Michael Jackson takes his final bow

Michael Jackson's last performance as flawless and precision accurate as his singing or legendary dancing
Michael Jackson's golden casket rests on stage during his memorial service at the Staples Centre in Los Angeles. Mario Anzuoni/AFP

In the end, the apocalyptic predictions of crowds running out of control, of pandemonium on the streets, of chaos on stage - like so much of the wild speculation that has poured out since Michael Jackson died 10 days ago - proved wide of the mark. He may have led a life that was increasingly eccentric and troubled in later years, but none of that dark side was on display today.

His final performance - from the gathering of LA crowds shortly before dawn, to a private memorial in a cemetery up in the Hollywood Hills, a motorcade through the streets of the city and culminating in a memorial led by preachers, singers and sportsmen - was as flawless and precision accurate as his teenaged singing had been or his legendary dancing in the 1980s.

Even the motorcade fronted by the hearse carrying Jackson's golden casket streamed through the city without a glitch, flanked all the way by LAPD officers in cars, on bicycles and hovering overhead in police helicopters.

For the family and friends of the stricken star, the day began well before 8am local time, when about 200 gathered at the Jackson parents' home in Encino. There too, fans had begun to coalesce, and were kept back, along with a mounting pile of flowers and cards, by police barricades.

A 16-strong motorcade of black limousines and buses conducted the chosen ones to the Forest Lawn cemetery in the Hollywood Hills. The star's mother, Katherine, who has custody of his three children, travelled in the first vehicle, giving her a brief private moment with her dead son before the public Michael Jackson took over again in front of a television audience of millions.

Though the cameras failed - for now - to penetrate that private sanctum in the Hall of Liberty at Forest Lawn, the last show of the King of Pop attracted blanket television coverage normally reserved for departed presidents or royalty. Across America, more than 16 TV networks carried the memorial live.

Impromptu crowds coalesced in Harlem and Times Square in New York, and in Gary, Indiana, the singer's birthplace.

Around the world too, channels broadcasting from LA included BBC2 in the UK, TF1 in France, Germany's RTL, Australia's Nine and NHK in Japan. In an echo of events across America, fans gathered outside the O2 Arena in London, many who had planned to see Jackson's comeback concert but heard his epitaph instead. Indeed, This Was It.

Screens were erected outside the O2 World Arena in Berlin, and in the Champs-Elysees in Paris. Across Sweden's larger cities, candlelit memorials of their own were held in central squares.

One fan in particular in foreign parts merits personal mention. Barack Obama briefly interrupted a visit to Russia to pay his respects before the service. "I don't think there's any doubt he was one of the greatest entertainers of our generation, perhaps any generation," he told CNN. "I think, like Elvis, like Sinatra, like the Beatles, he became a core part of our culture."

As the morning progressed, the focus tightened on downtown LA and the Staples Centre. The family had intended to bring the casket from the Hollywood Hills Forest Lawn cemetery to the memorial site in downtown LA by helicopter, but the plan was pulled at the last minute because it was considered too dangerous to land amid so many fans. So it was that the parade that everyone had attempted to avoid travelled into the city, causing long tail-backs as even traffic moving in the opposite direction stopped for a last glimpse of the star.

But it was in the city itself that hard core Jackson followers showed their true metal. A group from South Carolina travelled three days by bus to get to the Staples Centre, selling many of their personal possessions to pay for the trip. They didn't even have a ticket, and spent the morning standing behind a police cordon; undeterred, they said all the effort had been worth it.

Despite doom-laden warnings that up to a million ticketless fans could show up, the LA police put the real number at closer to 50,000. They began to assemble in the streets around the auditorium well before 7am local time, drawn by the Jackson magnet from all across the US and Europe. Some flew from the UK just on the off-chance of acquiring one of the highly sought-after gold wristbands that entitled the bearer to enter the centre.

The mood among milling fans was more celebratory than sombre. Several carried signs saying "Michael Jackson Lives". In this digital age, one fan went to the length of turning himself into a mobile music video, attaching a flat-screen TV to his back and playing rolling Jackson numbers.

The star's controversial later years were reflected in a small band of just half a dozen or so protesters who stood together condemning what they saw as the glorification of a child molester. Their signs read: "Jacko in Hell", "You're Going to Hell" and "Mourn for Your Sins".

But that discordant note was drowned out by the adulation. Vernay Lewis, 32, who flew ticketless across America from Delaware and spent all night wrapped in a blanket on the downtown streets, told the Associated Press: "I think it was his kind heart, his gentleness, his childlike ways."

Though Jackson himself grew increasingly white in tune with his descent into his strange and prescription-drug fuelled dark side, the LA throng was striking in its union of people of all races and all ages. The lucky ones were the 17,500 who benefited from the internet lottery and had access to the memorial itself.

They all boasted bracelets around their wrists - coloured gold just like the casket that was carried into the Staples Centre and laid before them at 10.34am local time.

One of those 17,500, the Los Angeles Times discovered, was Kenny Gray, 42, who took a train downtown from Skid Row where he is sleeping rough as a homeless man. "I feel blessed. I grew up with Michael," he said.

Though the day was notable for its seamless quality, such smoothness will have been achieved at a price. The mayor of LA, Antonio Villaraigosa, said the city, already struggling with a budget crisis, was preparing to have to foot a bill for ensuring public safety around the memorial that could run to several million dollars. He made an unorthodox plea to Jackson fans to contribute to the costs of the massive police operation, and even set up a website where individuals could donate by PayPal.

But what the flawlessness of the day meant to hundreds of thousands of fans had another value. It meant for just these final moments, before the grubbiness kicks in again all too soon, Michael Jackson could be remembered for his singing and dancing, and not for his Demerol and nose. He could be remembered for the bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken he shared with Magic Johnson and for the sweetest laugh he shared with Brooke Shields. And he could be remembered as the puppy-faced 10-year-old who appeared on the Ed Sullivan show bearing a pink hat and outrageous lapels overshadowed only by his even more outrageous talent.