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Jermaine Jackson's "Precious Moments Tour" Attendance

Date range assessed by the fact that Jermaine played at the “Universal amphitheater in L.A. some time that May [1986]” (Jermaine Jackson’s “You Are Not Alone”), and the fact that Michael’s last day in New York during the month of May was May 13, 1986.

Jermaine Jackson, brother, “You Are Not Alone”

I then kicked off the Precious Moments Tour with dates around America, which eventually brought me home to the Universal amphitheater in L.A. some time that May. In the back of my mind, I’d always hoped Michael would come to see me, just like the rest of the family, but I had accepted that he was consumed with Bad. At least, that was the impression he gave. What I didn’t know was how much he wanted to attend the gig as a surprise, but hadn’t wanted to cause a fuss in the crowd. “It’s Jermaine’s night, not mine,” he told Harrison Funk. Michael couldn’t so much as step outside without causing a mob scene, let alone attend a concert with a few thousand people.

I was in my dressing room backstage, in costume, with my daughter Autumn and son Jermaine Junior, hovering near the door where my Israeli security guy stood guard. And then I saw Harrison in the frame, with a battery of cameras slung around his neck, accompanied by Kevin Wilson, the son of comedian Flip Wilson, whose shows we had always done as the Jackson 5. I allowed Kevin and his buddy Marcus to open the show with a comedy act and they had people with them backstage.

“And this is Uncle Willy,” said Harrison, introducing a fan, a pasty-looking white man, aged in his forties, wearing a hat and looking a bit long in the face. I wasn’t really paying attention because show time was approaching, but I shook this guy’s hand and thanked him for coming.

“I’m a huge fan of your music,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said—and everyone burst out laughing. So hysterically that I looked behind me to see if anyone was pulling a prank. But there was nothing.

“Jermaine,” said Harrison, “it’s Michael . . . Uncle Willy is Michael!”

I looked hard at “Uncle Willy” and even though his face was dead-pan, his eyes were laughing. “Oh, no, no, no, no, NO!” I screamed. The disguise was so incredible that I’m pretty sure Michael looked at himself in the mirror that night and wondered who the hell was staring back. I’ve included a photo in this book to show you just how unbelievably unrecognizable he was (Image 001). During the Bad Tour, it was this disguise, along with others, that allowed him to mingle and sight-see among the crowds in places like Vienna and Barcelona.

Not only had he succeeded in fooling me, he’d made my night by turning up to watch the concert. As I took the stage, now feeling on top of the world, I knew that out there in the crowd somewhere, together with Janet and La Toya, “Uncle Willy” was blending in, unnoticed. He was sitting among people who, for one night only, shared a row with Michael Jackson and didn’t even realize it.