For the reader: this post is what I feel almost every time a celebrity steps into their eternity. Prince is no exception.
The rain began falling in Minneapolis just about the time we Minnesotans heard the news that something had happened — something bad — something sad. The first report was that someone had died at a mysterious but intriguing place — Prince’s Paisley Park. As a recording studio small concert venue and hideaway home for Prince, Paisley Park is one of Minneapolis’ bragging points.
The rain began to fall harder and the news that the death was not one of a worker who’d fallen from scaffolding or a visitor who’d succumb to the affects of a raging night. The reports were of Prince himself — found unresponsive in a on-sight elevator and shortly there after, pronounced dead.
His music inspired those of us blessed enough to come of age in the eighties. Being one of the first to break the old mold, Prince’s talent combined with his imagination and passion to show the world a different kind of music entrée blew millions away. While some songs are way past my level of censor, the others still conjure memories of driving my dad’s 1983 burnt orange Ford Fiesta around the streets of Tempe, AZ as I blasted ‘1999’.
Then, as smoothly as it began, the rain turned purple in Minneapolis. Waves of people poured into the downtown Minneapolis streets and the people gathered together to celebrate and remember this small man who changed the music world in a big way.
I don’t know if Prince knew the God who poured talent into his being. I don’t know if he knew the Christ who redeemed his life and if he did, I don’t know if Prince walked daily with him. I hope he did. I always hope celebrities who bring so much to the world experience the culmination of their work when they are face to face with their creator.
On a side note and not that this could be true, but I would love to hear the mass of Angels singing the chorus to ‘Purple Rain’.
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