They were born 26 years apart, came from wildly disparate backgrounds, and lived dramatically different lives.

The older of the two won eight Grammys in 1984, the year the younger man was born. The older grew up as part of a large family in Gary, Ind. The younger was raised with one younger brother in the Pacific Northwest. One came of age inside, onstage, singing and dancing. The other spent his time outside hunting and camping.

The year the older man settled a child molestation lawsuit for a reported $20 million, the younger was in elementary school. When the same allegations were raised a decade later (resulting in an acquittal), the younger man was graduating from a school called Bellarmine Prep.

One was the centerpiece of an entertainment family, the other a military family. One wore gaudy, faux military jackets, the other sported the uniform of his country.

So what did they have in common? Both died on June 25.

Michael Jackson died from what is presumed to be a drug-related cardiac arrest. Army First Lt. Brian Bradshaw was killed by an IED in Afghanistan.

Bradshaw was honored in a few hometown newspapers. Six hundred people attended his funeral. Not bad, but no comparison with the 20,000 who attended Jackson's Staples Center memorial, not to mention the 31 million Americans who watched it on TV.

Last Sunday's Washington Post featured a letter to the editor under the headline "A Life of Worth, Overlooked." In it, Martha Gillis - Bradshaw's aunt - lamented that her nephew's heroic death had been overshadowed by Jackson's tragic passing.

"Mr. Jackson received days of wall-to-wall coverage in the media. Where was the coverage of my nephew or the other soldiers who died that week?" Gillis wondered. "It makes me want to scream." (Jackson's song "Scream," a duet with his sister Janet, ends with the same line.)

The letter prompted me to learn more about the fallen soldier.

Paul Bradshaw, Brian's father, told me his son grew up hunting, fishing, camping, and backpacking in Steilacoom, Wash. "He didn't care much for stick and ball sports," Paul recalled last week. "For him, they were too much standing and not enough action."

In high school, Brian was a mountain biker and a rock climber. He was a member of the drama club but didn't act in the plays. He built the sets and the props.

Brian's decision to enter the military probably wasn't a surprise. Paul Bradshaw was a helicopter pilot in the National Guard. His wife, Mary, was a nurse in the Army. Their son - a leader in his hometown's search and rescue organization - had long been dedicated to service, Paul Bradshaw told me. "And he chose the military as the best way to do it at that age in his life."

Indeed. Lt. Bradshaw made the ultimate sacrifice in service to his country after an explosive device erupted near his patrol vehicle.

And while Paul said the family has been "greatly honored by many, many people," they've also clearly noted the disparity in coverage between the deaths of Michael Jackson and Brian Bradshaw.

With no bitterness in his voice, Paul Bradshaw told me there's no sense comparing the two deaths "other than, as a military family, we wonder how the coverage gets to be what it is. But we understand." After all, Jackson was beloved by millions who understandably wanted to mourn his passing, he said.

The Bradshaws just hope the mourners don't forget about the hundreds of thousands of troops in Iraq and Afghanistan, who, as Paul said, "are still there and trying to protect America so they can celebrate the life or mourn the death of anyone."

On the day his son was buried, Paul Bradshaw told a local reporter, "Today is the saddest day of my life. But I'm still a lucky man. I knew Brian Bradshaw for 24 years."

If only the rest of us had been so lucky.