I saw her. I swear to God.
I was driving down the alley between Roosevelt High School and the Jackson family homestead at 2300 Jackson when I saw Kathryn Jackson, the mother of Michael and Janet and LeToya, et. al.
I had finished my shift at the Post-Trib and decided, on a whim, to drive by the Jackson house in Gary because it was the day before the the one-year anniversary of Michael's death.
After turning down the road that separates 'Velt and the Jackson house, I saw a distinguished women step from a blue Hyundai and it looked just like Kathryn. I had to drive around the block to get a parking spot and by the time I walked to the house, Michael's mom was still outside. But because I made the mistake of carrying a reporter's notebook, in case I wanted to record what I saw, I was swamped by people who wanted to tell me what they'd seen. Kathryn remained outside but I missed a decent photo of her. And because of poor planning, I had only my cell phone for a photo.
So the only photo I could get was Kathryn's bodyguard standing outside the front door.
I talked with some regular people, including Vanessa Lewis, who received a hug from Kathryn and told me repeatedly how it was a blessing from God. Others wanted to know what paper I worked for and they wanted to share their stories in print. (It turns out that there are a fair number of shirt-tail relatives, who remain unimpressed by my last name.)
I remain impressed by the outpouring of love from Michael's fans, despite all the allegations. The house has become a shrine to him, his music and the message he intended to send through that music.
But I'll tell you the most striking thing is this 79-year-old woman, who has a mansion in California and tacit control of tens of millions of dollars, returning to her home of 20 years. She comes back to spend time in a home that is smaller in size than her garage. It's a home of 400 square feet where she raised nine children along with husband Joe.
Do you know what she was doing?
She was having dinner in her old house with her sister and other friends and family.
It can only mean that the old place remains close to her, to the formation of her children and to the lives of her grandbabies, for whom she now cares.
Home is home, even if it's thousand of miles away physically, and a million miles away metaphorically from where she now resides.
But it's also a sign of a woman who knows where her roots remain, and how important it is to feed the roots that feed not just her but the children of Michael and her other kids.
Further, the humility of eating in a house probably as large as her formal dining table in California shows that she knows what is most important.
It is home, and family and the atmosphere that made both.
I didn't get a close-up view in my two hours there, but I did get a feeling from both Kathryn and the small group waiting outside -- and both rang strong with true love.
