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本帖最后由 ilmj1314 于 2009-12-1 09:28 编辑
Michael Jackson Slept Here
At a difficult time in his life, the King of Pop was looking for a safe haven—and wound up at our house.
By Del Walters
On his final night in Loudoun County, Jackson hosted a gathering at the house, where he introduced his three children to the Walters family and posed with Taylor, 15, McClaine, 13, and their mother, Robin. All photographs courtesy of Del Walters
This is the story of how Michael Jackson—the King of Pop and at the time one of the world’s most wanted men—hid out at my family’s house.
Among his staff, Jackson was referred to as the Principal. In our family, he was known as the Secret—one we kept for nine days five years ago. We believed then, and do now, that not revealing Jackson’s whereabouts was the right thing to do. Now that he’s gone, I can tell why and how we did it.
It was March 2004. The previous year, Jackson had appeared on TV explaining why he believed it to be normal for adults to share their beds with children, that it was the most loving thing you could do. What he saw as innocent a Los Angeles district attorney saw as criminal. Rumors were swirling that Jackson would be indicted on charges of child molestation by an LA grand jury. The King of Pop became a subject of ridicule. Gone was the cute boy who had swooned his way into the hearts of generations. He was replaced by a man-child, a suspected pedophile.
In April 2004, Jackson was to receive an award from the African Ambassadors’ Spouses Association for his humanitarian work. But few of the journalists seeking credentials for the event cared about his work in Africa—they wanted to ask him about what had happened at Jackson’s Neverland Ranch. So a routine trip to Washington became anything but routine. Jackson needed a place to stay, and those closest to him were finding that there was no acceptable room in a Washington hotel.
The real-estate agent assigned to locate lodgings for him was running out of options. Stopping for a bite to eat, she saw the April 2004 Washingtonian. It featured a “Great Places to Live” article with me, my wife, and our two children on the cover. The story talked about how we had designed a house near Leesburg with no walls and plenty of open space. The agent knew us well enough to pick up the phone and ask whether we’d consider allowing Michael Jackson and his children to stay in our home.
What would you have done if a friend had called out of the blue and suggested that Michael Jackson might be interested in staying at your home? We first assumed she was joking. But she was serious.
On the previous Sunday, the sermon delivered by our minister, Reverend Dr. Norman A. Tate, had been about the Good Samaritan. Reverend Tate was the first person we consulted. Should we offer Michael Jackson safe haven? That night, following a lengthy family discussion and vote, we ironed out the details and began preparing for the Jackson family’s arrival.
Michael Jackson traveled with an entourage of 14. There were two cooks, three nannies, three children, personal assistants, tutors, security men, and Jackson himself. He moves in, you move out. (We stayed at a hotel.) Those who surrounded him called him the Client or the Principal. Rarely was he referred to by name. There were stretch Hummers and Suburbans that suggested a visit by a head of state—which is what our neighbors suspected.
Before he moved in, the house had to be prepared. His entourage covered all glass windows and doors. He was to have white bed linens and towels only. His favorite scent, a mountain fragrance, was sprayed everywhere and lingered for weeks after his departure.
Then, under the cover of darkness, he arrived. His private jet flew in and out of the Leesburg airport.
That evening as he moved in, we dined at a local restaurant, courtesy of the entertainer, and wondered whether he was enjoying our house as much as we did. We wondered whether he admired the views of the Blue Ridge Mountains from the deck and whether he took a stroll and noted the seven species of birds that call our acres home. Did he play the baby grand piano? Did his children frolic in the small dance studio? Would he enjoy the pool and hot tub and five acres, or would he just hole up and hide?
The next morning brought invitations for us to attend several events, including a BET reception and the African ambassadors’ reception.
Before Jackson’s arrival at the BET affair, a who’s who of Washington’s African-Amercan elite waited patiently. There were plenty of nasty remarks; some couples talked about how they wouldn’t let their children anywhere near Jackson. Then he arrived and the stampede began. Those who had ridiculed him the most were first in line.
His assistant ushered us to the front of the receiving line. We were told Jackson wanted to meet us first to thank us for allowing him and his children to use our home. He talked about the family pictures on the walls and how comfortable the place felt.
It was all very pleasant, but you could tell there was something unsettled about him. You could tell what he coveted most: He’d grown up without a childhood, and our house is filled with the kind of childhood memories money can’t buy—baptisms, first-birthday parties, family adventures.
To keep his stay at our house secret, we arrived there in the morning in time for the school bus to pick up one of our two daughters. We were always met by one of Jackson’s bodyguards dressed in all black. I finally told him that if he wanted Jackson’s presence to remain secret, he shouldn’t meet us every morning looking like Mr. T.
Reporters were in high gear searching for Jackson. We feared a media circus in our neighborhood. Our daughters, then 13 and 15, went to school each day wondering if their world would unravel.
On day eight, we were surprised Jackson wasn’t ready to leave, as the agreement had called for. That night, he arranged for a private wine-and-cheese reception at our own house so our children could meet his. He was more than gracious. While I worked, my wife and daughters were greeted by Jackson and his three kids. They spoke of childhood and normality. His children were very talkative; he was soft-spoken but playful. My wife described him as a gentle soul who obviously loved his children and they him. He also was willing to discipline his kids. He posed for pictures and agreed to autograph many things, including CDs.
By day nine, Jackson and his children were gone.
The empty wine bottles hidden around the house hinted at a man we now know was deeply tormented. There were other signs, but my wife and I have agreed they will remain secret. We knew from his representatives that Jackson tended to live nocturnally, sleeping during the day and roaming the house at night.
A visit by guests to our house now always leads to a conversation about Jackson’s visit. His picture, taken when he was standing by our baby grand piano, sits atop a table in the living room. Almost everyone sees it and wonders what it was like to talk to him and have him live in our home.
I’m always asked why I’ve never talked about Michael Jackson’s stay at our house. I say I met Jackson three times in my life—twice face to face.
Most African-Americans of my generation were introduced to a young Michael Jackson through the radio or by a friend who had one of his records. For me it was a 45-RPM played at Sonny Mason’s barbershop in my hometown of Wheeling, West Virginia.
The second encounter was in 1984 when Jackson and his brothers kicked off their Victory Tour in Kansas City. I stood out among the other reporters covering it because I didn’t appear to care about Michael Jackson the celebrity as much as I did the revenue the tour represented in the cities it visited. That night, I received two tickets to attend the concert and a private reception at Kansas City’s Arrowhead Stadium. In a receiving line for the Jacksons following the concert, I met Michael in person for the first time.
The third time was the Washington visit.
I, too, wonder why I’ve never talked before about his stay in our home. Was it because Jackson and I were the same age or the fact that, like so many African-Americans, I liked to remember the little kid from Gary, Indiana, more than I did the man with another reputation?
Perhaps, as Reverend Tate suggested, it was just the right thing to do.
As word of Michael Jackson’s death on June 25 spread, my family mourned the man we’d met not as the King of Pop but as a person trapped inside a world that was and was not of his own creation, a man who came to us through his representatives in need of a place to stay. As I sat on our deck and looked west toward the Blue Ridge Mountains, I hoped he now was seeing what I see each and every night—a perfect sunset.
该文刊登于《华盛顿》杂志2009年8月号
当他处于困境时，曾经试图寻找某个避风港--他在我们家暂住过。
他呆在劳登县的最后一晚，杰克逊作东让大家齐聚一堂，他介绍了自己的3个孩子给沃尔特斯一家认识,并且和15岁的泰勒，13岁的麦克琳，还有他们的妈妈罗宾一起合了影,这些照片都是由戴尔.沃尔特斯拍的。
这是一个关于这位世界上最受瞩目的流行天王迈克尔.杰克逊怎么在我家避世的故事。
在他的员工眼里，杰克逊是老大。在我家里，他是神秘人物--一位我们为之保守了5年零9天的秘密的神秘人物。我们那时候相信的和现在做的，不是在揭示他的行踪，我可以说出原因并且讲明我们曾经是怎么做的。
那是2004年3月的时候，去年杰克逊在电视上出现并且解释为什么成人和小孩睡一起是人之常情，那是一件很正常，很愉快的事。但他认为很正常的事却被洛杉矶地方检查官认为有罪。谣言满天飞，而杰克逊很可能被洛杉矶大陪审团定为有罪。这位流行天王变成了笑柄，这位曾经在几代人心里的可爱的男子形象已经消失了，他被冠上了疑似恋童癖的罪名。
在2004年4月，杰克逊本来应该获得一个非州大使馆婚姻协会授予的人道主义奖，但极少有陪审人员过问他为非州人民所做的事，他们想问的只有他到底在“neverland"庄园干过什么？所以前往华盛顿成了例行的事情。杰克逊需要一个地方歇息一下，离他最近的任何一个华盛顿宾馆都没有他所需要的空间。
他的本地接待员为了给他找一个合适的地方而疲于奔波，她停下来吃东西的时候看现了2004年4月华盛顿杂志。它刊载着我的文章“便于居住的好地方”，我的妻子，还有封面上我的2个孩子。然后关于李斯堡附近的那间没有墙，有足够的开放空间的房屋设计的故事开始了。这个经纪人跟我们很熟，在电话里问我们是否同意让杰克逊和他的孩子们在我们家住。
如果有朋友突然拜访并且建议迈克尔.杰克逊呆在你家里会怎么样？我们开始以为她在开玩笑，但她却是很认真的。
在上周日，我们的部长送来了诺曼牧师,泰特博士的慈善说教的消息，泰勒牧师是我们第一个咨询的人，我们应该为迈克尔.杰克逊提供住所吗？那晚，随着漫长的家庭协商和投票过程，我们终于决定迎接杰克逊一家的到来。
迈克尔.杰克逊一行14人：2个厨师，3个保姆，3个孩子，私人助理，教师，保安和他自己。他进来，你就得出去（我们呆在一家宾馆里），他身边的人都把他当成客人或者老大。很少叫名字。我们的邻居怀疑是某个国家的首脑来旅游了。
他进来之前屋里就得收拾好。他的工作人员关上了所有的玻璃窗和门，他只用白色床单和毛巾，屋里到处都薰着他最爱的香味，一直到他离开。
然后，在黑暗笼罩下，他到了。私人飞机抵达后降落在李斯堡机场外面。
那晚由于他要住进来，我们在当地一家餐厅吃的饭，我们谈着这位艺术家，猜测他会对我们布置的房子满意吗？会对能从甲板远眺蓝岭山脉的景色满意吗？他会在散步时注意到在我们农场叫的那7种鸟类吗？他会不会弹奏那台小钢琴？他的孩子们在那间小小的舞蹈室玩耍吗？他会喜欢那个水池，热水浴缸，和那5个农场吗？或者他只是躲起来过一夜？
第二天早上我们被邀请去参加几个节目，包括一场赌场接待和非洲大使馆的接待。
在杰克逊到达赌场之前，一名华盛顿有名的非洲裔名流耐心地等着。那里弥漫着讨厌的言论，有些夫妇在谈论如何才能让孩子们远离杰克逊。当他到达的时候，这些人开始散了，最先开始说他坏话的人走得最快。
他的助理在接待处迎接我们，我们被告知杰克逊首先想感谢的就是我们借了房子给他和孩子们住，他谈论着墙上的家庭照片，这些照片让他感觉很舒服。
一切都让人很满意，但你可能会说他有未解决的事。比如他最想隐藏的信息:他没有童年生活，我们的房子充满着用钱也买不来的童趣-1周岁生日聚会，家庭冒险经历纪录。
为了让他在我们家住得更隐秘，我们早上才按时到家里接2个女儿去上学，我们常常碰到穿着一身黑的杰克逊的保安，最后我们告诉他如果想要保证杰克逊先生的隐秘，他不应该每天早上都像T先生似的来迎接我们。
记者们正在全力寻找杰克逊的踪迹，我们很害怕邻居里有媒体人员，我们的女儿，当时分别13岁和15岁，每天上学的时候总是猜测他们会被发现的。
第八天的时候，我们很奇怪杰克逊还没准备离开，因为协议上面写的是那天晚上离开，他在我们家安排了一个私人的葡萄酒和奶酪的宴会，这样我们的孩子就可以和他的孩子们在一起。他很优雅，我在工作的时候，杰克逊跟我的妻子和女儿们打了招呼，他们谈着童年和一些常见的话题，他的孩子们非常健谈，杰克逊说话很温柔但很风趣。我的妻子形容说他有着绅士的灵魂并且非常爱他的孩子们，孩子们也很爱他。他也很会管教孩子，他摆好姿势照了相并且在很多东西，包括cd上面签了名。
第9天，杰克逊和孩子们离开了。
那些藏在房子周围的空酒瓶让我们发现了一些蛛丝马迹，我们现在觉得他当时受了很大的折磨。还有其它一些信息，但我的妻子和我相约会保守秘密。我们从他的发言人处知道杰克逊每天白天时睡觉，晚上出来溜达。
现在到我们家的客人们总是会谈到杰克逊来访的话题，他站在我们的小钢琴旁，坐在起居室桌子上照的照片。每个人都想知道当他住在我们家里时跟他谈了些什么？
我经常被问及为什么不告诉他们杰克逊在我家里时谈的话题，我说我一生中就和他碰了3次面，其中2次是面对面的。
我们这一代的大多数非洲裔美国人认识杰克逊都是通过收音机，或者拥有他的某张唱片的朋友的介绍，对我来说，他就是一碟45转速的在弗吉尼亚西部威灵的索尼.梅尔森理发店播放的唱片。
第二次见面是在1984年杰克逊和他的兄弟们到堪萨斯举行胜利演唱会时，我和其他记者一起站在前列，并不是因为我很关注迈克尔.杰克逊，我关注的是他到这个城市来演出所带来的收入。那晚，我收到2张参加演唱会的门票并且在箭头广场受到私人接待。我站在欢迎队列里为他们的到来而欢呼，这是我第一次见他的情况。
第三次就是华盛顿之旅。
我也疑惑为什么在他来我家之前没有和他交谈过？是因为我和他同岁吗或者跟其他非洲裔美国人一样的原因吗？我喜欢回忆这名来自加里市的男子的儿童时期比他成年后更多吗？
或者，如泰特牧师所说，那是对的。
对于迈克尔.杰克逊6月25日的去世，我们一家都为他默哀，不是因为他的流行天王的身份，而是为了他在这个世界不由自主地遭受的困境，一位需要我们帮助借宿的男子。我坐在甲板上往西眺望着蓝岭山脉，希望他每天也能看见我眼前的日落美景。
翻译：aliceleng
视频提供：tanclaudia |
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发表于 2009-11-30 23:00:34
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发表于 2009-11-30 23:03:54
