Read Online The Whitney I Knew by BeBe Winans, Timothy Willard - Free Book Online

reminding Whitney of this fact—we lived in Nashville and she lived in New Jersey. So for us to “come on over” meant booking a plane ticket. It wasn’t like we just lived next door, though that’s how she acted.
    But we booked a flight and landed in New Jersey. Once we got to her house, we somehow, amid the small talk, ended up in her closet. I’m not sure how it happened, but that was Whitney. Besides, it’s not like we were hurting for room in her closet—her closet was as big as the sanctuary we gathered in to remember her. So, not to worry, we weren’t crowded.
    Sitting there among the dresses and shoes, she let us in on her master plan.
    â€œSo, here’s what we’re going to do.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘What we’re going to do?’ ” I asked.
    â€œWell, I went ahead and I had some uniforms made.”
    â€œWhat? What uniforms? What you talking about, girl?”
    â€œI ordered the dresses for the background girls.”
    CeCe just looked at me.
    â€œYeah, yeah, they’re cream. And I got the band their uniforms—their shirts and pants and all that. And BeBe, I got you a suit. It’scream too. And CeCe, I got you a melon dress made. Oh, and I got me a green one.” She had a green one made,
for herself
!
    â€œHold on, hold on. What you mean, you made yourself a green one?” I asked.
    â€œBeBe, this is for
our
headlining tour—for the tour, BeBe.”
    Now, as I was telling this story at her funeral, I remembered Clive [Davis] was in attendance. And I recalled that Clive was not happy that Whitney was heading out on the road with us. But Whitney was into her plan and was excited to be telling us.
    I broke in and said, “Whitney, you can’t be doing that. No one told you to do that. This is not a materialistic relationship—you don’t have to do any of this.”
    â€œOkay, okay, I know, BeBe. But let me ask you something. You my brother and sister, right?”
    CeCe and I both responded, “Yeah, of course.”
    â€œAnd I’m your sister right?”
    â€œYeah. You’re our sister.”
    â€œAnd we love each other, right?”
    â€œYes,” we said, “we love each other.”
    Then Whitney said . . . and this is what I’m really going to miss . . . she said, “And y’all broke, right?”
    Oh my!
We just stared at her.
Should we laugh? What should we say?
    â€œAnd I’m rich, right?” she continued.
    No hesitation there, “Yeah, . . .”
    â€œSo I can buy whatever I want for y’all.”
    Bottom line, we were about to open our first major headlining tour in Los Angeles. The smart thing, the normal thing, for a tour like ours was to start in a small city, work out the kinks, and then move toa major market. But we were headed to LA, and Whitney knew that, and I think she was a bit nervous for us. She wanted it to be perfect; she wanted to help make it perfect.
    Now, that is the Whitney I am going to miss—the true Whitney.

    After I told that story, CeCe tried to escape the platform, but I didn’t let her. She needed to be there, and I needed her support—and so she stayed while I tried to make it through the song I wrote for my brother Ronald when he passed. GO TO TheWhitneylKnew Videos.com TO VIEW THIS AND OTHER BONUS MATERIAL.
    Family had gathered on that day of days, that time when Whitney lay quiet—her voice no longer audible. At that moment, all the thoughts and feelings of Ronald and Whitney intermingled, and I hurt deeply for my
family
. But in my mind, Whitney’s voice persisted. That thing she used to always say to me before I sang, I could hear her saying to me on that day, in the Jersey girl’s home church: “Don’t embarrass me, brother. Get it together.”
    And so the music began, and the words came out:
    With tears on my pillow
Refusing to let go
When I