Memories of youth ignited by sorrow

Over the last 48 hours the memories of my youth floated further away with the passing of Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and Michael Jackson because as divergent their lives may seem on the surface, each is intertwined with some of my most poignant childhood memories. Their bigger than life personas - McMahon, the jovial grandfather figure; Fawcett a spark to young sexual awareness; and Jackson, the singer of my adolescent soundtrack - marking milestones of my youth.

McMahon, who died at the age of 86 after several health issues, was a mainstay of television far beyond my teenage years. He was Johnny Carson's sidekick on The Tonight Show for almost 30 years. Carson's last broadcast was in 1992 and McMahon's "And now h-e-e-e-e-e-ere's Johnny!" trademark line sounded as eager and fresh as ever.

"Ed McMahon's voice at 11:30 was a signal that something great was about to happen. Ed's introduction of Johnny was a classic broadcasting ritual - reassuring and exciting," said David Letterman in paying tribute to McMahon.

McMahon also was a part of my television life for his 12 years as host of Star Search, which launched the careers of Brittney Spears, Sawyer Brown and Sam Harris. McMahon was warm and inviting as host and "grandfather" to the show's contestants. And of course McMahon had a signature line here as well, telling everyone to "keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars."

And Labor Day weekend will never be the same without McMahon as the long-running co-host of the annual Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon. His 41st and last appearance was in 2008, making him second only to Lewis himself in number of appearances.

I can almost recall every detail of a September Thursday in 1976 and the buzz the filled Mrs. Soperstein's classroom at Eastlake Elementary. Everyone it seems had stayed up late to watch the premiere of the new Aaron Spelling produced ABC show Charlie's Angels. Third graders all abuzz, not about the clandestine Charlie or the crime solving storyline, but instead the chatter was about the three beautiful Angels and especially the blonde Farrah Fawcett.

The show was groundbreaking for many reasons. Fawcett, Kate Jackson and Jaclyn Smith comprised the original Angels, the sexy, police-trained trio of martial arts experts that placed women in the action hero role on TV for the first time. Fawcett and the show also marked the moment that a third grader began to notice the differences between boys and girls. And yes that infamous poster of Fawcett did hang in my room for a long time.

Fawcett, who passed away at age 60 after a long battle with rectal cancer also marked a moment in my adult life on May 15, 2009. Fawcett documented her struggle against cancer with painful treatments and dispiriting setbacks for a TV documentary Farrah's Story. Fawcett sought cures in Germany as well as the United States, battling the disease with iron determination even as her body weakened. Nine million people watched the special, including me - who five days earlier was diagnosed with CD20-positive Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Fawcett provided another awakening within me, this time not sexual, but spiritual. Her valiant and brave fight against cancer girded my heart and soul for the battle against cancer.

The most unexpected of the three losses was that of Michael Jackson. Jackson died at age 50; the cause of death wasn't immediately disclosed.

In the real-life adventure known as my childhood, Jackson's music serves as the soundtrack of my youth. The first song my parents said that I learned to sing was the Jackson Five's "A-B-C." I used to sing into a hairbrush pretending to be Michael's twin brother - the thought or racial differences never entering my mind.

Years went by and I "eased on down the road" with Michael and Diana Ross in The Wiz. Then the teenage years hit and were punctuated by Thriller, and Beat It, and Man in the Mirror. I recall the early days of MTV sitting glued to the TV on a Saturday morning for all the details after Jackson was burned while filming a Pepsi commercial. Whenever I was walking alone at night at our weekend house in the mountains I would sing Billie Jean at the top of my lungs to ward off and bears or boogie men that might lurk in the dark.

And then there was Captain EO at EPCOT's Journey into Imagination that punctuated my college summers as a Walt Disney World Cast Member.

Most of my childhood memories have slowly faded away in the rear view mirror. The years have ticked by, now in my 40s, my view and memories of each of these artists had faded and changed and almost vanished. It's sad that this rush of old memories was ignited by their passing and not simply a sunny recollection of my younger years. But good memories they are! God speed Ed, Farrah and Michael.