We don’t have anything profound to say about Michael Jackson, and certainly nothing that hasn’t already been said better by others.

We just know that this city was affected strongly; from the sounds of his music pumping from cars and windows and rooftops over the last 12 days, to the spontaneous conversations in offices and bars and delis in many different accents, to the small written tributes on the streets, to T-shirt vendors seemingly instantly selling his image, to 24-hour a day MJ on the radio with call-in memories from listeners, to the gatherings on the pavement in front of jumbo-trons, to crowds jamming into theaters to watch the memorial on screen together, and our impromptu communal memorials at places like the Apollo Theater in Harlem.

Times Square (photo Steven P. Harrington)

His music accompanied most of us for a large percentage of our entire lives, and we know it will continue to; that’s the good part.  We’ll hear it at house parties, block parties, clubs, bars, discos, in teenage bedrooms, in steamy backseats, at wedding receptions, high school proms, church barbecues, and, of course, blasting from stereos out on the streets of this city — this summer and probably every summer for a long time.

Hands in the air at the Apollo, where the Jackson 5 performed, and where Motown 25 gave Michael the chance to show us the moonwalk (photo Steven P. Harrington)

Almost everyone who mourns him says Michael was more like a brother than simply a pop star and agrees that this was a candle that went out too soon.

A personal tribute (photo Steven P. Harrington)

Click here to see the street art tribute we posted the day he passed.

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