It was 40 years ago today that John Lennon was killed. I was a 17 year old high school senior, living on the Jersey shore at the time. These are my memories.
I overslept on Tuesday the 9th of December 1980. I can recall that detail now, because it coloured how I learned of Lennon’s passing. I remember not having time for anything, I showered, dressed, and went straight out to my car.
I didn’t look at a TV, or speak to my family. I just went. And during my 10 minute drive to school, I thought it was weird that every song on the radio was from the Beatles.
Matter of fact, after hearing two Beatles tunes on my usual station, I switched to another radio station, and heard yet another Beatles song. I noticed, but had no idea why.
The Beatles were royalty, they sat atop the rock’n’roll pyramid of fame & talent. People still dreamt of a reunion of the Fab Four one day. And Lennon had just released his first new music in years.
That new music, a collaboration with his wife Yoko Ono, was called Double Fantasy. And it was on the top of the charts and critically acclaimed. Lennon was very much back in the public eye again.
John Lennon lived in NYC for years, and he went about his business like any New Yorker. He was accessible and approachable. And that made his murder possible, if not likely.
I parked my car in the crowded student lot, and jogged to my locker. A friend of mine was at his locker nearby, and he asked me if I heard about John Lennon?
I said no, but mentioned all the Beatles music on the radio. He said John Lennon was dead, and that some guy shot him in NYC outside the Dakota Building late last night. #JohnLennon
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I stood there in stunned silence for a moment. I said, what, are you serious? And of course, he said yes. And I went to my first class.
No formal instruction took place in any of my classes that day, the shock, and the grief were too raw for the teachers and students. We all just spoke of our love for the Beatles, and especially for John.
The shock was distinctly harsh. To think that some random guy with a handgun could just walk up to a beloved cultural icon, right there on the street, and blow his brains out…
… It was a lot to take in. It was overwhelming, on so many different levels. The implications of Lennon’s death would inspire countless news articles, and editorials.
It was one of the moments that defined a time. From gun control, to mental health, from outspoken celebrities, to their safety and security, this one event touched upon so much.
And all I did was sell John Lennon and Beatles albums to other grieving fans. There was a steady stream of customers. It was both a distraction, and a reminder of my own grief.
I remember fans gathering outside the Dakota building on the Upper West Side, in what became a spontaneous vigil and memorial. I debated joining them, as I was about 60 miles away.
I was only 17, I’d never been to NYC on my own, and decided against it. I regret that decision, sitting here now, 40 years later. Instead, I mourned on my own, through his music.
It was hard to process, hard to take in. And hard to accept. It still is, even today. It was the very definition of a senseless, pointless, tragic death.
The place was overrun with famous people and huge celebrities. I met Robert DeNiro that day, Muhammed Ali too. I’d never seen so many famous faces in one place.
I was summoned on the walkie talkie and asked to escort a couple of people from one of the hospitality areas, to the main stage. Those were the sort of little jobs I was given all day.
I doubt I was able to conceal my awe, and sadness at meeting them both. I guess they were used to it, as they were friendly and pleasant, while I fought back tears and introduced myself.
All I could think about was their loss, as I took them down a staircase, to the bustling backstage area. I introduced them to a stage manager, and said good bye.
It’s hard to describe how emotional it made me. I wanted to hug them. I ran into a friend of mine, another runner, and we adjourned to the car park to share a joint.
I told him about meeting Yoko and Sean, and he understood why my emotions welled up like they did. Their loss was enormous, and public. It was natural to feel deep empathy for that.
I don’t have any big conclusion to this thread. John Lennon’s murder continues to be a source of pain for millions of people. He was only 40 years old.
He still had so much potential, imagine how much more he could have given the world, artistically and creatively, spiritually and politically. He was nowhere near finished.
I’ll just leave you with one of my fav songs from John Lennon & the Plastic Ono Band, because one day, instant karma is gonna get us all and knock us right in the head.
Today marks the 4th anniversary of the publication of my book, “Personal Use”.
I wrote it while working for BBC News. Literally.
To mark the occasion, I am going to tweet out the story of how Personal Use came to be, all on the hashtag #PersonalUse
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I explain the origin of my online identity in the book, but I will briefly summarise it here. I created the name northlondonhippy in 2004 to post on a forum about magic mushrooms. Then I used it for a blog. And I kept using it, and it stuck.
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But I am going to skip ahead to the Summer of 2015. Some drastic changes were being brought into the newsroom & because I worked nights exclusively, I was going to catch the worst of it. For secret mental health reasons, I preferred nights.