Michael Allen Young

June 29, 1955 – October 25, 1993

Michael was eleven years old when I was born and could have resented me for usurping his role as the ‘golden child’ in our family. Instead, he became my protector, my teacher, and my role model.

Michael was born to be onstage. He made a record at a local fair when he was just four years old and began acting at thirteen. Although he had no formal training, Michael had an innate talent and practiced constantly. I grew up with Broadway showtunes on the record player and watching him choreograph dance numbers in our basement. His passion was infectious to a little girl who idolized her older brother.

Michael loved exposing me to musical theatre. He took me to see the movie version of Godspell when I was just six years old (I can still sing all the songs). Vacations were spent watching Michael in summer stock shows of My Fair Lady and Oliver! Our parents completely accepted Michael’s homosexuality, so our home was a safe space for cast parties with spontaneous cabaret numbers.

Michael could dance, sing and act, but his real talent was bringing people together. Whether he was acting alongside you, directing a scene, or teaching you a dance step, Michael had your back. He lit up the room when he walked in. Everyone fell in love with Michael, not just because he was beautiful (which he was), but because he saw you, he believed in you, and he lifted you up. During the last 15 years of his career, Michael was on the production side of local theatre as well as national tours. He helped countless actors find their place on the stage.

One of my most vivid memories of my brother was while fundraising for “Workout for Hope” in 1992, an aerobics-a-thon for AIDS research. Michael gave me his address book (an actual book at the time) to cold-call all his friends and colleagues. Everyone I called first asked, “is Michael okay?” and then, “how much do you want?”. Some of them hadn’t spoken to Michael for years, but they all remembered him – he made a mark on everyone he touched.

I was 27 when Michael died at 38 years of age in 1993. I miss him every day. I wish my husband and daughters had a chance to know him. Michael’s star will forever shine bright in my heart.