Chapter 1
STEELTOWN DREAMING
Jackson Street isnât the sort of place where houses have groundskeepers. The few inhabited homes on the rutted strip of asphalt in Gary, Indiana, sport overgrown yards and heavily fortified doors; the empty ones are marked by boarded or broken windows and crumbling roofs.
Thatâs not the case at 2300 Jackson Street, Michael Jacksonâs childhood homeâa squat box that looks more like an oversize Monopoly piece than a structure capable of housing a family of eleven. In the twilight of a summer Sunday, a middle-aged man in baggy black jeans and a sleeveless denim vest patrols the tidy front yard, gently brooming stray leaves into a bag on the walkway to the front door.
The house is surrounded by a wrought iron fence, its bars decked with roses, candles, and teddy bears left by years of visits by mourners from around the world. In one corner of the yard, a gleaming black monument towers over the greenery, looking like a monolith dreamed up by Stanley Kubrick, save for the inscription:
KING OF POP
MICHAEL J. JACKSON
AUGUST 29, 1958
JUNE 25, 2009
HOME TOWN OF MICHAEL JACKSON â GARY, IN.
âNever can say good byeâ1
The groundskeeper looks up from his sweeping and ambles over to the gate. He extends his hand, introducing himself as Greg Campbell.
âThatâs one hump, not two,â he says, letting out a deep guffaw. âYou know, camels have humps.â2
When I ask Campbell how he came to be sweeping up in front of this particular house, he informs me that he grew up just four blocks away. He went to grade school nearby with Jermaine and La Toya Jackson, and spent many afternoons in front of 2300 Jackson Street singing with the brothers.
âWe all started on the corner singing Temptations songs,â he says, and suddenly erupts into one of themââIâve got sun-shiiiiiiine!ââ his pure tone ringing through the empty street. âItâs a lot of history.â
He looks back at the house.
âThis is the beginning right here. Everybody got whupped, everybody played instruments.â
As it turns out, Campbell isnât the only childhood acquaintance of Michael Jackson on the premises. Another man bounds out of the gated door of the house, thick braids coiled neatly into a ponytail behind him. He rushes up to greet me, identifying himself as Keith JacksonâMichaelâs first cousinâand asks if Iâd like to buy a T-shirt for twenty dollars. I decline.
Keith was only a toddler when the young King of Pop actually lived at the house, but he swears he remembers everything that happened in 1965 as though it occurred last Tuesday.
âFor me, it was the music, man; just to sit there and watch them rehearse,â he recalls. âWe had the privilege of being there inside the house while other kids was just trying to peek through the window. So that was a moment in time that I really enjoyed, just watching them when they first started. Right here. I mean, I was like two or three years old, but I still remember.â3
Nearly half a century later, though, Keith Jackson offers something else about his cousinâsomething having little to do with his well-documented musical prowess.
âMike was very smart, man,â he says. âOutside of being an entertainer, he was definitely a great businessman as well.â
Michael Jacksonâs father doesnât do phone interviews, or at least thatâs what I was told when I first tried to contact him. If I wanted to talk to Joe Jackson, I would have to come to Las Vegasâaloneâand meet him at the Orleans Hotel and Casino, a sprawling faux-Cajun complex on the wrong side of Interstate 15.
When I arrived in the lobby, it wasnât hard to spot the Jackson family patriarch. He was clad all in blackâalligator loafers, slacks, dress shirtâwith a lone red feather in his fedora. Bulky rings clung to his fingers like gilded barnacles. He removed his black-and-gold Prada sunglasses to reveal a pair of squinty eyes set toward the outer edges of his face, giving him the look of a nefarious disco piranha. Then he motioned me to a couch and we sat down. I asked if I could record our conversation; he nodded, but then reached for my device.
âLet me put this right here like this,â he said in a high, hushed voice, looking across the lobby at a middle-aged stranger. âI donât want her to be hearing what Iâm saying.â4
Joe Jackson has long been a suspicious man, but he hasnât always lived gaudily. He and his wife Katherine bought their house at 2300 Jackson Street for $9,000 in 1949, with the help of loans from her parents. The coupleâs first child, Maureen (nicknamed Rebbie), arrived the next year. She was followed by Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, La Toya, and Marlon (whose twin, Brandon, died shortly after birth), with barely nine months between each. And then, on August 29, 1958, came Michael Jackson.
âHe was very hyperactive, couldnât be still,â recalls Joe. âThose things made me think that he would be good in performing.â
The Jacksons would add two more children, Randy and Janet, and as their homeâs purchase price suggests, accommodations were far from luxurious: the minuscule abode measures 24 by 36 feet.5
âWhen you look at the house and see how small it is, itâs like, âWhere did you guys sleep?â â says Garyâs mayor, Karen Freeman-Wilson, who grew up in the city at the same time as the Jacksons. âThere was a daybed in one of the rooms, along with maybe a dresser or some other piece of furniture, and it was crowded.â6
Still, a toddlerâs imagination can make even the tiniest house seem spacious. âI had remembered it as being large,â Jackson wrote of his childhood dwelling. âWhen youâre that young, the whole world seems so huge that a little room can seem four times its size.â7
Michaelâs mother worked part-time at Sears but mostly stayed home with the children, while his father earned $30 per day as a crane operator at nearby Inland Steel.8 Whenever the mill cut back on Joeâs shifts, heâd work in the fields harvesting crops. He never told his children when heâd lost work; their only clue was an uptick in potato-based meals.9
Michael Jacksonâs musical talents can be traced in part to his parents. His mother grew up singing spirituals in church, while Joe played guitar in a Gary band called the Falcons as an adult.10 The Jackson boys absorbed their parentsâ hobby, singing while washing the dishes every evening.11 Joe figured music could help keep his kids off the dangerous streets of Gary; if they were inside watching the Falcons, they couldnât be outside getting involved with gangs.
Joeâs guitar was not to be played by anyone else, and he made this especially clear to his children. That, of course, only made them more eager to try. When Joe worked late shifts at the mill, the oldest brothersâJackie, Tito, and Jermaineâwould sneak into his closet and take turns strumming while a young Michael watched. Theyâd play the scales they were learning in music class at school, branching out to the soulful tunes they heard on the radio. Katherine eventually found them out, but in an effort to encourage her sonsâ musical development, she said she wouldnât tell Joe as long as they were cautious.
One day, Tito did the unthinkable while performing a song by the Four Tops with his brothers: he broke a string on the guitar. With their father due home any minute, the boys panickedâthere wasnât time to replace it. Joe was an avid practitioner of corporal punishment, and they knew this was just the sort of transgression that would result in a sound beating. Unable to come up with a plan, they placed the guitar back in Joeâs closet and hoped for leniency.
They got their wish, though not quite in the form theyâd been expecting. When Joe noticed the broken string, he stormed into the boysâ room holding his guitar and demanded to know who was responsible. Tito confessed, but just as Joe grabbed him to begin administering his punishment, the youngster protested.
âI can play!â
âPlay, then!â Joe thundered. âLet me see what you can do.â
Tito composed himself and started playing âThe Jerkâ by the Larks, with Jackie and Jermaine singing harmony while fighting back tears. When theyâd finished, Joe left the room without saying a wordâor lifting a finger. Two days later he returned from work with a red guitar for Tito and instructions for the other brothers to get ready to start rehearsing. And so the Jackson 5 was born.12
Though Jermaine started out as the groupâs lead singer, the family already knew there was something remarkable about Michael. Even as a toddler, he moved and sang with the grace and fluidity of a veteran entertainer. âMichael was so talented,â recalls his father. âI donât think he even knew his own talents . . . he didnât know because everything he tried came out perfect.â13
Shortly after the boys started practicing as a band, they were playing for their grandmother when a curious thing happened: five-year-old Michael, whoâd been playing the bongos and studying his older brothers, jumped in and started singing Jermaineâs part. His brothers complained, and Joe stopped the song. But Michaelâs grandmother had heard something. She asked him to sing again, anything he wanted, and he launched into a rendition of âJingle Bells.â Jermaine still remembers âthe wide-eyed look on Josephâs face.â14
Michael clinched his status as the groupâs frontman shortly thereafter with a school performance of âClimb Evâry Mountain.â The famous tune from Rodgers and Hammersteinâs The Sound of Music was his first solo in front of a big crowd, but that wasnât apparent to those in the gymnasium watching him. âWhen I finished that song, the reaction in the auditorium overwhelmed me,â he wrote. âMy teachers were crying and I just couldnât believe it. I had made them all happy. It was such a great feeling.â15
Jacksonâs business career had a less auspicious beginning. The singerâs childhood compatriots remember his ill-fated attempt to become a candy distributorâand his failure to grasp the concept of profit. âThere was a store down the street somewhere up there,â says Campbell. âHeâd go get them little malt balls for a nickel, and sell âem for a nickel.â16
Indeed, Michaelâs earliest years offer few clues that, within two decades, heâd become the visionary behind a billion-dollar empire. But there were hints he might one day be the sort of entertainer whoâd donate millions to charity.
âMike was always the giving type of guy,â says Keith Jackson. âI remember when he used to get his allowance from my uncle and my aunty Katherine, that he would actually go buy a bunch of can...