I was really looking forward to BET’s tribute to Michael Jackson’s life and legacy. Maybe I bought into the notion that we can honor our own.

I was at the Hollywood Bowl in August 1971 on the second row when the Jackson 5 sang all their hits from ABC.

I stood up when Michael said show me what you can do. I shook it and shook it, baby, in my turquoise terry cloth zip-up hot pantsuit. I kissed his photo torn from Teen Beat magazine that hung above my bed. I loved him even when his face turned lighter and his nose got pointy.

I never believed that he’d molested those kids, holding to the belief that he was craving closeness and like all children -- he sought it out in ways that kids do.

Playing touchy feely or doctor.

I forgave him for turning to prescription drugs to...