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Post by Dr Winston on Dec 7, 2010 0:49:08 GMT 1
Everyone has their own story of where I was when I heard the news. Everyone has their own personal recollections of John Lennon - the man, the Beatles, and the music.
Please share your story here...
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Post by DayTripper on Dec 7, 2010 23:11:27 GMT 1
I wasn't born when John died, but my father told me how sad he felt when he heard the news on the radio.
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Post by peregrine9 on Dec 8, 2010 21:21:55 GMT 1
I am going to be turning 53 years old in a couple of months.So on December 8,1980.I was in my early 20's when John was assassinated.I was allready living on my own,working and had roommates In the apartment I was living in.I was taking a art class in the evenings just for fun and because I love art.Since I live in California.There is a 3 hour time zone difference between here and New York.I was about to finish the class that evening and leave and go home.Someone walked into the class and told us all that John Lennon had just been shot to death outside the Dakota.Many of the adult art students began to cry and alot of us got tears in own eyes.I left after the class and waited untill I got home to be alone to cry.I then put the TV set on and was watching the news reports come in.It was like a horrible nightmare happening.Except it was reality.
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Post by Elliott Dreznick on Dec 9, 2010 2:11:47 GMT 1
December 8, prior to 1980, was recalled by the rock stations as Jim Morrison's birthday, Morrison having been born December 8, 1943. I know this well, because the night of December 8, 1980, my brother was studying on his side of the room with Monday Night Football blaring on TV, and I, on the other side of the room was studying, drumming along with the radio playing Doors music in tribute. My blaring noise was disturbing my brother and his blaring noise, and the fight began. He ultimately had me by the neck, when an Eyewitness News brief during the game announcing that--what??--John Lennon had been "shot" on the Upper West Side--ended the fight and created peace between me and my brother.
I remember the events of that night as they rapidly unfolded..an Eyewitness News brief during Monday Night Football that Lennon had been "shot", followed almost immediately by Howard Cosell's announcement mid-MNF of the tragedy of Lennon's "murder". From "shot" to "murder"..just like that. The tuning of the radio to verify what we had just heard, and the verification simply by hearing all the rock stations playing nothing but Lennon and Beatles.. followed by disbelief of verbal verification by announcers and the TV news. College class the next day, and an announcement in front of the class of the horrors of the night before, only two miles away from where it occurred. The day that followed, and the days to follow enlightened us about a psychologically-disturbed man named Mark David Chapman--- a "Nowhere Man" bent on killing himself but instead killed what was incomprehensibly to him his "alter ego".. a crazed individual whom George later called in song, appropriately, "the devil's best friend".. a person so in awe of an idol to obtain his autograph only hours before, only to kill his prey on the way back from a recording session. The assassin had accomplished his goal to get a 'name' for himself.. the name of scourge. Much more importantly, this was about the loss of a true talent, a genius, a voice of a generation, a peacemonger, a husband and a father of a five-year old little boy who would never really know his daddy. Less importantly, this was the end of all hope for millions which comprised a generation that one day we would see the man once again team up with bandmates Paul, George and Ringo to create even more magic.
The Sunday that followed, December 14, 1980, was the vigil in New York City and moment of silence, indelibly etched in my mind, standing on the corner of W72 and Central Park West. (4:06)
On December 8, 2000--the 20th anniversary of the murder--I went to the ICU to visit my Dad. He was post-op and in the ICU, but he was awake midway through the hospitalization he would not survive..awake enough to give me the Dad look at the Lennon shirt I was wearing..but that was my Dad. And years later, after losing my Dad and my Mom, you realize who your true heroes are...but outside of the beloved family members and some dear friends I have lost, the next great loss was John's. He was the JFK for those of us who either weren't alive or don't remember that fateful day in Dallas on my second birthday, November 22, 1963. The Upper West Side was Dallas to us.
I was at Strawberry Fields one December 8 in the 1990s, and the scene at the Imagine tribute was indescribable. So many fans and musicians singing songs of love and peace. A memory that rightfully won't die.
John was the force behind the greatest musical group ever in existence, and half the creative team which was responsible for the world's most incredible and enduring music. These are the memories we hold onto as fans of music, the arts, love and peace.
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