It was spring of 1979 when me and many of my fellow highschool seniors took a trip to NYC. We did all the touristy stuff like going to the Empire State Building, World Trade Center, Statue of Liberty, Central Park and Times Square. Some of us even saw 'Beatlemania' and met the cast as they left the theatre.
But what I remember the most was going to the Dakota Building. Only five or six of us went, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man. Unfortunately, we had to settle with just the doorman.
"Hi. Could you tell us if John Lennon is home?"
"I'm sorry, I can't give out that kind of information."
"Well, could you tell us which apartment he lives in? Which side of the building?"
Again, "I'm sorry, I can't give out that kind of information."
"Could you us if he has a certain schedule so that we might meet him when he leaves?"
Yet again, "I'm sorry, I can't give out that kind of information."
So we just stood there, looking through the entranceway into the courtyard. I took a few photos and off we went. I always wondered if he was actually up there then, tending to young Sean or baking bread.
Little did we know that less than twenty months later John would be murdered exactly where we had been standing.
On Monday night December 8, 1980 I was literally getting into bed when the terrible news was announced on the radio. In disbelief, I called the radio station on the phone and they verified the news was for real. I then called two of my close friends. I then went back to my bedroom and had just shut the door when my dad knocked. I opened it and told him what had happened. He asked if I was all right. I said I was and he turned and left. As I closed the door I heard him tell my mom that John Lennon had been killed. I was 19 years old then. I'm 44 now, 25 years later and I remember that day like it was yesterday.
Bless Yoko, Julian, Sean and all who still love John...
Rob, nothing so dramatic as your story. I was late learning about The Beatles - was already a young mother, and later heard 'Imagine' at Kriya Yoga Temple in Chicago for the first time. I've never been so deeply immersed in hope/hopelessness before and since. I cannot, to this day, hear 'Imagine' without crying.
Am listening to Shaved Fish as I write....let's stop all the fights....Happy New Year..let's hope it's a good one.. without any fear...war is over if you want..war is over now.
I'm left again with my favorite song, 'Imagine', because I see what we appear to want is war since it's all around us. I'm 63 and I love John, too.
Oh, yes, let's all bless each other - PLEASE.