Joe Vogel: Gone Too Soon—Many Laments of Michael Jackson’s Lives
“Gone Too Soon: Many Laments of Michael Jackson’s Lives” is the title of an article that Joe Vogel wrote some time ago on the anniversary of the King of Pop’s death:
“Gone Too Soon” was written in mourning for great people who are no longer with us. Michael read it as a tribute to a friend, and three years ago this song was revived in his own mourning.
When three years ago, on this very day, Michael Jackson passed away, the song Gone Too Soon took on a new meaning. Usher performed it at the memorial service. The song had been written by Jackson years before he even sang it, and in the end it became something that, following such bitter and painful events, finally came to life.
This is the story of a song that has been reborn again and again in the mourning of beloved people who have been lost.
It was past midnight on Sunday when the phone at the priest’s house (Alan “Buz” Kohan) rang out in alarm. A voice on the other end whispered: “I’m sorry—did I wake you? Is this still the house?”
The voice belonged to Michael Jackson. The man who was riding the waves of success—success that had never been seen like it before—was sweeping across the world. That month (February 1983), Jackson had become the cover star of Rolling Stone magazine. “Beat It” was taking the top spot on the charts from “Billie Jean,” his clips were being played nonstop on MTV, and “Thriller” was disappearing from store shelves like bread off the rack.
It was that same Buz Kohan again. A well-known television producer and writer, known mostly for the texts he wrote for award ceremonies and various shows, including Motown 25.
Jackson had first met him up close when he was 12 years old. Buz lived nearby, on Beautiful Beaumont Street in Encino. He was a seasoned figure in the entertainment industry. They became good friends. Jackson would search for answers to his endless questions about people like Bing Crosby, Gene Kelly, Sammy Davis, and Fred Astaire—calling them “the greats.” Later, close collaboration between the two took shape in Las Vegas to create the Jackson family’s variety show.
“We should make a few songs.” That was the suggestion Jackson gave him as a teenager. After that, they rolled up their sleeves, and their collaboration—resulting in songs like Scared of the Moon and You Were There—continued for two decades after that.
Rhea, Buz’s wife, had gotten used to Jackson’s late-night calls: “Just a moment,” and then she handed the phone to her husband. That night, Jackson had called about a particular song. That same day, he had watched Dionne Warwick’s heartfelt tribute performance of a friend on a television special called Here’s Television Entertainment. The program was dedicated to showmen who had died far too soon—including John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Sam Cooke. But in those days, the bitterness of the loss was felt even more, because Karen Carpenter had passed away only a few days earlier at age 32.
[eMJey: Janis Joplin, a symbol of women’s independence in the 1960s (died: October 1970), along with Jimi Hendrix, the father of the electric guitar (died: September 1970), and Jim Morrison, the singer of The Doors (died: July 1971). Due to the letter J at the beginning of their first names and their relatively similar deaths—linked to drugs/psychedelics, all around age 27 and within only a few months—these three formed the tragic and legendary “Three j’s” of 1960s rock music.]
On that program, Warwick had said: “There are certain singers who carry the energy of their era with them. They become symbols or signs of their generation. They remind us of our laziness and our need to be together. Tonight, unanswered questions are swirling in our minds—questions that come to us whenever a talented person leaves life before their time: Why? What if? What happened?”
Warwick performed a powerful song written by Buz Kohan and Larry Grossman. The song was called Gone Too Soon.
Jackson said he was crying while watching the show. He had grown up with the music of The Carpenters. Their songs formed part of his DNA. But that so-called song was deeper than that, and he connected with it.
That night, Jackson told Buz that he felt he should one day sing this song. Buz said: “Whenever you want, it’s yours.” In the following months, other projects came to fruition, including the clips for Beat It and Thriller. Here and there, at parties and charity events, Gone Too Soon was sung in someone’s memory for any occasion. After Warwick, Patti LaBelle and Donna Summer also sang it, but a studio recording of the song never happened.
Years later, in 1990, Buz and Jackson were busy talking on the phone when Jackson mentioned a young boy named Ryan White, whom he was friends with. Jackson said: “He won’t live for long. I want to do something special for him.” Ryan had become a face of AIDS at a time when the disease was still considered unknown, shameful, and frightening.
A typical child from Kokomo, Indiana (who suffered from hemophilia) had contracted AIDS after receiving contaminated blood. His classmates and the community shunned him, mocked him, bullied him, and even used violence against him. Students called him “trash” and treated him like a leper. Members of the church refused to accept him, and neighbors canceled their newspaper subscriptions because he delivered them. In the end, he was forced to leave middle school.
When Jackson heard Ryan’s story, he reached out to him for help and support. Soon they became close friends. Both of them knew what it meant to be different, and they had the chance to experience normalcy side by side. Over the next months, phone calls between them were often the main connection. Ryan was a very thoughtful, articulate, and blossoming teenager. He knew many people hated and feared him. He understood that a social duty had been placed on his shoulders—and he also knew he would die soon.
Jackson remembered that once, at the back of the living room table, he had listened to Ryan White as Ryan talked about the way he wanted his own funeral to be carried out for his mother. Jackson recalled during his interview with Rabbi Shmueli Butique:
“Ryan said, ‘Mom, when I die, don’t dress me in a suit and tie. I don’t want a suit and tie. Put me in jeans and a T-shirt.’ I told them I had to go to the bathroom. I ran over there and cried as much as I could.’”
Jackson knew he couldn’t change Ryan’s fate, but he hoped he could provide him with a chance to escape this world and enjoy life before the time came.
Ryan and his family traveled to Neverland (Michael’s dream ranch) again and again. There they rode the carousel, ate pizza, and watched Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade in a private cinema. Ryan later said: “These trips helped me keep going.”
Not long after, Jackson bought Ryan’s dream car—a red Mustang—and gave it to him as a birthday present. Only a few months later, on April 8, 1990, Ryan White died.
The next day, Jackson was in Indiana. He sat for hours in Ryan’s empty room, looking at what remained of him—his clothes and his photos. Then he said:
“I don’t know why children die. I really don’t understand.”
Ryan’s mother, Jane, told Jackson he could take whatever he wanted as a keepsake, but Jackson asked her to keep the room exactly as it was.
In the front yard, the red Mustang Jackson had given Ryan was parked, covered with flowers sent by well-wishers. Andra, Ryan’s sister, got into the car with Jackson. When the engine started, the song “Man in the Mirror” filled the air. It was the last song Ryan listened to before he died.
When Buz Kohan heard the news of Ryan’s death, he asked Paul Seurrat, who was responsible for maintaining and archiving Jackson’s videos, to mix the footage of Jackson and Ryan with a version of Gone Too Soon sung by Dionne Warwick.
Soon after, Jackson called Buz: “It’s amazing. I love it.” Jackson had promised Ryan he would feature him in his next video clip, but he didn’t have time. Jackson thought that instead, he would make a video and dedicate it to Ryan. He was committed to: “I want the world to know you.” Jackson told Buz: “But there’s one thing. I won’t cover other people’s songs. Has anyone recorded this song?” Buz’s answer was no: “The song has been sung, but it hasn’t been recorded. We call these ‘Bashert’ (in Judaism: a destined spouse, the missing half). Fate decided it. This song was waiting for you.”
A few months later, Buz was present at Ocean Way Studios, where Jackson was recording the song. As usual, when Jackson sang, he darkened the room so he could immerse himself in the music. Buz sat in the control room next to the recording engineer, Bruce Swedien. Hearing Michael’s voice made the hair on his arms stand up. The lyrics were written to depict the beauty, instability, and fragility of a life. With the voice of an ordinary singer, it could easily have been dragged into cliché and cheapness. But Jackson wasn’t an ordinary singer. “He poured his soul into this song,” Buz remembered. “There was no exaggeration or showmanship—his feelings were real.”
Gone Too Soon became the 13th track out of 14 on the Dangerous album (1991), and on the first day of December 1993—on World AIDS Day—it was released as a single. Jackson also performed the song at the Bill Clinton presidential celebration, with the aim of introducing Ryan White and attracting financial and political support to advance scientific research on AIDS.
Before singing, he said:
“I want to take this opportunity and in this public celebration, speak about something very private. It’s about a very dear friend of mine who is no longer among us. His name is Ryan White. He was infected with the AIDS virus at age 11 and died shortly after his 18th birthday, at a time when most young people are just beginning to search for the miracle of life. My friend Ryan was a smart, brave, and very normal young man, and he never wanted to be a symbol of a deadly disease. Over these years, I experienced many ridiculous, happy, and painful moments with him, and at the end of his short but eventful journey, I was there beside him. Ryan is gone, and like every other person who has lost a loved one to AIDS, I will miss him forever. He’s gone, but I want his life after death to keep its meaning.”
When Jackson died at his home on June 25, 2009, Gone Too Soon found new importance. He was 50 years old. Three years after that date, the words he gave life to with his unique voice and inimitable essence still echo. Maybe this song will be sung again.
Source: eMJey.com / The Atlantic