In November of 1994, I received a call from Michael Jackson's office asking me if Jeremy and Jourdynn [Jermaine's sons] could join Michael on a photo shoot in Chicago for his new album. It had been months since he had seen my two sons, the last time being during the "Jackson Family Honors" fiasco. The kids were excited about going away with Michael, especially because their cousins Taj, Terrell, and T.J. would also be going. I agreed that they could go—with one big condition. They had to keep up with their school work.
The apartment seemed hollow without Jeremy and Jourdynn's laughter, fights, and screams of joy. They had been away before, but only for short overnight visits with their father. This was out-of-town, bigtime stuff. It had always surprised me that the Jacksons could go for weeks without calling to check on their welfare, their health, their happiness. Yet time would pass without a word. Not from Katherine, not from Joseph, and not from Jermaine. They didn't care if the kids had food, clothes, or a bed to sleep in. It was as if my children had ceased to exist.
When they were with Michael, things were different. He made certain they checked in with me every night. After Jeremy filled me in on the toy store visits. Jourdynn gave me a running account of their room at the posh Ritz-Carlton. Then it was Michael's turn to pick up the phone, and he sounded wonderful, as though he was happy with his life once again.
The photo shoot had gone well and Michael wanted to spend more time with them, so he arranged a train trip to Minneapolis via a private Amtrak coach car. With Tito's three sons on their way back to California, Jeremy and Jourdynn were alone with Michael. I knew they would be safe and well taken care of with him.
Jourdynn and Jeremy called several times during the trip, each time full of excitement. On the last call, Jourdynn complained that his uncle Michael had locked himself in his cabin and wouldn't let them in. I knew the feeling. I could imagine what it was like to be trapped with them for several days and nights on a train.
"He's meditating," Jeremy informed me. And when I asked if he knew what "meditating" meant, he said he did: "It's when Uncle Michael locks himself in his room in the dark and tells us not to make a sound." Close enough.
The most incredible detail of the trip, however, wasn't revealed until it was over. When Jeremy and Jourdynn came back home, armed with some new toys, I asked to see their schoolwork. As promised, it was completed and perfect. When I asked who helped them with their papers, they replied in unison: "Uncle Michael!"
i for some reason cannot insert it here, dont know why… i would assume he did meditate… he inherited some things from Asian cultures, a form og greeting (putting hands together before the chest), so meditation could also have been a thing..besides he was spiritual, he always expressed it.
