much hope sprang to life.
Now the landscape changes and there are many, many vineyards. These were not present when Michael Jackson lived here years ago. Although the vineyards are not new to this area the swell and increase in the amount of vineyards is a new phenomenon to this countryside. It has been a source of beauty and a wonderful boost to economy for local towns and land owners. The Vineyards are now many and cover all of Santa Ynez County. ‘Heal the World’ begins to play as I turn left into the town of Los Olivos. The town is filled with many tourists there on wine tasting adventures. Parking spaces are hard to find on busy, bustling, fun filled tourist weekends but just as in so many of my God ordained adventures on this journey for Michael I am blessed to find a spot directly in front of the very art gallery I have come to visit. I ease into it and carefully lift my precious package from Russia out.
This is not my first trip to Neverland and Los Olivos. Not my first trip to the quaint and cozy town Michael Jackson frequented while living at Neverland. There seems to be a need within myself to glean every last drop of anything pertaining to Michael Jackson into my life, perhaps some way to keep him alive forever, an unquenchable thirst for more of Michael Jackson. It was on the previous visit that I had learned that this shop I was now revisiting was frequented by Michael in his everyday life. This shop owner is expecting me. As I open the door and step inside he greets me and says “Hi Betty. You made good time.” I smiled and thought, “Yes in deed I had because I was on God’s time, God’s clock.” Things in life always go so smoothly when I am in God’s time and place of appointment, those God ordained assignments. Here I stood before him with my beautiful art rendering and knew without a doubt I was exactly where I was suppose to be in God’s great universe. I slowly revealed from the packaging the beautiful picture of Michael. I felt the shop owner become quiet as he previewed this art in awe. Then he said “You know the man who drew this? This looks exactly like Michael. This is his skin tone. This is how his skin looked, life like yet porcelain. This is beautiful. He is very talented.” As he asked me questions about the piece I began to explain the origin of the picture we now admired. That it was a gift of gratitude to me for being of service in God’s assignment. God’s blessing to me from this fine artist, Max Popov. He reveled in the blending of the colors and Max’s artistic touch on paper. He even saw beauty as I did in the beautiful stamps on the packaging. I had held on to this gift for many, many weeks praying for God to lead me. I knew I wanted it framed in a special way then on my last visit to Neverland had met, Ralph Young. Ralph and I stood there together in full agreement. This drawing needed a special frame. We talked about the drawing and the artist for some time, our eyes always returning back to admire his work. Then we began to plan how it would be framed and labored together to pick just the right mats, glass and wooden frame to accent Max’s picture of Michael. All the while we worked Ralph, regaled me with stories of Michael’s visits to his store and his personal visits to Neverland, which was right down the road, when he delivered Michael’s art work to him there. It was no surprise to me seeing Michael’s love of art over the years that he would gravitate to the art store in the local town at one time or another.
He entertained me with stories about Michael driving into town in an old beat up ranch, pick-up truck and baseball hat in hopes no one would know it was him. He would get out and just walk around. Drop off his art to be framed and visit the video store and local market. No one bothered him. He was just part of the community. He shopped and walked the town as a regular person. Ralph shared one day while he was driving into Solvang, the next town over, he saw MJ driving in that same pick-up truck, coming toward him down the two lane road on the opposite side of the road. All the windows were down and the wind was flying through Michael’s hair as he drove quickly in the direction of Neverland after an apparent visit to Solvang. Solvang is a beautiful Danish town close by where Michael loved to visit the antique and candy stores. Another time, which was one of the first times Michael visited the art store his driver parked out front and Michael walked in with a mask on, accompanied by Raul, Michael’s assistant. Michael stood against a wall just inside the work area and whispered to Raul. Raul approached Ralph and asked about an art piece Michael wanted framed. Raul relayed the messages back and forth from Michael to Ralph several times. Slowly they bartered and the original price came down. Michael was a man who loved to make a deal and worked at getting a good price. I chuckled as Ralph shared this memory and seemed a bit miffed at having been at the other end of this bartering system. A smile filled my heart as I remembered Michael in his home movies where he chastised his brothers about how they should check out the local thrift stores because they would be surprised at what they could find at good prices there. I totally related to Michael as this appreciation of a good deal seemed to be deeply ingrained.
I had stood in this store only a week earlier for the first time with some beautiful MJ ladies. We had visited the gates of Neverland and written heart felt sentiments on small flat stones and lovingly tossed them on to the property so when the ground is tilled every year our hearts and sentiment will forever be embedded in the landscape where Michael used to walk. I was back again… for today this was a private journey. I had planned on taking several others with me but as God would have it… I was to be alone with Him, my Jesus, my friend… the one who has guided me on this incredible journey exploring the heart and life of Michael Jackson; this man, who was not a God, not a saint, not an angelic being but still yet angel like on earth as he emulated Jesus, and most especially just a human being. A most incredible human being destined to change and reach the world with God’s goodness.
Michael’s mother Katherine Jackson states in her book “Never Can Say Goodbye” that she believes Michael fulfilled the purpose God had for him on this earth. Millions of people all around the world attest to the touch that Michael Jackson’s love and talent has made in their lives. I now stand in this little art store in Los Olivos, California and I have an unquenchable thirst to find out who MJ was and in what ways has he touched people’s lives. I want to hear these stories for myself. From the very beginning as God placed on Michael’s soul while he was still in his mother’s womb a talent and genius not seen by any other entertainer in this world, as God first quickened within his body the gift of dance, song, and creativity Michael was making music. A child prodigy turned stratospheric super star was just a human being. I want to learn about that everyday person.
On this day with my rendering from Max of Michael safely placed where Michael’s art used to sit when being worked on in Ralph’s art gallery and with precious stories of Michael tucked neatly into my memory bank I wander over to the little grocery store where Michael shopped to see what BBQ lunch was available. Here there is a giant BBQ that sits out front and each day Tri Tip is BBQ’d for the customers. I purchase this scrumptious smelling potion of comfort food and make my way beyond the flag pole at the center of town and find the local park to partake of my feast. I no more take a seat at the first available picnic bench when two young violinists who happen to be about Prince and Paris’ age pull out their magical instruments and begin to treat my ears and heart to Chopin. This again a reminder that since June 25, 2009 every where I go I am reminded of Michael Jackson in so many ways and forms. I sit blissfully enjoying my BBQ Tri Tip and listen joyfully to the beautiful violin renderings. First Chopin, then Bach then of all things the Disney classic, and just so much like MJ, “It’s A Small World” and “Zippity Doo Dah”. I think how this would have brought a smile to Michael’s face had he been there to see these children entertain the town… but then maybe… was he? Then I stop myself. No! He is in heaven enjoying the comfort and peace of the Lord’s welcoming arms. Far away from all this painful earth doled out. Although I think at this particular moment and many others over the last year the Lord has said “Yes Michael please… give these children a nod of your presence. Bless them this day with a memory of you as only you can.” Yes I like to think that Michael is there watching, smiling and approving of this scene right along with Jesus. I finish my sandwich and wander over to listen more closely and learn the names of these budding virtuosos, Billy and Abby. Thanking them for sharing their gift of music I place my tip into the violin case as many of the street audience have done to thank them for their musical offerings.
Now I am off to visit the next stop on my journey of retracing MJ’s steps in Los Olivos. J Woeste is a nursery that I am told Michael Jackson visited several times. He purchased planted pottery and statues for Neverland here. It is a magical and intriguing place. I am enthralled as I enter through the gates. The soft sounds of giant wind chimes which hang in the branches of a huge tree at the entrance gate greet me as I approach. The sign at the wooden picket fence warns you to close the gate so pets do not escape. I obey. Once inside I am mesmerized and intrigued. The beauty lures me in deeper and deeper. Each turn and each glance takes me to a new fantasy land where my imagination runs free. This is a magical place that inspires both the artist and the gardener in me. I look up and see Michael’s hands as he held them in “Will You Be There?” I do a double take… yes just like Michael’s. At every turn in this mystical, magical land I am reminded of Michael. As I approach a chicken coup that sits in the far back corner of the lot, I see it houses the biggest, healthiest, happiest chickens I have ever seen. Then I look up and see these words posted, the song that both Michael’s mother used to sing to him and my father used to sing to me…”You Are My Sunshine.” On a subsequent visit to J. Woeste, I learn there are doves housed at the back of the chicken coup as well. There are just no coincidences in life. I also find white ceramic doves to commemorate the recent ‘Doves of LOVE Release’ that my beautiful friends and myself worked on and held to honor Michael Jackson and the Jackson family, on June 25th, the anniversary of Michael’s death. This a day which could have been so sad, so morose, yet as the Lord blessed us with the flight of these beautiful, graceful creatures we laughed, gut wrenching laughs, in a way that Michael would have loved. We celebrated his life with enraptured joy just as he would have wanted us to. Those Doves blessed the Jacksons and millions of MJ fans around the world in a most special way. Another God ordained assignment which as it unfolded gave all honor and glory to Jesus Christ who opened the doors against all odds and obstacles to enable 400 Doves to fly free over Forest Lawn that day.
The sun is now relaxed and low in the sky and creating a sleepy effect in the town. It is time for me to make my purchases of magical planted landscapes and move on down the road to Neverland. I approach the gates of Neverland and there are many people politely paying their respects to the King of Pop this day. Visiting bikers both male and female, families, travelers and there are many more security guards on duty this day. I hear Michael’s voice singing from a nearby car. No one is marking up the walls or leaving graffiti. Not a pen or marker in sight. Everyone is respectful and dignified as Michael would have wanted it. I begin to talk to the guards and they tell me this crowd is very respectful. They are tired of unruly MJ fans writing on the walls. They tell me although fans write on the walls most are calm but I am saddened to hear there are those who threatened the guards over the last months with physical harm and they are very tired of rebellious fans who refuse to adhere to their requests to stop writing on the walls, curbs, trees and light fixtures. We talk for about a half an hour and during this time I am invited inside the gates to the security shack. I am simply amazed I am on the other side of the gates, yet it is meaningless because Michael is no longer here. It is apparent all these men really want to see is respect and acknowledgment that this is private property and there are certain rules of common decency that should be adhered to. They are very nice and respectful of me and I of them. On this day there is a large, local event being held inside the property. I am somehow so surprised to learn life does in fact go on and the new owner of this property, we the fans still call Neverland, is now leasing it out for local events. I see many local, cowboy hat adorned ranchers driving out of Neverland in their cars and trucks as I continue to speak to the guards. It is now time for me to leave this once magical land… to the fans it will always be Neverland… the 2nd star to the right just up the road from Los Olivos… but in real life it is now once again Sycamore Valley Ranch… it once was a magical place where Michael Jackson lived, entertained and created in, a place that sparked the imagination and inspired many of Michael Jackson’s great works of art. It is also the place he said, “I won’t live there again. It’s a house now. It’s not a home anymore.” He had moved away years ago… no it is a shell of what it was when Michael lived there. No magic left. The house is empty, the rides gone, the zoo empty, no children laughing inside those gates, no endless paths of blooming flowers, no train whistle blowing. Yet still there are fans making the pilgrimage here everyday from all over the world, just as I have, hoping to glean anything, any little small moment of remembrance of our King of Music, The King of our Hearts, Michael Jackson who was taken from us far too soon. I silently plead with God…please can’t we turn back time… for so many different reasons and on so many different levels. I sigh. I pray. I accept. I vow I will return… for after all I have a new appointment in Los Olivos. My assignment here is not complete. To be continued….
