Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Thursday, 13 August 2009
Friday, 26 June 2009
King of Pop Michael Jackson passed away
The 50-year-old self-proclaimed “King of Pop” died of suspected cardiac arrest as he was about to launch a major comeback with a string of 50 concerts in London.
It comes 25 years after the death of another Motown alumnus, Marvin Gaye, who was also on the comeback trail. Gaye was shot to death by his father in a domestic dispute.
Jackson rose to fame as the youngest member of the Jackson 5, a group that Motown founder Berry Gordy was initially reluctant to sign. “He didn’t want any more kid acts because Stevie Wonder was more than a handful,” said former Motown executive Suzanne de Passe, who lobbied Gordy to sign them.
De Passe toured extensively with the Jackson 5, taking charge of their costumes, schooling, choreography and concert production. “Michael was very mischievous back in those days,” de Passe said, recalling that he loved to hide in closets and behind doors to scare unsuspecting targets. She dubbed him “Casper,” and when she saw him decades later mobbed by fans, she yelled out “Casper!” and Jackson immediately rushed over to give her a hug.
Jackson left Motown for the greener pastures of Epic Records in 1979, and de Passe said she last spoke to him about three years ago. She was on a retreat when she heard of Jackson’s death, and described the news as “the shock of my life.”
Until Thursday, Gaye was probably Motown’s highest-profile casualty. The tortured soul’s career was marked by drugs, divorce, label disputes and bankruptcy. Drugs, poverty, suicide and murder claimed many other Motown figures. A year before Gaye was killed, virtuoso bass player James Jamerson died in obscurity. A raging alcoholic who played on Gaye’s landmark 1971 album “What’s Going On,” Jamerson has since been deified by aficionados.
Other ill-fated stars include:
– Roger Penzabene, the co-writer of the Temptations’ mournful masterpiece “I Wish It Would Rain,” committed suicide in 1967.
– Hard-partying drummer Benny Benjamin, the backbeat of the Motown sound, was silenced by a stroke in 1969 after battling drugs and alcohol.
– Temptations co-founder Paul Williams, the heart of the group and lead singer on “Don’t Look Back,” turned to alcohol and was eventually unable to perform. Two years after quitting, he shot himself dead in 1973, while sitting in a car parked two blocks from Motown.
– Another troubled former Temptation David Ruffin, who sang lead on “My Girl,” died of a drug overdose in 1991.
– Early Motown star Mary Wells of “My Guy” fame died in 1992 of throat cancer. She endured poverty in her dying days, as did former Supreme Florence Ballard, who succumbed to a coronary thrombosis in 1976.
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
I Dream Of Dying Every Night
Dear God,
I dream of dying every night, but the dream keeps on going… then I wake up. When will you come get me? I feel like these dreams are horrible teases.
Why u have taken her life !! ?
Dear God,
One of us never got to grow up.
I dreamed that I saw her again a while back, and when I woke up my pillow was wet, because I cried tears. Real tears as she hugged me in the dream and said it was all a misunderstanding. Tears of happiness. She was an amazing girl, loved by many. But she never had the chance to become an adult.She died at the age of 17 with her dad. Her life was lost in an event that took 300,000 peoples lives. The Indian Ocean Tsunami of 2004.
I pray for all of them. But especially for her. I miss her.
There Was No Reason For You To Take His Life
Dear God,
You took my brother’s baby. It was cruel and horrible and painful and I don’t understand.
Nine months of the most perfect pregnancy. The day before she went into labor everything was fine; the doctor said it was just a matter of waiting. They were so excited, Lord. They’d read every book—and while some people may think they have, you know it was true in this instance. That’s just how they are.
You know he called me as soon as the contractions started. He kept careful count. He was so excited, and you know how he is, so stoic and quiet. But he couldn’t keep the joy from his voice—he was going to meet his son! And meet him he did. I saw the photos last night.
I saw that beautiful little baby boy in some sort of adorable macabre grandeur. I saw him dressed in the tiny blue outfit Mom bought him (her first grandchild!), clutching a teddy bear to his chest. His eyes were closed as if in slumber. But it was a lie. Andrew will never squirm and dream in that crib amidst a lingering scent of baby powder. He looked so peaceful and perfect in the pictures. Oh, how those photos deceive.
That beautiful little boy rested in his mother’s arms, her devoted husband holding her. It was picturesque. But I saw their faces, God. Grief and shock and utter despair. They had to hold their perfect little child—their baby boy—in their arms and know he’d never take a breath on Earth, never feel their embrace, never cry, never smile, never take a first step, never look upon their loving faces.
And the doctors can’t even tell them why. It just happened. There’s just no reason, they say. They’re right. There was no reason for you to take his life.
Did you see us remove the car seat from the car and hide it in the trunk today? Brother didn’t want her to be reminded. It’s silly, really. How do you forget holding your dead infant son in your arms?
And were you there when I looked upon the tiniest blue urn that was filled with the ashes of my only nephew? The nephew I’ll never hold or spoil or be the “crazy aunt” to. But I still got to love him—you can’t take that from me. You took him just like you took my stepsister’s child. Remember Tyler? Only 14, a great athlete, the whole world at his feet? Maybe Andrew and Tyler have met now. But I’m not sure I believe in Heaven anymore. At least not a Heaven filled with the souls of innocent children.
Brother would’ve been a great father—a bit overprotective perhaps, but great. Remember how he took care of my little brother and me when dad left? He was only eight years old then. Remember how he made us dinner and played games and told me there was no reason to be scared of the dark? And how he hatched that brilliant plan to stay up all night so I could finally see Santa Claus and not quit believing? He tried so hard to make my childhood last longer than his.
And Lord, you know how smart he is. PhD at 26, traveling the world talking about his research, fixing anything and everything without even a manual. He’s a genius. You know he’s hid behind his books all these years, but he’s so much more than smarts. People may look at him and see brains and computers and calculations, but he’s my big brother. He taught me how to fix a toilet, unclog a pipe and change my oil so I wouldn’t be one of those “clueless girls.” He giggles after a couple beers, eats entire pineapples, takes things apart just to see how they work, spoils his cats, and worships his wife.
And although she might have thought we were a little strange at first, his wife is an amazing woman with a strength I’ll never know. She takes board games a little too seriously, yes, but she goes through a book a day just like he does and she looks at my brother in a way I hope to truly understand one day. Oh, God, how she loved that baby! She took prenatal vitamins, gave up her favorite Starbucks coffee, quit eating seafood, exercised, and read every baby book out there. Just like brother said at the service today: “She did everything right.”
But that wasn’t enough.
God, you had her deliver a baby that she knew would never laugh or cry or see her or know her or love her. She was told her baby was dead, but you still put her through the pain of labor, knowing no crying baby would emerge. The only cries she heard were her own.
I’ve never seen my big brother cry, Lord. He’s the strongest man I know. But he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed for a child he’ll never know. It broke me, God. If anyone understands innocent suffering, it’s you, right? Why would you take Andrew from them after all this?After all our family has been through already? Andrew was going to be born into the kind of family we always wanted. A happy mother, a devoted father. He was going to have it all! But now he’s just ashes. He’s in a tiny urn, inside a velvet box, clutched to the chest of a sobbing woman and her husband who can’t be strong any longer.
I bet he had blue eyes just like his Mom and Dad.
One Day I Hope To Understand Your Reasons
Dear God,
Watch over her parents. As much as I feel the grief of losing her I can’t begin to imagine the loss that they have felt. Now they have lost both of their children… lost the hope and dreams they held so dear for them… lost the sense of family that they had together. I want to hold her again, see her smile… but more than that I want them to do the same so that they can know that she is isn’t really gone and walks with them just as You do. One day I hope to understand your reasons.from my love Priya(Hyd)
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