Purple Reigned on Me: Former Prince Background Singer Tells Story of Life and Inspiration

By Mikki White

"Purple Reigned on Me" is a highly entertaining, tell-all book which enlightens the story of a girl who had an opportunity of a lifetime to meet Prince. You will follow her experiences and adventures throughout the entire book. "Purple Reigned on Me" teaches a few lessons along the way which encourages you to be the person you have always wanted so that no one will ever reign on you, your life, or your parade.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781463446208

Mikki White

Mikki White is a first time author of the book, Purple Reigned on Me. She gives an intriguing story of her experiences touring with Prince and life after the thrill is gone. She's a professional singer. She has a M.S. in Elementary Administration and Supervision, and a B.S. in Elementary Education. She currently lives in Fort Wayne, Indiana.

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© 2012 Mikki White. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 4/9/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4634-4620-8 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-4621-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-4622-2 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011914167

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1: In the Beginning

Chapter 2: How I Met Prince

Chapter 3: On Top of the World

Chapter 4: Making the Video

Chapter 5: Prince of Darkness?

Chapter 6: Tour Time

Chapter 7: Peering Over the Rose Colored Glasses

Chapter 8: Purple Reigned on Me

Chapter 9: Live, Life, Dream

Chapter 10: Dear Prince

Preface

First of all, I want to thank Jesus Christ my Savior for giving me the strength to finally make it through this process. Purple Reigned on Me is a truthful, entertaining perspective of my life. This story involves describing my life before, during, and after Prince.

Acknowledgements: To my husband, Derek Curry II. You put up with me when I went back in the past to write my story. I love you for this. Thank you for your support throughout everything. Thank you to my family. I could not have done this without you. You are amazing. It is nice to look back in the past at our journey together. I know we now have our own lives, just know that you are loved and our memories together are cherished. I hope you enjoy my spin of our Prince saga. Momma and Daddy White, you have been instrumental to me and so supportive. Thanks to my hairdresser, Kenyatta Williams, owner of Serenity Salon, who hooked up my hair. Kim Bailey, an awesome photographer who took my picture for this book. You have me looking like a Diva! Ulta’s makeup artist, Ty. Thanks to John Brune, graphic artist and designer of this cover. Yeah! Kim Wiley, editor and helpful friend, and thanks to those who have supported me endlessly. These names include my sisters, Kenny White (brother), Mike Moses, Jennise Jenkins (BFF), Heidi Tanner, and countless other friends & family.

The reason I wrote this was for three reasons: 1. Memories. I think it’s important to write down important aspects of one’s life. I sometimes am amazed how quickly I forget little details in life. I have been places and seen people who carry on long conversations with me, believing I remember them. I would hate to admit how many times I faked it. 2. The story is quite exciting and I believe anyone who reads it will be amused at what’s to come and learn something they did not know. 3. There is a moral to this story and I believe this message could help someone, somewhere. I have read numerous books/articles which have helped me along my path. I hope this inspires you in some way. When reading, have an open mind and let the story take you there. Enjoy!

Mikki White

Chapter 1: 

 In the Beginning

Don’t judge if you ain’t lived it… Derek Curry II

Before I can even begin to talk about Prince and all of his greatness; I must first touch upon why I decided to write this chapter. In order to get to know a person, you must understand where they came from and how they got to the place where they are today. I stand before you in point asking for your full, undivided attention. I know you are wondering, who is Mikki really? Well, before you can read about Prince, you must first get to know me! If you know me, then you will know the most intricate details that make up who I am and why I actually wrote this book. Throughout my childhood, life was different. I came from many places, which I’ll explain to you in a second. Sometimes in life we need to reevaluate where we are, where we went wrong and what we would change if we could turn back the hands of time. For me, this is all about accepting my past and making room for my future. My prayer is that you will be inspired by this book to do the same. Sometimes I laugh at the thought of what you will be reading! I do believe in being myself which many people do not do these days. Everyone wears a mask and that is sad. My life, as crazy it was and still is at times, may be the only way for you to be able to see as I see. So I invite you to laugh, cry with me, and be free to understand the emotional part of what it was truly like to live in my shoes!

See as I see… I was raised as a devote Christian by my mother and father. Our family always attended non-denominational style churches, where there was much noise and liveliness going on. We attended services at least 5 days a week and there was no option in the matter. It did not matter if we were sick, we would still attend unless we were on our death bed. Besides, we would miraculously all get better after service was over. In our household, if you did not go to church, you would be lying in bed the rest of the day taking medicine. Personally, I was not that serious about faking to the point of staying in bed all day taking nasty medicine. 2-4 hours of service was doable as opposed to the consequences of staying home.

On Sunday mornings, at nine thirty we attended Sunday school. Usually this was the part of our day where stories from the bible were told. Sometimes there was a snack given to us for coming to Sunday School and participating in class. After Sunday School, we were off to praise and worship, which lasted almost an hour in the church where we attended. The funny part about remembering this is that I vividly recall having to stand the entire time, eyes closed, with my hands raised up continually in a mode of worship. It seemed to take forever, as the praise leader prayed for what seemed like the entire congregation. She was amazing, dang near calling on the dead to rise up and walk! She never ran out of words. It was just one continual prayer that would not end. Everybody around church looked so holy. To this day, I have not quite mastered this. I still peek out the corner of my eyes to see what is going on, especially if the person is long-winded. I remember my feet used to be so tired of not moving and body so tired of being frozen-like in a prayerful spirit for so long. My parents were awesome, but we as children were not wearing some comfort shoe with excellent support. Oh no! You better believe we were wearing those Payless high heels that felt like knives were digging into our feet. My toes are still scrunched together to this very day because of having to wear dress heels on Sunday.

After praise and worship, the preacher would preach a sermon for about an hour and a half. The pastor’s sermons were so mesmerizing that I personally enjoyed watching him! I love black churches in general because the spirit is always high and the excitement is a constant. Apparently everyone who attended services at our church were also drawn to his eloquent speech and gestures; especially the women! Our Pastor was married, but this did not stop most of his female admirers! Pastor sometimes reminded me of a pimp because his shoes would tend to match his well decorated suits! His hair was processed to give it that curly, permed look, and he kept his goatee perfectly groomed! It was safe to say that he had that grown man swagger about him.

The thing that always got me was what came after the Pastor’s sermon! You guessed it. Yet another thirty to forty minutes before the benediction. This time included testimonies, tithes and offerings, and the opening of the doors to be saved. Speaking of dragging things out; if the spirit did come that day during service, it would surely be gone by the time every person made their announcements! When service finally let out it was around one o’clock in the afternoon, but then the big test was actually getting out of the church.

My mother was a woman of God and had many Christian women that looked up to her. Immediately after church service, they would seek her out for more prayer and spiritual support. I always liked to sit around and observe the whole process. This would always amaze me. It was beautiful how my mother could command attention in a room. Everyone loved her because her personality was so magnanimous, and I am most definitely my mother’s daughter (considered to be the known favorite by my parents and my siblings)! My mother was such an anointed woman of God. She loved the Lord and took pride in being a Christian woman; this was not show for her, the Lord permeated throughout her entire countenance. Her tall stature and commanding spirit was a gift for all eyes to see. It was nothing for her to start speaking in tongues aloud or to pray for someone in a loud commanding way. She did not give a hoot about who was listening. I believe that I got my spunk and boldness from her.

If you took a look at my Dad, who was then a Reverend as well as a Deacon in the church, you’d see him talking after service to someone, anyone. He was always talking. Especially if you were a person he liked. I guess being long-winded was in our family blood because many of us had the gift of gab. My daddy was and still is a very handsome man. He is light skinned, with a salt and pepper type of coloring to his moustache. He carries his six foot three inch slender frame very well. He has the look of a reverent man but he is also someone you would not want to cross. There was only one true weakness my dad had and that was my mother. When my mom spoke, daddy was like putty in her hands. Mom was worthy of such respect and throughout their entire lives and up till now, she has been my daddy’s rock and he has been hers. Forty three years of marriage and they are still going strong. I believe anyone could see how strong their relationship was and still is. It truly speaks for itself.

Boy did my daddy know the bible! He could sit at a table, holding the bible in one hand while scratching either his head or picking the skin from his face, with the other. His face would turn pink from the digging he would do as he would dissect the bible with all of its intimate details. In our own private bible studies at home, which occurred quite frequently, daddy would ask us question upon question about the bible. Once there was a time when daddy kept asking, Why does the holy spirit comfort you? I responded, To remind us what is right and of Jesus? Now, instead of saying yes, he would say, but why does the Lord want us to be reminded of him? One of my other sisters added, so that we wouldn’t sin? Dad then continued on that same line of questioning forever or until he got the exact wording he wanted to hear or until he answered the question himself. Most of the time dad answered his own questions. All you really had to do was wait him out. Then again he might just ask us to interpret a bible verse. My siblings and I used to try to find the bible books first so that we could read it. Whoever would start reading it first would be the winner. The other siblings would give each other nasty looks in a funny way, of course. This was one of the many games that we would play in order for us to be entertained in what was a strictly religious home.

There was always this underlying competitiveness about all of us. Everyone who knew our family recalls they did not want to play any games with us. This is mostly because we took things too seriously and I had a winning complex. Even today, as an adult, I am marked with this stigma. I guess it was then and still is apart of me today. It was funny though. We would joke about this continually. I reflect back at times and understand why I am so knowledgeable about the bible because I had parents who dang near walked on water in my eyes.

Normally my sisters and I were either running around the church after service getting hugs or playing around with other children our age. Personally, I was always drawn to the elders of the church. They were so much more interesting than chasing some boys around. Most of the kids my age did not like me that well. Being held to a higher standard was always something we did not have in common. If we did, it was not to the magnitude of what our parents expected from us. Talk about living worlds apart from the other children…

After leaving church, we would eat out somewhere most Sundays. We grew up in a middle class home, where both parents were educated. My father received his degree in Chemistry, and my mother was a foreign language teacher in a middle school. I still remember some of the stories that I would hear my friends talking about being poor. They would discuss things like eating peanut butter when nothing else was available to eat and not having ample food. This was not my story; I never really knew a life like that. Throughout my childhood, our family was denied government programs because my parents made too much money. We were comfortable, but not rich enough to move to an upper class. I used to be jealous of my friends who had less. They were able to take advantage of the programs that I could not. Growing up middle class rendered us just enough financial security to pay all taxes. We never received any real tax breaks from the government.

On Sundays after church, one of my favorite eateries was Red Lobster. When our family would walk in, everyone would be so nice. All of the wait staff wanted us in their areas, as we were a family of seven. My parents were pretty good tippers, and we were well-liked customers. Standing on the outside looking in, I can see now why we were envied. So many parts of our lives looked cool. We were taught to be respectful and we were fashionable as a family. We had to say yes ma’am to all adults, and our parents made sure that our subjects and verbs agreed in every conversation. All of my sisters were beautiful and my brother, well-spoken, and attractive. We were a very handsome bunch, you might say. If we did not speak correctly, we were not allowed to talk. We all had to memorize bible scriptures, as well as know how to pray using those bible verses. None of us ever talked back. If we did we knew our mouths would be on the floor. I have some wounds to show that I did my share of challenging authority. We all had scars as reminders that we could not get indignant, or we would have to spend one night behind closed doors! If you were smart in my family, you learned quickly. I learned real quickly not to get in