When I heard the word that Whitney Houston had died, I thought about that first day in 1985, her whole life was ahead of her. I never would have imagined it would have ended like this. Then I remembered – I had a picture!

By KEVIN CHILL HEARD

Managing Editor

Looking back to the first time I had ever heard of Whitney Houston, in the light of what has transpired, 1985 doesn’t seem so long ago.

A student at Kent State University, I was at the Akron home of my Kappa Alpha Psi Alumni advisor Herb Johnson. He pulled out an album (yeah, a vinyl one) for us to listen too. He said it was something we had to hear. I thought to my self (or maybe I said it out loud), I don’t know if she can sing but I’m gonna really need to meet her!”

They laughed but I was way serious.

“What is her name?”

“Whitney Houston,” Herb replied.

The other members of the frat concurred with me that she was stunning, which was our main concern at the time. After all, we were Kappas.

But when the needle dropped (yes, I said needle!), song after song, we sat in amazement. “So you say her name is Whitney Houston, huh?”

Maybe it was her beauty on the cover that prevented us from noticing “Whitney Houston” was also the name of the album. But one thing was for certain and that was the realization I had just heard one of the amazing voices I could “ever” recall hearing.

As 1985 progressed into the spring then winter, Whitney Houston was becoming a bonifide shooting star.

In the winter of ’85, I was in New York City for a music seminar at the Marriot Marquis. Word came to me that Whitney Houston was downstairs in the hotel. I quickly splashed on some Grey Flannel cologne and hustled my butt down there, because I just knew she was trying to hear my crispy Lee Harvard/Kappa/JKF High School/M.C. Chill conversation.

Okay, so things didn’t quite work out how I had planned, but I was not to be deterred. I knew our paths would cross again.

In 1986, my own self-titled LP “M.C. Chill” was released on the NYC renowned Hip-Hop Fever Record label – and I had a new plan!

When coming up with the credits for the back cover of my LP, one of my frat brothers suggested I give Whitney a shout out. And there it was in print forever and for all the world to see, “Still saving all my love for Whitney,” man, did I get laughed at for that one!

Well, the Whitney and Chill hook-up was never to be, at least not like that.

Years later, (1999) after Whitney had become one of the biggest stars on the planet, and I, a fly entertainment writer for the Call & Post newspaper, it all went down.

Chillin’ in the lobby of the Essex Hotel to do a set visit for Samuel L. Jackson filming “Shaft,” the eventual incidental Chill and Whitney meeting took place, but not before a few other sightings occurred. Seated in the downstairs lounge with my back to the entrance, my friend Q (another writer) said, “There’s Gerald Levert!” and sure enough Gerald and Big Joe Bailey were walking in. We exchanged Cleveland greetings.

Gerald was there to work on an album for the Temptations. He and Joe told me they liked the way I had transitioned from an artist to a journalist and then were off to handle there business.

About ten minutes later, I saw Method Man walk in. We chopped it up on the current standing of the Wu Tang Clan. He assured me that all its members were accounted for and planning a new Wu CD (yep, we have now moved into the CD era of this story).

Meth and Redman met up at the bar with us, kicked some more vocal science, and headed along their way.

At that point, I was okay. I had been chillin’ at the bar in New York City with my homie Gerald Levert in addition to dropping Wu Tang talk with John Blaze, but as fate would have it, another visit was forthcoming.

Q, the other writer, also covering the Sam Jackson film, told me her and Whitney Houston were girls and that she was supposed to fall through later that evening after flying in from Hawaii, to which I said something about her being a Whitney stalker and she would probably get arrested trying to run up on Whitney Houston.h on her h, and Bobby Brown.

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The next thing I know, there’s Whitney standing there looking me right in the face.

I heard her say, “Chill! What’s up boo? Where the hell have you been?”

…Okay, that’s what she said in my mind!

What she “actually” said was, “Boy, did you tell my girl Q that I would call the police on her?” Then she said, “Fool, me and Q are cool. That’s my girl. Are you crazy!”

Oh, and did I not mention that while she cussed me out, Bobby Brown stood there cracking up.

When things settled, and my Lee Harvard crispness returned, I got a minute to talk to her. And despite all the hype about her being an insane diva, I found her to be really cool and extremely nice, well, after she had cussed me out. But, overall she seemed like a regular girl in an uncommon existence.

We laughed, talked a little music, a little life, and then she called Bobby over to take our picture (was I supposed to give Bobby Brown photo credit?).

When I heard the word that Whitney Houston had died, I thought about that first day in 1985, her whole life was ahead of her. I never would have imagined it would have ended like this. Then I remembered – I had a picture!

… And this is how I will remember Whitney.