Photos of the Jackson 5, swiped from the pages of Right On, were plastered all over my bedroom growing up. For thousands of African American girls they were the stuff of fantasies and I was no different. My sisters and I were so passionate about the group that when our house got robbed, the only thing we cared about was whether the thieves had gotten away with our tickets to the Jackson 5 concert. Thankfully, they didn’t. Read the full story