I've been trying to get myself round to writing this, but the time never seemed right. Here goes.
On June 25th, a man who was so much a part of my childhood, and that of billions others, was announced dead. Paralysing shock was what struck me first, followed by disbelief, then sadness, and then absolute devastation.
He was the man whose dance moves we attempted in our livingrooms; socks on our feet and hand on the crotch, yelps escaping our mouths trying to imitate the sounds he used to make. And then we wore that tattered rag-glove from the kitchen on one hand, and donned one of pa's old hats. And then at some point, we got busted for gathering all the stand-fans in the house and arranging them in a row in front of us to get that wind-blown effect he always had in his concerts.
He was the man whose songs we danced and sang to in kindergarten, primary and secondary school. Whose songs we listened to when we were sad, angry, lonely, happy and in love. Whose songs were used everywhere in the world for charity events, for funerals, for parties, for weddings and any other events where you couldn't find the perfect words to say - because
he did. Whose concert you missed only because you had chicken pox the week he arrived in your town.
His music broke down racial, religious, political and geographical barriers all around the world. His music accompanied budding romances, held the hands of the lonely, soothed the souls of the broken-hearted... healed the world.
He was the man whose eccentricities often intrigued, bewildered and sometimes even repelled people. Criticising his personal life was the point of interest for many, mostly those who had forgotten or pushed aside all the amazing things he had done in his lifetime. His contributions toward the music industry can only be summed up as colossal, but what he did for the people towers high above the height of all accusations laid upon him
combined.
On June 25th, we lost the greatest entertainer this world had ever seen.
'I'll never let you part, for you're always in my heart.'
The music, the memories, the inspiration, the love.
'Thank you, Michael. Thank you, Michael. Thank you, Michael.'
-Rev. Al Sharpton
