Trip down memory lane finds a personable, approachable star

Photo

FILE - In this 1972 file photo, singer Michael Jackson at age 13, the youngest member of the singing group Jackson Five, sings in his home in Encino, Ca. (AP Photo, file)

By Sean Barron

It’s extremely rare that I recall a brief conversation I had with someone more than 30 years after the fact.

But in this case, not only do I remember the dialogue almost verbatim that I shared with a young man a few years older than me, but also the setting and circumstances — and the 19-year-old’s personality.

His name was Michael Jackson.

In March 1978, when I was 16, the family moved to San Fernando, Calif., because my parents had gotten into the music business. Specifically, they worked closely with local singer Maureen McGovern, with my father and mother serving as her manager and road manager/lyricist, respectively.

Several months after the move, the already well-established singer and child star came to Dawnbreaker Studio in San Fernando, where my parents worked and McGovern recorded some of her albums. Jackson was there to work on and mix a song that became part of his best-selling 1979 album “Off the Wall,” which was the first solo effort he made after signing with Epic Records.

During a break, Jackson came out of the dark, nearly sound-proof studio and appeared in the lounge next to it, where I was watching TV. He introduced himself and, after a bit of small talk, showed a genuine interest in me.

“Do you and your sister fight very often?” he asked with a playful tone and big smile.

Yes, I replied, explaining that we fought occasionally like many siblings, or something to that effect.

“My brothers and I fight, too — sometimes,” he said, exhibiting the same sincere smile.

Ordinarily a fairly routine — if not forgettable — conversation by a week or so after its occurrence. Except when it takes place with someone who, at that point, had been a major performer and artist for more than half his life.

And as everyone knew then, a lot more was to come.

I heard him rehearsing in the studio a few times during his stay and remember being struck by his amazing and controlled energy. I had never heard anyone sing remotely like that — and haven’t since.

In addition to our conversation, I vividly remember how sweet, gentle, kind and compassionate he was toward everyone at Dawnbreaker. Not a trace of ego could be found; he also went out of his way to be accommodating, as when he agreed to be photographed standing next to my grandmother, Ruth Carty, a Youngstown native and longtime Poland resident, who was visiting from her home in Sarasota, Fla.

The young Jackson remained good-natured, even while enduring a major scare.

Since we hadn’t yet moved into our home, we kept our German shepherd in a nearby warehouse that was attached to the studio. Upon seeing our dog in the courtyard one day, Jackson froze in his tracks.

“I’m sorry, but I’m terrified of dogs,” he said quietly. “He won’t hurt me, will he?”

The gentleness of McGill, our shepherd, stood in stark contrast to his imposing figure. We tried to reassure Jackson that our dog would not harm him, but he remained fearful and returned to the studio.

Fast-forward 31 years: I was en route to PNC Park in Pittsburgh on June 25 to watch the Pirates play the Cleveland Indians when I heard on WAMO-AM 860, a Pittsburgh station, that the singer had been rushed to UCLA Medical Center, apparently after having suffered cardiac arrest. Then, as the game got under way, speculation about his condition started swarming the airwaves, until reports finally confirmed that he had died at age 50.

Upon hearing the stunning news, my mind immediately flashed back three decades — to the warmth and kindness exuded by the shy but extraordinarily talented teen with amazing star power, showmanship and poise — bypassing the troubling times that lay ahead.

I confess that I still don’t know what to make of the sexual-molestation charges and child-abuse allegations that had been made against him several years ago.

What I do know, however, is that a jury acquitted Jackson in 2005 on all 10 counts — and that it’s not my place to judge him.

So, what I’m left with are wonderful memories of having crossed paths on a warm summer day with a multitalented singer/choreographer who used the recording studio to help make one of what would be a string of platinum albums.

What also will stick with me is his warm, unassuming and congenial personality (to say nothing of his dance moves), as well as wondering whether he ever conquered his fear of dogs.

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