A tribute

On the return trip from South Bend we took a quick detour off of the highway to drive by the childhood home of Michael Jackson in Gary, IN. On the way, Scott warned me multiple times that he had heard this was NOT a safe part of town. I only half listened as I envisioned this great bonding memory with my girls. In my mind, I pictured driving up to the house, getting out with Emma and Kate and having Scott take a picture of the 3 of us girls so that one day I could tell them of our tribute to the King of Pop . I pictured us girls doing a little moonwalk down the sidewalk while Mommy donned her childhood MJ glove. Now that you know my intentions, here's the reality.
Every single stop sign had at least 10 bullet holes in it. Every house on the street had bars on the doors and windows. Many yards looked condemned. And the street surrounding the Jackson house was blocked off requiring a half block walk to get there. Putting my own life at risk is one thing, I wasn't about to do it to my children.
So alone I walked, scared but determined with nothing but my camera and my glove. There were people selling t-shirts and memorabilia on the corner across from his house. I asked a girl to please take my picture. When I pulled my glove out of the pocket and put in on, the t-shirt sellers were convulsing in laughter at me. But my love for Michael Jackson prevailed over the risk of getting shot or being made fun of.