On a day in 1984...

...I was having dinner with my grandparents at Fisherman's Warf in San Francisco. We had parked in a small parking lot behind the Wax Museum. When we were finished with dinner, we noticed that a small crowd was starting to form in the parking lot where our car was parked, underneath the window of a building. The crowd was quickly growing and began screaming and chanting, "Michael! Michael!" I could see people running towards us from the streets in all directions.

I was a huge Michael Jackson fan. HUGE! We heard that he was occasionally waiving from a top story window of the Wax Museum and had arrived in an old VW bug parked underneath the window at the back door of the Museum. My grandpa was a scrapper and crowds did not scare the man. He put me on his shoulders and we pushed and shoved our way deep into the crowd. It began getting louder and tighter. The police arrived and started trying to clear a path through the parking lot for an exit. My Grandpa pushed his way right up to the line. I could see about 20 yards to where he was going to exit the building.

In no time at all, it was viciously loud. I could see the top of his head and the police crowded around him getting closer and closer to me. As a kid, I just about peed my pants. I was about 8 or 9 years old. My grandpa was holding on to me as tight as he could. I can only imagine the crowd of people pushing against him must have been difficult.

The anticipation... can't describe it. Remember, HUGE fan. At just the point he would have been directly in front of me and in perfect sight, I saw nothing. Nothing. It was the most confusing moment of my life up until then. I went over and over it in my head that night. I had to retell the story to family by phone that night and of course they asked, "What did he look like??" I didn't know.

The next day, the front page of the San Francisco Examiner displayed a picture of Michael Jackson and his police escort pushing his way through the crowd. And just above his head in the near background was my little head. The reason I didn't see him was because I was flashed with a flash bulb. He was there to appreciate the new wax mold that was being revealed of him. Suddenly, it all made sense.

RIP - King of Pop. I'm still holding onto the white beaded glove my mom made for me that year.