I had my alarm set for seven forty-five the next morning, because I was supposed to bring the $2 million watch back to the Bank of America, but I slept through the alarm and awoke only when the phone rang. It was Henry, Michael’s security guard. He said, “Hello, sir, I just want to let you know that planes hit the Twin Towers.”
The night before, everybody had been joking about how I was going to take off with the $2 million watch. Still in a fog, I didn’t properly understand what Henry was talking about and assumed it had something to do with the watch. “Oh shit,” I said. “I’m sorry. I forgot to bring the watch there. I’ll go right now.” I started to scramble out of bed. I was late! I had to get to the World Trade Center—to Bank of America. “No, sir,” Henry replied. “I don’t think you fully understand. We need to get out of here. Do you have any idea where we can go?” I heard the panic in his voice and turned on the TV.
Valerie was next to me, saying, “What’s going on? What’s going on?” In a matter of seconds, we packed up our belongings and met Michael, Paris, Prince, Grace, and my brothers Eddie, Dominic, and Aldo at the car. I suggested we head to my parents’ house, but we soon realized that the bridges to New Jersey were closed. Luckily, one of the security guards was a retired chief of police. He called someone in the police department and got us permission to leave the city. As we crossed the George Washington Bridge, we looked downtown and saw the smoke. The first tower had fallen. “Wow,” Michael said, shaking his head. He started to say something, then looked at Prince, whose eyes were wide and innocent, and closed his mouth.
But I know what was going through his head, because soon after we got to New Jersey, he started talking about how he could use the song “What More Can I Give” to raise money for the survivors and the families of victims of September 11. It had been such a calm, peaceful day. The concert had felt big, like an amazing spectacle. The next day the whole country changed. In an instant, my work with Michael Jackson felt insignificant and dispensable.