Skip to main content

We Are the World

In this episode – We Are The World . . .

“I lived less than three blocks away from A&M studios and didn’t even know what was happening,” Lori said to me while we watched the recently released Netflix special “The Greatest Night in Pop” - the documentary of the making of “We Are the World.”

"Check Your EGO At The Door!" Read the sign posted by Quincy Jones.

“We Are the World” is a 1985 charity single for African famine relief that included the voices of Michael Jackson, Willie Nelson, Bob Dylan, Ray Charles, Diana Ross, Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson, Paul Simon, Tina Turner, Dionne Warwick, Lionel Richie, Billy Joel and Bruce Springsteen.

The Greatest Night in Pop is the story of how it all came together, told by the people who made it happen, including the camera crew, engineers, assistants, and musicians like Lionel Richie, who served as an executive producer of the film. And despite its popularity, there are still origin stories that you probably didn’t know.

Written by Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie, the song was co-produced by Quincy Jones, and all came together with a large ensemble of popular musicians and artists under the name USA for Africa to perform the song. The recording occurred the night of January 28, 1985, and the single was released on March 7, 1985.

Have you ever wondered how two creative artists like Lionel Richie and Michael Jackson write a song together? The process they used was fascinating to watch. Richie began by tapping out a rhythm, while Jackson filled in the song by humming the tune, even though no lyrics had been written.

“We Are the World" is a charity single recorded by the supergroup USA for Africa. Its main objective was to raise funds for humanitarian aid to Africa, specifically to alleviate famine in Ethiopia. This single was a huge success commercially and in raising awareness and funds for the cause. It raised over $75 million for humanitarian aid in Africa. The funds were distributed to various organizations working to combat hunger and poverty in the region.

If you don’t recall this release, please follow the link provided to watch the video. It's amazing how tapping out such a simple tune can have such a powerful impact on the world. That’s the power of music!

I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. See you in the next episode.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

The Gopher Problem and the High Powered Solution

Vacationing in Maine this week, just a short drive down the coast from Freeport, it is hard not to think about the outsized impact one frustrated outdoorsman had on the gear we all use today. Bad equipment can ruin a perfectly good day on the water or the trail, but it takes a special kind of vision to turn cold feet into a century-old empire. This is the story of the company we now know as L.L.Bean, but more importantly, it is a masterclass in integrity, learning from failure, and standing behind your work. In 1912, Leon Leonwood Bean faced a persistent problem: returning from expeditions in the Maine woods with cold, wet feet. Instead of complaining, he got creative. He had a local shoemaker stitch waterproof rubber soles onto the flexible leather uppers of a hunting boot. He called it the Maine Hunting Shoe and mailed a flyer promising perfect satisfaction. Then reality arrived. Ninety of his first 100 pairs failed when the rubber separated from the leather. Not an effective product...

Stamps and Snow

In this episode, Stamps and Snow . . .   You don’t usually walk into the local Post Office expecting a time warp . . . but here we are. All we wanted were stamps for this year's Christmas cards— yes, the old-fashioned paper ones that require licking, sticking, and hoping the Postal Service is feeling ambitious this week. But holiday errands have a talent for slowing you down, almost like the universe whispering, “Relax. You’re not getting out of this line any faster anyway.” So we waited. And while we waited, we talked (Are you surprised?). Because the Post Office is one of the few places where people still look up from their phones long enough to talk . . . Maybe it's because they're holding packages. It’s the modern town square: part civic duty, part free entertainment, part sociology experiment. The discussion began with holiday specials streaming on Netflix, Paramount+, and other services during this time of year. One gentleman who has lived in Vista since 1958 told us,...

On Becoming Real

Some things get better with wear: old shoes, old friendships, and old books. Especially old books. A new volume arrives with crisp corners and a spine that hasn’t yet learned to bend. An old one has been somewhere. It has traveled through time in the hands of people who may no longer be around to tell us what they found inside. The copy of The Velveteen Rabbit (first published in 1922) on my desk is one of those books. My friend Don Hanley gave it to me. This late-1950s Doubleday edition features William Nicholson’s original illustrations and cream paper boards softened by age. Worn corners, a split spine, and colored tabs mark passages worth revisiting. Don didn’t hand me a keepsake. He gave me homework. When we talked about the book recently, he pointed me straight to the nursery conversation between a young rabbit and an old Skin Horse. The rabbit had noticed the mechanical toys around him—the ones with internal gears, bright paint, and stick-out handles that seem terribly impressiv...

A Dog, a Beer . . . and the Ghost of 1912

Whenever you step into an American cathedral of our National Pastime built before modern ergonomics, municipal zoning, or crowd-flow dynamics, an unspoken understanding forms, creating a welcoming, timeless atmosphere. You trade legroom, sensible corridors, and personal space for the privilege of communing with ghosts. Last week, Lori and I made our pilgrimage to Fenway Park to watch our Chicago Cubs take on the Boston Red Sox (a taut 0–2 contest that felt spiritually tied to their 1918 World Series meeting). Staying just across the Charles River at the Courtyard Marriott in Cambridge gave us one immeasurable tactical advantage: we walked. While the automotive gridlock around Kenmore Square took on the character of the Siege of Yorktown—horns echoing across the asphalt like musket fire—we simply strolled across the Boston University Bridge, enjoying the river breeze and feeling smugly superior to everyone trapped behind a steering wheel. Fenway, built in the spring of 1912, holds rough...