Shore, who teaches broadcasting at Lumberton Middle School, said a friend texted him the news and he broke down crying.
The first person he called was his former wife, Elyse. They had slow-danced to the Jacksons' "I'll Be There" in high school, then married 11 years later.
Shore recalled attending the Jacksons' September 1984 concert at John F. Kennedy Stadium, a show that people around here still talk about.
Struggling to downplay the bizarre aspects of Jackson's life - the accusations of inappropriate behavior with children, the peculiarities in dress, and the numerous efforts to alter his face and aspect - Shore wanted the world to remember the man's music most of all.
"He was the Beatles of my generation," Shore continued. "Kids today only think of Michael Jackson as some wacky guy."
Summer Freeman, another disc jockey at the Riversharks game, said Jackson was so much a part of Americana, he had become a "public possession."
Recently laid off from WUSL-FM ("Power 99"), Freeman, 31, said her mother had bought her leather pants like Jackson used to wear, which her male cousins fought to try on. For Freeman, it was an enduring memory on a sad night.
Remembrances were robust and loud at Woodard's Barber Shop in the Wynnefield section last night, where Jackson famously had his hair cut before a Spectrum show in 1980.
Apparently much of Philadelphia remembers the haircut, because, after Jackson died, owner Robert Woodard's phone began ringing incessantly last night.
Telling the tale, Woodard said he had gotten a call from the famous Philly DJ Georgie Woods that Jackson, then around 20, needed a haircut, and that his brother Randy needed a shape-up.
"I'm bringing them up," Woods told Woodard.
Sitting in Woodard's chair, Jackson spied Woodard's burgundy 1947 Cadillac parked outside the shop and asked him to let him rev it around the block.
