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"20th Annual American Music Awards"

Date confirmed in Getty Images’ ABC Photo Archive listing (archived) (“Airdate: January 25, 1993”)

Michael Jackson, speech transcript

I love you very much, Elizabeth Taylor. Teddy Riley, you are a genius. Thank you Eddie, thank you all my friends. Traveling the world has been a great education for me and if there is one insight I’ve had it is this, wherever you go, in every country, on every continent, people yearn and hunger for only one thing, to love and be loved. Love transcends international boundaries and it heals the wounds of hatred, racial prejudice, bigotry, and ignorance. It is the ultimate truth at the heart of all creation. I would also like to thank God, and my mother and father, Katherine and Joseph Jackson. Thank you once again, I love you all.

"International Artist Award" inscription, from Eddie Murphy’s speech

In recognition of his record-breaking international concert tours, and his album sales, and his heartfelt efforts to make this world a better place, the American Music Awards presents its first ‘International Artist Award’ to Michael Jackson, January 25, 1993.

Frank Cascio, friend, “My Friend Michael”

(Before the Show)

When Eddie and I stepped off the plane at LAX, a driver named Gary was waiting for us, holding a sign that said “The Cascios.”

“Mr. Jackson is expecting you,” he said, and asked if we were hungry—we could stop and pick something up on the way. Maybe we were, maybe we weren’t. Either way, we said no. We just wanted to see Michael.

The 1993 American Music Awards were scheduled for that night, and Michael was receiving the first-ever International Artist Award, so instead of taking us directly to the ranch, Gary drove us to a secret apartment that Michael kept in Century City called “The Hideaway.”

The Hideaway was a three-story apartment that was a mini-Neverland of sorts. There was a whole floor of video games—Michael’s private arcade. On the walls were pictures of Michael’s idols—the Three Stooges, Charlie Chaplin, Laurel and Hardy—and images of Disney characters. There was music playing, of course. Michael loved to have music playing, wherever he was, at all times.

When Michael met us, he seemed to feel bad about the fact that he would be busy receiving an award the very night we arrived, and told us that instead of leaving us with no one but his security guys for company, he’d invited a cousin to come over and hang out with us. (Michael, by the way, called anyone who was close to him a cousin, or a second cousin—as if he wanted to be surrounded by one big, extended family.) This “cousin” turned out to be a kid named Jordy Chandler, who was about my age.

I went up and shook Jordy’s hand; he seemed like a nice kid. This wasn’t the first time I’d met another kid through Michael. Like my own, Jordy’s family was one of many families Michael befriended, although the Cascios were the only ones he called his “second family.” We Cascios were a big family ourselves, and we were more than happy to embrace Michael’s friends. There was always room for more. To me, Jordy and his family seemed pleasant and unexceptional.

Right before Michael left that evening, he turned to me and said, “Applehead, what do you think I should wear to the show?” We’d seen an episode of the Three Stooges where Curly or Moe called somebody “Applehead.” From then on we called each other, and everyone else, Applehead. Everyone was an Applehead. We were the Applehead Club.

I looked into Michael’s closet and picked out a white V-neck T-shirt, black pants, boots, and a jacket that he’d worn to a photo shoot for the “Remember the Time” video. When he walked out the door wearing the whole outfit I’d picked out for him, I could feel myself beam. He hadn’t changed a single thing.

(During the Show)

After Michael’s departure, Eddie, Jordy, and I were left to entertain ourselves, which wasn’t hard to do given the full arcade we had at our disposal. I got along with Jordy—he was into science and puzzles and I thought that was cool. Eventually we took a break from the arcade, and Jordy and I went out on the balcony to throw water balloons and try to hit the cars that were parked below. This was good fun for a while. Then Jordy was fooling with a slingshot. I don’t know what he put in it, but it definitely wasn’t a water balloon because before I realized what was happening, whatever he had fired with that slingshot hit a parked car’s window and shattered it.

Yikes. We ducked out of view, and then sneaked back inside the apartment. We didn’t tell security what had happened. Poor Jordy was a wreck. He, like me and Eddie, was an adventurous, fun-loving boy, not a troublemaker. He paced back and forth, terrified that the police would come, fretting that Michael would be angry. He was shaking with fear. I tried to calm him. I said, “Just relax, don’t worry. It’s not a big deal, nobody’s going to be upset.” Finally, he went into the bathroom to wash his face. When he came back, we played more video games, the ultimate tonic for a freaked-out teenage boy.

(After the Show)

Later that night, when Michael came home and we were all together, we actually told him what had happened. I thought it was the right thing to do.

“Are you guys okay? Did anyone get hurt?” Michael asked. We told him we were fine—but we weren’t so sure about the car. He wasn’t angry. He just said, “Let’s go out and see if it’s still there. If it is, we’ll tell the owner what happened, and we’ll find a way to replace his window.” We went out onto the balcony, but by now the car was long gone, and none of us heard anything else about the matter. That night my brother, Jordy, and I spread sleeping bags all over the floor, watched movies, and fell asleep. Slingshot antics aside, Jordy was a likable kid who seemed a lot like me. I didn’t notice anything unusual or disturbing in his relationship with Michael.