Found my 'first meeting' picture. Here is Mickie greeting Andrea moments before I had my first introduction to the Guy. Detroit, October, 1999.  

Memorial...

Below is the letter I wrote for my friend's sons and family. She died last week. Mickie & I had some great times together around the globe. She came into my life because of our common interest of Andrea Bocelli. What ensued was a nearly unbelievable set of events that this anonymous Alaskan could not have imagined would ever take place. Last summer we were supposed to travel to Torre del Lago together for another adventure. I had to cancel because of a family matter and missed out on my last chance to meet up with her. Our last meeting was in Phoenix. After the concert we sat at our hotel's bar and had a couple of beers and nachos, still wearing our backstage passes....

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It has taken nearly a week of bumpy starts and tearful stops to write this small bit of my history with Mickie. And it kept sounding like a story about ME, which is not my intention. I hope you can, in places where is sounds like a "Laurie" story, read between the lines and know that what I am telling you is taking place for the most part Because Mickie was my friend.
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It was an honor to be a friend of Mickie's. At least, that is how if felt for me. We met (online) in 1999 shortly after the Hollywood Bowl concert. I had flown to California from Alaska in a singular pilgrimage to see the man whose voice I had fallen in love with the previous year. I was pretty new to the internet and had never heard of Bocelli.net/Bocelli.de when I flew down for the concert. In hindsight, our paths unknowingly crossed there on that warm L.A. night at The Bowl. When I returned to Juneau, having fulfilled my then 'life's goal' to see Bocelli live I got on the internet and discovered there were others out there just like me, under the spell of a Tuscan singer, whose voice changed the path of our lives, forever.

It became clear right away, through correspondence that Mickie was someone special. Her dedication and admiration for Andrea went beyond going along for the ride like most of us out there. She had been there since the beginning of his U.S. debut. She did not merely float along, she dove in with an intelligence, dedication and respect that never wavered. She was already a couple of years into learning Italian (if I remember right) by the time I met her. She was smart, caring, wickedly funny and did not suffer fools. She always spoke her mind and could be as exasperating as me. I adored her. She suffered through my initial over-enthusiasm of entering the Bocelli-world she had occupied for so long with class and patience. She shared close encounters she had with Andrea with her friends, but never flaunted them on discussion forums. We (her group of cyber-buds) lived vicariously through her and her generosity to let us in on those special moments.

In October 1999 was Werther, in Detroit. Mickie had an entourage of friends who were all going to be staying at the same hotel near the venue. Most of us had never met, even through cyber-means. And some (such as myself) had never met her in person. I walked into her hotel room after midnight, after having missed a connection in Seattle and was finally face-to-face with the Mickie I had grown to care for and idolize (to be frank) over the past few months. There in her room, was a group of friends all settled into couches, chairs and the floor, all strangers to me, but there was an instant bond. We were all there for the same thing and because of one person and I don't mean Andrea. If it were not for Mickie, I believe many of would not have been there. An unlikely group of mostly middle-aged gals who were stepping outside their comfort zone, many travelling thousands of miles, all of us more than a bit silly over that Andrea Bocelli. Mickie was not the cheerleader type, she just exuded a confidence and focus for making things happen, including dreams coming true. She made me believe by example I too could meet Andrea. A feat that would have been nothing but a ridiculous notion if not for Mickie. My trip to Detroit was only my second trip out of Juneau in over 10 years (the first being my trek to the Bowl that spring), so I was not a seasoned traveler. I was barely one year into even being able to 'tolerate' opera. I suppose it was the equivalent of a 'middle-aged women's road trip.' We were there for a good time together and to hopefully get a chance to meet Bocelli while there.

Before going to Detroit, Mickie and I had secured tickets for everyone in the group for the special dinner being held at the opera house right after the opening night's performance. Andrea was supposed to be there along with his co-star, Denyce Graves. So besides being excited about the opera, we had that Dinner to look forward to on our first full day in Detroit. Our hotel was near the venue, so that first afternoon we (at least 8 of us) ended up loitering outside the opera house in hopes of a 'casual' meeting of you know who. We hung around talking and laughing (trying to be casual) for a couple of hours. Folks from our group started trickling back to the hotel to get ready for the opera. Three of us vowed to stay 5 more minutes and then we'd head back too. It was me, Mickie and Rosalee. So, when three minutes later, we saw the tall Tuscan, dressed in a long black coat, flanked by his musical assistant (Carlo Bernini) and the opera's conductor (Steven Mercurio) crossing the wide street towards the opera house, it was just us three there and not what would have been a mob a half hour earlier. I had my camera and managed to shoot a few pics while Mickie approached Andrea and crew. They all knew her and greeted her warmly. Mickie has a picture I took that afternoon, a blow-up if I remember right, with her back to me and the smiling Andrea standing in front of her. Rosalee, who had also met him before, was next to approach and say, hello. Then in a moment I will cherish always, I was introduced, "Laurie from Alaska." I did have the memorable luck of being from a rather obscure point on the planet. So in future encounters it became a small bit of 'distinction' (being from Alaska). We 'floated' back to the hotel to get ready for the opera and to tell our tale to those who did not wait. That was my first encounter with Bocelli and it most definitely never would have happened if it were not for Mickie and her tenacity and for her allowing me into her circle of friends. It was one of the most memorable moments in my life. I think everyone in our group ended up meeting Andrea, either for the first time or again, by the end of that evening. But that 'three-some' meeting topped them all.

In January of 2001, I flew to Verona, Italy, my first trip outside the U.S. I was meeting up with Mickie and Astrid (and Renate would arrive later) so we could see Andrea in the opera, "L'Amico Fritz" and to enjoy Italy. We also had plans to take a train up to Munich after Fritz was over to see Andrea in his two performances of Verdi's REQUIEM at Munich's beautiful opera house. One day during our stay in Verona, Mickie, Astrid and I grabbed a train to Venice, just a short ride away. Astrid had been to Venice several times before and was able to guide us through the winding alleys and bridges that maze through that inscrutable city. I know Mickie and I were both awestruck by the place on that cold, some times foggy January afternoon. Somewhere amongst her things she will have copies of some pictures I took that day. I remember she purchased an exquisite vignette of Venice; it was like a shadow-box of memorabilia. I ended up wishing I had gotten one too, so a year later when I returned to Venice with my niece, I made sure I found one for myself. Also on this day, the three of us happened upon the idea of getting some Murano glass cherries for Andrea. In L'Amico Fritz, there is an aria called, "The Cherry Duet." They looked exactly like Real cherries and better yet, since they were for Andrea, they would feel like them too. We kept a couple of cherries for ourselves as mementos and gave Andrea a special box we purchased in Verona with the cherries inside after opening night.

In a twist of events that only Mickie could have made happen, we (me, Mickie, Astrid & Renate) ended up that night in a 'ristorante' that had been closed down for an after performance, private dinner. Friends and family from Andrea's village in Tuscany had taken a train to Verona for the performance and dinner. In fact that evening before the opera, Mickie introduced me to Andrea's mother, who of course knew Mickie by sight and had greeted her openly. Mickie was well known and respected by those close to Andrea. Being at the dinner (it was truly an impromptu event for us to be there) was a surreal experience. All the performers from the opera were there along with Mercurio, the conductor (and a friend of Andrea's) who was also in Detroit. I ate squid for the first time in my life that night, not wanting to waste an opportunity to make what was surreal even more memorable. This night was another highlight of my life. Again, thanks to Mickie.

It was Astrid, Mickie and myself who left a snowy Verona and took the train up to Munich. A beautiful trip whose architecture took a definitive turn towards the Bavarian part way through the ride. Being my first trip to Europe, I was amazed at the distinctiveness each country held; unlike the homogeneity of travelling the States. After arriving in Munich, Astrid took over things in the cab when the driver spoke only German on our way to our hotels. I had made reservations for myself months previous at the Kempinski, merely for the fact that I could see online that it was within walking distance of the opera house. It had another name, in German that I did not understand till months later. I came to find out it translated to: Four Seasons. I had gotten a great deal online for the room, so I had no idea it was so 'elite,' although Renate had heard of it and said it was "good," the full story eluded me till much later. Also, while in Verona, after chatting with Andrea's assistant I found out Andrea and his crew were staying at the same hotel. Anyway, I digress. I had a room for myself and Mickie drove off in the cab with Astrid for their hotel. I was in my room for about 20 minutes when the phone rang. It was Mickie. Her room was up several flights of stairs, no elevator. I knew she had a painful condition involving her feet and had to carefully limit her walking distances. "Could she room with me…?" was the question on the other end of the line. I was thrilled to have her there. We spent countless hours lounging in the huge Kempinski lobby, with its large stained glass dome in the center. Coffee, wine, little butter cookies served by quiets waiters (and of course her requisite cigs) while lounging on leather or tapestry sofas and chairs. It was sooo European and fun. We also had the added bonus of Andrea and his entourage passing through occasionally. I even had an extra ticket for the Requiem that I was able to give Andrea's assistant Carlo on the second night's performance. That evening when we returned to our hotel we did the usual "lounging" and "sipping". We could hear that there were a couple of American women talking at the table next to us. Eventually we stopped to talk with them and they were thrilled to discover it was 'the' Mickie Morgan (of bocelli.de fame) they were meeting. That night we waited in the lobby for Andrea to come back (we hoped we had not missed him) to the hotel. He finally arrived with Carlo (who I had sat with that night, having given him my extra ticket). We started chatting and I realized my book (Andrea's autobiography) I had been hoping to get signed was in my room and it was all ours last night in Munich. Carlo heard my tale of woe and agreed to wait there with Andrea while I ran (and boy did I run!) to our room to get my book to bring back down to the lobby to get signed. They waited and I have the signed book and the pen he used on a shelf near this computer.

Also in Munich, we were fortunate enough during this time to get backstage during one of the Requiem's rehearsals. The three of us had been to a performance of Aida at this venue the night before and the round, gold flakes of "rain" they had used during the performance still littered the stage. I got some great backstage shots of Andrea that day, and quickly ran them to the 1-hour photo nearby. (If you haven't noticed by now, I take my camera everywhere). Mickie has copies of those too. At least one of them from that day also includes conductor Zubin Mehta as he was talking with Andrea.

We parted ways in the Munich train station. Mickie and Astrid took off for Vienna if I remember right and I had to go back to Verona to catch a flight home the next day. Between Verona and Munich, it was nearly a three-week trip. We had a great time.

After Verona, there was at least one trip we shared to Las Vegas; Bocelli related of course. And then there was Phoenix a couple of years ago. We roomed together there too. Somehow (but typical of Mickie) she had a couple of full-access backstage stick-on patches from a previous concert. We dropped our luggage off at our hotel, dressed in casual business wear and with pre-determined airs of authority, stuck those passes on our jackets and waltzed straight into the rehearsal going on in that huge sports arena in Phoenix. Again, if it weren't for Mickie and her great capacity to make these sort of things happen…I would have never been there.

Mickie also introduced me to folks that first night in Detroit, who would become bosom buddies of mine, too. She had a natural affinity for choosing friends that held more interest than the singular focus of Bocelli. It would be easy to imagine maybe a one-dimensional shallowness to what we found in each other, but that was not the case. I will always miss her. And will always cherish our experiences. I hope you have found some comfort and maybe a smile or two in my small story about Mickie and me.

With Love and remembrance always,