Advice columnist Nia Orms attended the Memorial service for Michael Jackson Wednesday. Here is her first-hand account of the day’s event.
By Nia Orms
I didn’t know if I should go to Michael Jackson’s funeral.
Even as I sat in traffic three blocks away from the Staples Center on Tuesday, I was hoping that my driver for the day would tell me that we were late and they would not let me in. However, my guest was eager to hop out of the car and walk so we wouldn’t miss a minute of the funeral and that’s what we did. In my heels and the most innocent black dress I could find I walked three long blocks to a side entrance. The police were out in force, yet there were still four or five fine, and I mean fine, muscular black men in suits standing in front of a barricade. Perhaps they were hired by the Jackson family for “real security.”
Just when I thought we’d reached the entrance, officers stopped us and told us we would have to walk even further to a side entrance — the wrong entrance. While I was upset over the long walk I realized that this wasn’t what was actually bothering me. I was really mad because I don’t like funerals. They bring back memories and temporarily drown me in sorrow and make me forget that I truly believe that life is eternal.
More after the jump.