The lost boy I rescued

May 23rd 1988. As a merciless sun blazed down on Rome's Spanish Steps, I took a stroll towards the legendary Trevi Fountain to pick up an ice cream, toss three coins in for luck, and gather my thoughts ahead of Michael Jackson's gig that night. As usual, with him, it was a lot to take in: the sensational BAD tour, which had enthralled the Japanese in Yokohama the previous September, mind-boggled Australia and thundered halfway across America, was set to raise the sky above Rome's Flaminio Stadiu...

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