Michael Jackson

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  In the sixties, Gary was a tough, urban city, and the Jacksons' neighbourhood was sometimes a dangerous place for youngsters. Katherine and Joseph lived in constant fear that one of their children would be hurt in the streets. ‘We were always protected by our parents,’ Jackie recalled. ‘We were never really allowed to have fun in the streets like other kids. We had a strict curfew. The only time we could actually play with people our own age was in school. We liked the social aspect of school.’

  Katherine Jackson, a strong force in the lives of her children, passed on to them a deep and abiding respect for certain religious convictions. She had been a Baptist and then a Lutheran but turned from both faiths for the same reason: she discovered that the ministers were having extramarital affairs. When Michael was five years old Katherine became a Jehovah's Witness, converted by a door-to-door worker. She was baptized in 1963 in the swimming pool at Roosevelt High in Gary. From then on, she asked that the rest of the family get dressed in their best clothes every Sunday and walk with her to Kingdom Hall, their place of worship. Joseph, who had been raised a Lutheran, accompanied his wife a couple of times to placate her, but stopped going when the children were still young because, as Marlon put it, ‘it was so boring.’ As time went on, Michael, LaToya, and Rebbie would become the most devout about their religion.

  Had that religion been any but the Jehovah's Witnesses, Michael Jackson would probably have evolved in a completely different way. So removed are Jehovah's Witnesses from mainstream Protestantism, they were sometimes considered a cult, especially in the fifties and sixties. No matter where they live, no Jehovah's Witness will salute a flag (they believe it is idolatrous to do so) or serve in any armed forces (each Witness is considered an ordained minister and, therefore, exempt). They don't celebrate Christmas or Easter or birthdays. They usually will not contribute money to any group outside their own church because they consider preaching the gospel the most worthwhile, charitable deed. Jehovah's Witnesses periodically make news because they refuse to receive blood transfusions for themselves or their children, no matter how gravely ill the patient may be.

  In the strictest sense of the teachings, Jehovah's Witnesses considered themselves the sheep; everybody else is a goat. When the great battle of Armageddon is fought – it was expected in 1972 and then in 1975 – all the goats will be destroyed at once and the sheep will be spared. The sheep will then be resurrected to a life on earth as subjects of the Kingdom of God. They will be ruled by Christ and a select group of 144,000 Witnesses who will reside in heaven by Christ's side. At the end of a thousand years, Satan will come forth to tempt those on earth. Those who succumb to his wiles will be immediately destroyed. The rest will live, idyllically. Of course, as with those who adhere to religious beliefs, some Witnesses are more adamant about those teachings than others.

  Estimates are that 20 to 30 per cent of its members are black. Witnesses are judged solely by their good deeds – their witnessing, or door-to-door proselytizing – and not on new cars, large homes, expensive clothes and other status symbols. Because of her devotion to the Jehovah's Witnesses, Katherine was mostly satisfied with what she had in Gary, Indiana. She enjoyed her life, and had little issue with it other than her concern that the city didn't offer much promise for her children's future, other than work in factories for the boys and domestic life for the girls. Would that be so bad? Yes, Joseph would tell her, absolutely, yes. Sometimes, she agreed. Sometimes, she wasn't so sure what to think about any of it.

  Every day, for at least three hours, the boys would rehearse, whether they wanted to do so or not, with Joseph's only thought being to get his family out of Gary.

  ‘When I found out that my kids were interested in becoming entertainers, I really went to work with them,’ Joseph Jackson would tell Time. ‘When the other kids would be out on the street playing games, my boys were in the house working, trying to learn how to be something in life, do something with their lives.’

  Though the Jacksons' music may have brought them closer together as a family unit, it also served to further alienate them from everyone else in the neighbourhood. ‘Already, people thought we were strange because of our religion,’ Jackie would remember. ‘Now they were sure of it. They'd say, “Yeah, look at those Jacksons. They think they're something special.” Everyone else used to hang out on the corners and sing with their groups. But we weren't allowed to. We had to practise at home. So the other kids thought we thought we were too good to sing with on the corner.’

  Rehearsals were still held twice a day, before school and after, even though their peers in the neighbourhood thought the Jacksons were wasting their time. As they practised, voices from outside would taunt them through open windows, ‘You ain't nothing,' you Jacksons!’ Rocks would be hurled into the living room. It didn't matter to the Jacksons; they ignored the taunts and focused on their practice sessions.

  By 1962, five-year-old Marlon had joined the group, playing bongos and singing, mostly off-key. (Marlon couldn't sing or dance, but he was allowed in the group anyway because Katherine would not have it any other way.) One day when the boys were practising while Joseph was at work, Katherine watched as Michael, who was four years old, began imitating Jermaine as he sang a James Brown song. When Michael sang, his voice was so strong and pure, Katherine was surprised. As soon as Joseph got home, she met him at the door with some good news: ‘I think we have another lead singer.’

  Joseph Hits Michael

  Today, Michael Jackson often speaks about the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father. When he gave his controversial 2003 interview to Martin Bashir, quick tears came to his eyes when he remembered the way his dad treated him. ‘It was bad,’ he said of the beatings. ‘Real bad.’ Watching Michael as he took himself back to the days in Gary when his father hit him was truly painful. Clearly, all these years later, he is still traumatized by that part of his childhood.

  Little Michael was a fascinating child. ‘Ever since Michael was very young, he seemed different to me from the rest of the children,’ Katherine said. ‘I don't believe in reincarnation, but you know how babies move so uncoordinated? Michael never moved that way. When he danced, it was as if he were an older person.’

  Michael was always precocious. His mother has recalled that at the age of a year and a half he would hold his bottle and dance to the rhythm of the washing machine. His grandmother, Chrystal Johnson (her later married name), has recalled that he began singing when he was about three. ‘And what a beautiful voice he had,’ she enthused. ‘Even back then, he was a joy to listen to.’

  Michael was too sensitive a boy to be manhandled the way he was by his father. He was also quick on his feet, and determined to avoid an altercation with Joseph. Tito remembered that Michael was ‘so quick that if my mother or father used to swing at him, he'd be out of their way. They'd be swinging at air.’

  Joseph believed in the value and impact of brute force as a disciplinary tool. ‘Either you're a winner in this life, or a loser,’ he liked to say. ‘And none of my kids are gonna be losers.’ To be sure of that, he would smack his kids without giving it a second thought in order to keep them on the right track to being ‘winners’. Shoving them into walls was not unusual behaviour for him, especially the boys. Michael, however, was the one boy in the family who would attempt to fight back when provoked by his father. Once, when he was just three, Joseph spanked him for something he had done. Crying, Michael then took off one of his shoes and hurled it at his father. Joseph ducked; the shoe missed him.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ Joseph screamed at him. ‘Boy, you just signed your own death warrant. Get over here.’

  Infuriated, Joseph grabbed Michael and, according to Marlon, held him upside down by one leg and pummelled him over and over again with his hand, hitting him on his back and buttocks. Soon, Michael was crying and screaming so loudly it seemed as if he was trying to summon the entire neighbourhood to his aid.

  ‘Put him down, Joseph,’ Katherine hollered. ‘You're go
nna kill him! You're gonna kill him.’

  When Joseph released the boy, he ran to his room, sobbing, ‘I hate you.’ Those were fighting words for Joseph. He followed Michael into the bedroom, slammed the door and then let him have it.

  ‘Joseph once locked Michael in a closet for hours,’ said a friend of the Jackson family's. ‘That was traumatizing, horrible for him.’

  Katherine didn't know how to reconcile herself to her husband's treatment of their children. How could a man so gentle at times that he would kiss her fingertips in a romantic moment, turn around and beat her children? His behaviour simply wasn't in the sphere of her understanding, as a God-fearing woman. However, she didn't know what to do about it. As much as she loved him, she feared him. She would speak up at times, but reluctantly.

  In truth, Katherine had also been the target of Joseph's fury. When Rebbie was a baby, Joseph was on edge because of sleep deprivation and a heavy work schedule. One day, he returned home to a crying baby, only to find Katherine outside talking to one of the neighbours. He ran out to get her. ‘The kid is screaming her head off,’ he shouted. Katherine immediately returned to the baby's side. ‘I'm sorry, Joseph,’ she said, according to her memory. ‘I didn't know she had awakened.’ Suddenly, Joseph turned around and smacked his wife across the face. ‘My cheek went numb,’ Katherine recalled. Her reaction was swift and immediate fury. She took a ceramic bottle warmer and threw it at him with everything she had in her. It struck him on his forearm and shattered, cutting him deeply. Blood gushed from the wound as the two argued. ‘Don't you ever hit me again,’ Katherine warned him, ‘or I'll leave you so fast your head will spin.’ Katherine says that the violent episode marked the first and last time Joseph ever struck her – but, apparently, he turned his violent temper on her children.

  When Michael was five, he toddled into a room and had his breath taken away when Joseph tripped him and he fell to the ground, bloodied. ‘That's for whatcha' did yesterday,’ Joseph said. ‘And tomorrow, I'm gonna get you for what you'll do today.’

  Michael began to cry. ‘But I didn't even do nothin' yet,’ he said through his tears.

  ‘Oh, you will, boy,’ Joseph said. ‘You will.’

  From that point onward, whenever young Michael walked into a room he looked left, then right, as if crossing the street. He was hoping to avoid his father. How does a young boy deal with such fear? ‘I began to be so scared of that man,’ Michael later recalled. ‘In fact, I guess it's safe to say that I hated him.’

  Michael recalled that his father ‘was always a mystery to me, and he knows it. One of the things I regret most is never being able to have a real closeness with him.’ In truth, none of the Jackson children ever developed ‘a real closeness’ with Joseph, who was not affectionate toward them. Sometimes he took his boys camping and fishing on weekends or taught them how to box to defend themselves, but he never paid much attention to the girls. (As a toddler, Janet liked to crawl into bed with her mother and father, but she had to wait until Joseph was asleep.)

  Aspects of Joseph's parenting were unconventional, to say the least. Whenever the boys left their bedroom window open at night, he would go outside and climb into their room and then scream at them at the top of his lungs… while wearing a fright mask. The youngsters would begin crying and hyperventilating, frightened half to death. Why would a father cause his children such trauma? Joseph explains that he was trying to demonstrate why they should not leave the windows open at night. After all, what if a burglar were to enter the house? Michael and Marlon would, for many years afterwards, suffer from vivid nightmares of being kidnapped from the safety of their bedrooms.

  Suffice it to say that as he grew older Michael pulled about as far away from Joseph as he could, clinging to his mother, whom he adored, as if his very life depended on it (and maybe it did). ‘Even with nine children, she treated each of us like an only child,’ he would remember to this writer in 1991. ‘Because of Katherine's gentleness, warmth and attention, I can't imagine what it must be like to grow up without a mother's love. [What an ironic statement, considering that both of his children are, today, being raised without their mother, Debbie Rowe.] The lessons she taught us were invaluable. Kindness, love and consideration for other people headed her list.’

  And, as for Joseph? ‘I used to throw up whenever I thought of him,’ Michael recalled, succinctly. In his 2003 Martin Bashir interview, he noted that Joseph has blue eyes. Clearly, he hasn't looked into his father's eyes in some time; they're hazel, almost green.

  Climbing Mountains

  In 1963, at the age of five, Michael Jackson began attending Garnett Elementary School. Katherine has said that he was generous to a fault, so much so that he used to take jewellery from her dresser and give it to his teachers as tokens of his affection for them. A stubborn child, he continued to do so even after his mother chastised him for giving away her possessions.

  One of Michael's first memories concerns performing at the age of five, when he sang ‘Climb Ev'ry Mountain’ from The Sound of Music a cappella for his class. The other children were impressed as much by his self-confidence as by his talent; he received a standing ovation. The teacher started to sob. Katherine attended the performance with Joseph's father, Samuel, who was not a sentimental man, yet even he was moved to tears by Michael's mellifluous performance. ‘I don't know where he got it from,’ Katherine said of Michael's prowess as a singer. ‘He was just so good, so young. Some kids are special. Michael was special.’

  Five-year-old Michael had so much energy and charisma that Jackie, who was twelve at the time, decided his younger brother would become ‘the lead guy’. That was perfectly fine with Michael; he enjoyed being the centre of attention. However, Jermaine's feelings were hurt. He had been the lead singer of the group, and now suddenly he wasn't good enough. Some family members have theorized that one of the reasons he stuttered as a child was a lack of confidence. Still, Jermaine would support the family's decision because Michael was so obviously a natural entertainer. However, it must be said that it always seemed that Jermaine competed with Michael, especially as an adult, often trying to best him.

  ‘He became this great little imitator,’ Jermaine would remember of Michael. ‘He'd see something – another kid dance, or maybe James Brown on TV – and next thing you knew, Michael had it memorized and knew just what to do with it. He loved to dance too. Marlon was a good dancer, maybe better than Mike. But Mike loved it more. He was always dancin' 'round the house. You'd always catch him dancin' for himself in the mirror. He'd go off alone and practise and then come back and show us this new step. We'd incorporate it into the act. Michael began choreographing our show.’

  ‘Finally it was time for us to enter a talent contest,’ Michael recalled. ‘This is something I remember like it was just yesterday.

  ‘Everyone on the block wanted to be in the talent show and win the trophy. I was about six years old but I had figured out then that nobody gives you nothin'. You got to win it. Or, like Smokey Robinson said in one of his songs, “You got to earn it”. We did this talent contest at Roosevelt High School in Gary. We sang The Temptations' “My Girl” and won first prize.’

  The boys also performed their rendition of the Robert Parker hit song, ‘Barefootin'’. During a musical break in the middle of the song, little Michael kicked off his shoes and started doing the barefoot dance all over the stage, much to the crowd's delight.

  ‘After that, we started winning every talent show we entered,’ Michael said. ‘It was just going from one thing to another, up, up, up. The whole house was full of trophies, and my father was so proud. Probably, the happiest I ever saw my mother and father was back there in Gary when we were winning those talent shows. That's when we were closest, I think, back in the beginning when we didn't have anything but our talent.’

  By 1965, Joseph was making only about eight thousand dollars a year working full-time at the mill. Katherine worked part-time as a saleswoman at Sears. When Joseph wanted to st
art spending more money on the group – musical equipment, amplifiers, microphones – Katherine became concerned.

  ‘I was afraid we were getting in over our heads,’ she would recall. She and Joseph had vociferous disagreements about finances. ‘I saw this great potential in my sons,’ Joseph once told me, in his defence. ‘So yes, I did go overboard. I invested a lot of money in instruments, and this was money we did not have. My wife and I would have heated arguments about this “waste of money”, as she would call it. She'd yell at me that the money should have been put into food, not into guitars and drums. But I was the head of the household and what I said was the final word. I overran her opinion.

  ‘Black people were used to struggling and making ends meet. This was nothing new for me or any of us. I came up struggling, so my kids knew how to economize. They had no choice. We made a penny stretch by eating foods like chitterlings and collard greens. I used to tell them we were eating soul food in order to be able to play soul. We were trying to move upward, trying to get ahead. I wasn't going to let anything stop us.’

  In the end, he and Katherine always got past the fights. After the shouting, Joseph would lean in and kiss her lightly on the lips. He could be surprisingly gentle. She later said she would tremble whenever he took a romantic approach; he could always reason with her in that way. ‘Joseph convinced me that the boys were worth it,’ she recalled. ‘No one ever believed in his sons more than my husband believed in those boys. He used to tell me, “I'd spend my last dime on those boys if that's what it took”.’