The horror of a STRIP SEARCH
Horrified by the ordeal of a strip search Michael had to go through in December 1993 I initially avoided placing here the description of this strip-of-all-dignity procedure.
However the information from the link may be gone one day and this is why I reluctantly decided to relate the sad story (the way it is told by Taraborelli). I am not sure of the author’s credibility at all – so I’m asking you to disregard all the ‘embellishments’ he added to the description. The factual side of the strip search is awful enough to convey the feeling of utter humiliation and frustration Michael must have been experiencing at the time.
I wonder if those who will read it EVER DARE blame Michael for taking painkillers to dull his unbearable pain. It made me nauseous just to visualize the whole thing…. The procedure would be simply impossible for any of us to go through – so what was it like for a pure, innocent and beautiful soul like Michael?
He nevertheless managed to survive it… And many other things which were equally bad… Doesn’t it mean that despite all his gentleness Michael was the TOUGHEST MAN ON EARTH?
“….There was nothing more humiliating for Michael Jackson than when police strip-searched him while investigating the allegations that he had molested 13-year-old Jordie Chandler.
The boy had given a detailed description of the star’s body and the detectives needed to check if it was true. Jackson was warned that if he refused to cooperate, he’d be arrested and taken away in handcuffs.
After the police arrived at Neverland, it took lawyers an hour to persuade him to leave his bedroom. Finally, he came into the living room clearly agitated, wearing a brown dressing gown. He blocked his face with his hands, as if thwarting the paparazzi.
He was told to stand on a platform in the middle of the room. ‘Please don’t make me do this,’ he pleaded. ‘Sir, we have no choice,’ said one of the detectives.
Staring at a picture of Elizabeth Taylor on the wall, Jackson removed the dressing gown, to reveal a bathing suit. ‘You’ll have to take that off, too, sir,’ said the detective. Michael slipped off the bathing suit . . . under which he was wearing boxers. ‘Sir, please,’ the detective said.
Crying softly, Michael took off the boxers and stood, stripped not only of his clothes, but of all his dignity. All eyes peered at him to see if he was circumcised, as Jordie had claimed (he wasn’t). ‘Oh my God,’ Michael whimpered. He looked as if he was about to faint.
The police circled him slowly, making notes about his body, the colour of his buttocks and private parts. A photographer took pictures before Jackson jumped off the platform. ‘That’s enough,’ he said, before fleeing the room.
He was persuaded to return by his lawyers after 15 minutes of cries, shrieks and pleas. A plaintive wail resonated through the house. Michael Jackson had been broken. He pounded his feet against the floor.
Again, he stood naked. More pictures. Then videotape. ‘Please, can we stop now?’ Michael pleaded.
One of the doctors produced a ruler, at which point Jackson’s doctor intervened. ‘That’s it,’ he said firmly. ‘Mike, get dressed.’ Jackson ran from the room, shaking and screaming: ‘How could this happen to me?'”
(from “Michael Jackson: The Magic And The Madness” by J. Randy Taraborrelli)