Jacko, His Rise and Fall: The Social and Sexual History of Michael Jackson (9 page)

"Thanks, dearie," West said. "The impersonators always do me."

"You couldn't have made a wiser choice than the two of us," Liberace
said.

Michael, of course, never became another Liberace and certainly not
another Mae West. But he passed his interest in West onto his younger sister,
Janet, who in the future would deliver a brilliant impersonation of the fading
star.

After his secret visit with two of the biggest legends in show business, it
was back to work for Michael.

Michael's single, "Got to Be There," was released by Motown in 1970, following in the wake of the hit solo album by Donny Osmond, Michael's
main competitor with young white girls. Michael later called it his "real breakthrough song; it was the one that said, `I'm here to stay!"'

Even though some Motown brass, including Gordy himself, feared that
the song would fail, it, like the previous three singles, zoomed to number one
on the charts, staying there for five weeks. "Got to Be There" was a ballad,
and had "tender soul," in the words of one reviewer. Gordy liked the record
but feared it wasn't a sound the public wanted to hear coming from the throat
of Michael.

Michael's solo debut sparked jealousy among his brothers, especially
Jermaine. A love song, it sold some 1'/z million copies. "It showed the world
that Michael could do it on his own," Gordy said. "I felt he could be a big star
just like Diana became when she broke from The Supremes. It must have sent
a fright through his brothers, deflating their perpetual hard-ons." A month or
so went by, but "Got to Be There" scored a bull's eye when Cash Box named
it their number one hit.

One Motown executive claimed that "the Jackson brothers, especially that
talented little Michael, in spite of his being a bit girlish, had become a meal
ticket for Katherine and Papa Joe. He couldn't make it on his own as a musician, but he was living like a fat cat off his sons. He didn't relax either. He
wanted more and more, and pushed his sons even harder than he had done in
Gary. Michael had been out there on that stage shaking his ass since he was
five years old. He was deprived of a childhood. I'm sure the experience ruined
his life, as subsequent scandals proved."

In 1972, Michael used this hit song as the title of his first ever album, "Got
to Be There," which also included "Rockin' Robin" and "Ain't No Sunshine."
Sales were a modest 355,000 albums, although Gordy at Motown had anticipated a larger volume.

The Jackson 5 went on the road to promote their special sound and even
broke attendance records at the Los Angeles Forum, selling almost 20,000
tickets. That night Michael did not endear himself to The Beatles, when he
introduced "The Love You Save" as: "Here it is, the tune that knocked The
Beatles out of number one." Even so, Michael and Paul McCartney would
later become friends, then enemies.

Although their music was different, The Jackson 5 evoked The Beatles in
the hysteria and pandemonium they caused on the road. One policeman in Los
Angeles said, "The problem with The Jackson 5 was keeping them from being
trampled to death. Kids pushed and shoved. If one of them fell to the ground,
they were practically crushed under foot."

When The Jackson 5 stayed at a hotel, the manager had to double security. Young girls or even young women tried to break into their bedrooms, using any ruse or disguise. Often these impressionable fans pretended to be maids.
Even the hotel's legitimate maids would steal the jockey shorts of the boys,
not necessarily for themselves but to sell to fetish collectors. If a piss stain or
a "skid mark" remained on the underwear, so much the better.

The Jackson 5 launched 1971 with a hit single, "Mama's Pearl," a return
to bubblegum. Michael was extremely disappointed that after four number one
hits, their latest release peaked at number two. Gordy told the brothers, "This
is predictable. There's always next time."

Early in the year, the brothers made a sentimental visit back to Gary. Fans
lined the streets of their old neighborhood, as their black limousine pulled up
at 2300 Jackson Street, a thoroughfare which had carried that name long
before the Jackson family ever made the address famous. After all the grand
mansions they'd seen, their family home looked like a small hovel. Outside on
the lawn, the neighbors had posted a big sign: WELCOME HOME, JACKSONS. KEEPERS OF THE DREAM.

That same year marked the biggest touring months ever for the brothers,
as they played 45 cities that summer, plus another 50 cities before Christmas,
an amazing feat. Wherever they went, they were hailed as "The Black
Beatles." Berry was overheard telling associates at Motown: "Every time
these brothers take a shit, gold nuggets drop out of their assholes!"

When they played Milwaukee, they attracted 115,000 fans to their concert. At New York's Madison Square Garden, all tickets to hear The Jackson
5 disappeared two weeks before they hit town. The night the brothers opened
in New York, their show was disrupted after
only ten minutes. According to The New York
Daily News, "the barriers protecting the stage
were smashed like so many pieces of kindling
before the idol-crazed charge of pre-teen and
teenage girls. Order had to be restored before
the Jacksons could finish the concert."

Donny Osmond

As the 1970s dawned, Joe Jackson - the
ultimate "stage father from Hell," as he was
called - took pride in his accomplishments.
All the beatings, all the rehearsals, all the terrorizing of his sons, had not made them love
him. But he'd fine tuned the lavish talent of
his sons. He had no regrets about his history
of violence toward his children. "If I had it to
do over again, I'd do it the same way," he
said. "I don't want to brag, but looking at the
kids, I think I've done a good job. It was hard, but it sure paid off."

In spite of their hysterical touring schedule, the brothers had time in 1971
to release two albums for Motown: The Third Album, featuring the hit record
"I'll Be There," and Maybe Tomorrow, with such hit singles as "Never Can
Say Goodbye."

The actor and composer Clifton Davis wrote "Never Can Say Goodbye."
Unknown to Michael at the time, Davis would later become a key player in a
faux scandal with Michael that would sweep the nation and cause consternation among Jacko's fans.

"With their gaudy, psychedelic clothes, their trendy Afros, and their love
beads, I thought The Jackson 5 was a hoot," said critic David Breen. "I gave
them about eighteen months before they faded into oblivion. I saw no staying
power in the group at all. Michael came across as a little faggy, and I thought
he'd be too effeminate when he matured. In a way, I was right. But what I didn't understand was that the world was changing. Macho would not always prevail. Johnny Mathis wasn't the most masculine of men - and there were
rumors - but he did all right. That `Stormy Weather' was a great hit. But the
funniest act in show biz was Michael himself imitating Mathis doing `Stormy
Weather. "'

Even though he was only at the dawn of puberty, some press members
were writing that Michael was "androgynous." One writer claimed that "the
first time I ever heard Michael Jackson sing, I thought he was a young girl. I
still think that. Except he grew up to become a woman." Such press put-downs
of Michael and rampant speculation about his ambiguous sexuality would in
time become media fodder.

Although Berry, a black man, was one of the sharpest judges of pop music
in the business, he failed to see the appeal of a new group, sometimes called
the "white Jacksons"-that is, the Osmond brothers. This group originated in
the closing year of the Eisenhower presidency as a barbershop quartet. By the
Kennedy era, they were a regular feature on The Andy Williams Show.

George Osmond, the father of the brood, submitted a song to Gordy but
was turned down. Eventually Osmond signed with MGM Records. With the
baby of the family, Donny Osmond, imitating Michael's high-pitched voice
and sound, the record, "One Bad Apple," became a megahit. Papa Joe went
ballistic when he first heard the Osmonds. "They're stealing our act! Those little Goodie Two Shoes with their small white dicks!" He was furious at Berry
for turning down "One Bad Apple," feeling it would have been an ideal record
for his sons to record.

Executives at MGM Records plotted to launch the "lilywhite Osmonds"
in direct competition to The Jackson 5. The word went out to promote Donny
Osmond, then only thirteen years old, as a direct challenger to Michael.

Not to be outdone, Berry began to prepare a number of solo releases for
Michael to put on the market. "Michael had so much more talent than Donny
Osmond - and was so much cuter," a fan, Betty Barkin, said. "At first I loved
the Osmonds and had a big crush on Donny, but Michael won my heart. I
came to feel that the Osmonds were vanilla, Michael and his brothers chocolate - and I've always gone for chocolate."

The upcoming year, 1972, would see the music market saturated with
Michael Jackson singles. His brothers, especially Jermaine, were very envious. "It's called sibling rivalry," Gordy said, pointing out the obvious.

On the road, Michael shared a room with Jermaine, perhaps the most sexual of his brothers, although Jackie too was known as a "ladies man." Disputes
and jealousies would eventually drive Jermaine and Michael apart, but they
nevertheless bonded together as boys.

Four years older than Michael, Jermaine was a sexual opportunist, as has
been reported by many of the people who knew and worked with him on the
road. At this point, Michael may have been too young to even know what his
sexual proclivities were, but he learned his lessons in sex first hand from
observing Jermaine.

In his startling 1994 biography published by Simon & Schuster,
Christopher Andersen reported on an explosive claim made by Johnny
Jackson. Johnny was called a "cousin" and originally had played drums with
the Jackson brothers. "He shared our name but not our blood," Katherine said.
Johnny reportedly told the chief of Steeltown Records, Gordon Keith, that
he'd once walked in on a male relative of the Jackson family, catching him
"sexually aroused" with Michael, who was only twelve years old at the time.
The older relative, who was
allegedly molesting young
Michael, was not named. Of
course, "evidence" such as this,
even though reported in a book by
one of the nation's leading publishers, must still be considered
hearsay.

Jackson 5

Unlike many stars, Michael
has never claimed that he was
molested as a boy. He has been
enigmatic in his responses,
although on more than one occasion he has held out the possibility, without any definitive confirmation, that he was indeed molested. At this point, the truth may never be known.

What really happened while the Jackson brothers were touring together on
the road has now become the stuff of legend, as various people have come forward with tantalizing stories. In his vanilla whitewash and boring so-called
autobiography, Moonwalk, Michael portrays life on the road as harmless fun
- "pillow fights, tag-team wrestling matches, shaving cream wars, you name
it."

A favorite pastime for the boys was dropping balloons and paper bags
filled with water off hotel balconies to burst onto innocent pedestrians below,
giving them an unexpected shower.

In a rare confession, Michael did admit spying on women while they were
on the toilet. In various clubs and chitlin' circuits in which he appeared, male
performers would often cut or drill little holes as a means of looking into
women's dressing rooms or else their toilets. "You could peek through one of
these holes," Michael said. He admitted that he did. "I saw stuff I've never forgotten," he confessed, but left out mention of what kind of "stuff' he witnessed.

Michael's most notorious peep-hole vision occurred when the group was
performing in London. One of his brothers urged him to "get a look at this!"
Peering through the hole, Michael saw a vision of a completely nude Carol
Charming.