It was 1975; I was 13 years old and in third form at St. Andrew High School for Girls when I heard the news that Michael Jackson and the Jackson 5 were coming to Kingston to perform. My mother, a strict Pentecostal Christian, forbade my sisters and me from playing secular music or dancing.
Yet, I could not resist watching Michael Jackson whenever she was at church, which was several nights per week. I also caught glimpses of him in the American teen magazines I would browse with my friends at York Pharmacy after school. I thought he was the cutest boy I had ever seen in my life.
His voice, clear as a bell, reached high notes in songs like “I’ll Be There” and expressed unconditional love in the beautiful song dedicated to his pet, Ben. For all I knew, he was singing to me when he declared to Ben:
“If you ever look behind
And don’t like what you find
There’s something you should know
You’ve got a place to go.”
Unofficial Jackson 5 fan club at St. Andrew High School
As far as I was concerned, Michael was speaking directly to me, heart to heart, and I loved it. I was convinced that I would grow up and marry Michael Jackson, whatever it took to surpass the millions of other girls in line. It was my destiny.
St. Andrew High was buzzing with Jackson 5 adulation. I believed that the most enthusiastic, albeit unregistered, Jackson 5 fan club comprised my classmates, a clique of six girls. They adored the Jacksons, talked about them incessantly, and even formed a dance group solely to perform Jackson 5 hits.
They practised tirelessly, performing with gusto at school barbecues and other events. Their dedication extended to scheming how to host their own show at Carib Theatre in Crossroads, imitating the Jackson 5.
Missing the Concert
Of course, they all went to the concert, while I had to spend yet another Saturday night watching “Little House on the Prairie,” a morally sound television show approved by my mother. My friend Michelle had obtained tickets through her mother’s connections for seats right at the front of the stage at the National Stadium.
When Michelle and the rest of the girls lucky enough to attend the Saturday night concert arrived at school on Monday morning, they were dazed and ecstatic. They had discovered that the Jackson 5 were staying at the Sheraton Hotel in New Kingston.
We headed over there right after school, walking in the sun from St. Andrew. If my mother had only known! Apparently, other high school girls in Kingston had also received the ‘Let’s go see Michael’ memo. Scores of girls were scattered throughout the hotel lobby and pool area, hoping for a glimpse of Michael or any of his handsome brothers.
Just a little glimpse
The Jacksons emerged about half an hour after we arrived, dressed for a basketball game against Kingston’s finest high school players. I remember first seeing Marlon’s head at the top of the stairs, followed by Jermaine, Jackie, and finally Michael.
The girls screamed in a mass frenzy, rushing up the short flight of stairs. I saw the look of panic on Michael’s face before he ran back, and we never saw him again. I wonder now how many of those frightening encounters impacted his childhood development and contributed to the reclusive life he eventually led out of necessity.
I was mesmerised
I do not recall how long it took to quieten the crowd and restore order to the Sheraton lobby, or how the Jacksons managed to leave. Eventually, we took a bus to the National Arena and spent the rest of the afternoon drooling over Marlon, Tito, and Jackie Jackson as they played against the Jamaican boys.
I recognized only two boys from Kingston College, and whether they played like NBA stars, I could not tell you. I had eyes only for the Jacksons, mesmerised by their billowing Afros, their sparkling smiles, and their powerful legs in those short shorts.
It was my dream come true. I may have missed the concert, but I had seen Michael, the boy of my dreams, and his gorgeous brothers in the flesh. For that, I have my friend Michelle to thank for the memories.
Special thanks to Michelle for the photos.
