Thrill of my Life

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“Wow,” was all I could say and feel. People sometimes say, “There are no words to describe this moment,” and in this instant, I had never agreed more. I bent down to touch it, was it really in front of me? I had to wait as other people took a picture with it, but when it was my turn, I almost burst into tears. I rubbed my hands all over it, and kissed the very center. What was I reacting so passionately to? Michael Jackson’s star on the Walk of Fame in Hollywood, California. One might say that I was overreacting; it was just a star on the ground, with his name engraved in gold in the center. To me, however, it was so much more. I felt as if I was seeing him, despite the fact that he was deceased. His feet had walked around the same exact place I was currently standing. He was there, during the prime of his career, and he himself had touched the star as it was placed in front of the famous Chinese theater.

Lets rewind about six weeks back. It was June 25th, 2009, and I was getting ready for my middle school graduation. In my excitement, I had gotten dressed far too early, and had to sit and wait for the time to pass. I did what any other teenager living in 2009 would do- I got out my laptop so I could log on to Facebook. My home page was on Yahoo! and I noticed something interesting. A headline titled ‘Michael Jackson: In Cardiac Arrest’ grabbed my attention. I had never truly known who Michael Jackson was, so while I felt bad about his cardiac arrest, this news did not affect me so much. I told my parents in the car. As a doctor, my father knew that it was highly unlikely that Jackson would survive. I was surprised to witness my mother crying nonstop about the new and I foolishly made fun of her. Knowing what I know now, as I lo...

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... his ankles. White socks peaked over the tops of his patent leather shoes. He tucked a white shirt into the pants and a sparkly black jacket rested loosely on his body. A fedora was placed on top of his head. The man looked over at me and winked, then pushed his fedora down to cover his eyes, the way Jackson did before performing his famous, ‘Billie Jean’ routine. I smiled softly and looked to my mother, who, as all tourists did, held a camera case around her neck and a light pink camera in her hands. I wrapped my arm around Sophie, my younger sister’s, small shoulders; keeping in mind that Michael Jackson valued family. Sophie followed my lead, just as she has her whole life, and we smiled in unison as the camera clicked. We stood up to leave and my eyes welled with tears. I looked back, trying to find the man who had winked at me, but he had faded into the crowd.
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