Cologne | November 3, 1995
When I step off the bus, I look up at the sky with concern. It seems like it might rain. I have no idea where I’m supposed to go, so I follow the others. We walk onto an elevated walkway that disappears into a tunnel. Inside the tunnel, everyone suddenly stops. Only now do I realize that from this raised path we have an ideal view and we’re also staying dry. A little nervously, I take my place against the railing, squeezed in between my friends.
Slowly, the cars begin to approach us inside the tunnel, their speed decreasing. I don’t know which car to look at, so I start waving at all of them. Just when I think they will simply drive past, the sunroof of the middle car opens. It feels as if a storm is breaking loose; people were already shouting loudly, but now the sound becomes deafening. And still, nothing is visible yet.
From this moment on, everything seems to move in slow motion. I am frozen to the ground, gripping the railing tightly that separates me from the cars. This is the moment I have been looking forward to for so long. I can’t hear anything anymore and I am completely focused on the person who emerges through the sunroof.
He is wearing a black hat and a red shirt. The first thing I notice is that he is slight in build and not taller than I am. He waves at us enthusiastically. Suddenly he ducks back inside the car, only to return with a large bouquet of white flowers. He starts throwing parts of the bouquet toward us. All of this happens in what I think is less than two minutes. I have completely lost my sense of time.
Completely astonished, I walk along with the fans in the direction the cars disappear. My mind is racing. How is it possible that this man has so much influence? It is clearly not just his music and dancing—it is something more, but what? Something you cannot capture in photographs or on television. It is intangible, and I realize that this intangible quality has also taken hold of me. It fascinates me.
Before I stood in this tunnel, I had placed him on a pedestal, but he did not meet my expectations at all. There is a softness about him, and a love I had never seen before. I would even call him vulnerable. He enjoyed what was happening and loved every single person present there intensely.
Suddenly, a man stands next to me and places something in my hand. “From Michael,” he says, but there is too much happening around me to see what it is.
When I come back to myself a little, I notice the sun has come out. Smiling, I wonder whether that is always the case wherever Michael appears.
Michael, I embraced you in my heart at a young age. Your exceptional talent moved many people in the world, including me. You gave your love to everyone, and I am deeply grateful that I was able to catch even a small piece of it. I will, in turn, pass it on, so that you continue to live forever.
Siona
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