John Lennon

Today is the 30th anniversary of the murder of John Lennon. Really, I should say death, because calling it a murder gives creedence to the man (and I use that term loosely) who pulled the trigger.

The loss of  Lennon was personal to many. It's always a bit sad when your favorite entertainer or celebrity dies, especially in such a violent way. You mourn for a bit, then get on with your life. But this loss cut much deeper. So many of us had literally grown up listening to and being influenced by John. I was too young to really remember The Beatles in their heyday, though I was aware of them. Being the youngest of six, all my siblings owned and listened to Beatle records.  I was a bit older in the 70's after the breakup, and became aware of Lennon's antics. His anti war protests, the weird stuff he and Yoko did publicly such as the bed ins, the bag art, the Two Virgins album. As a kid, I thought he was a little strange, and gravitated more towards Paul McCartney's solo work, as it was a bit more palatable.

Predictably, as I got into jr high school, and then high school, I began to get it. Though he retired from public life for five years, I was still interested in what he was up to, and gained a new appreciation for his post Beatle music. When he came back in 1980 with a new album, new look, new attitude, I was thrilled. He had grown up. He spent five years raising his son, Sean, and seemed the wiser for it. Sure, he was still the same John Lennon  who believed in the causes that he always had, but somehow he seemed more accessible. Like a regular guy who was wildly famous. I would read in the papers that he would walk around New York city, not flanked by a security detail, and that people could approach him on the street and he would be happy to sign an autograph, pose for a picture, shake a few hands. As long as he had his Yoko, his new son, and the city he loved, everything was alright with John.

At about 11:45 pm, December 8th, 1980, my Mom and I were watching Johnny Carson (for you kids, he hosted The Tonight Show before Jay Leno). My brother was working at Cunningham's  and scheduled to get off around 1:00 am or so. Tom and I had spent the last few months tracking Lennon's return to the public eye and had nearly worn out our copy of "Double Fantasy".  NBC interrupted the Tonight Show with news of the death of John Lennon. He had been shot outside his New York city apartment building after returning home from a recording session. I felt the blood drain from my face, and my mother and I stared at each other in disbelief and shock. When Tom came home from work, we stayed up all night listening to the radio to John's music and interviews. It seemed so surreal.

What made it so personal was the utter frustration that so much was going well for him at the time. I was excited at the prospect of more new music from him, and  thought that he may tour, and maybe even come to Detroit. Now it was gone, all gone. I was just old enough to understand his quirkiness, and could identify with it. The thought that he was such an advocate for peace and had to die this way was more of a nauseating irony than I could deal with.

 I have since lost  people that  I love and care about over the years, including my older brother, Ed. Of course these losses still hurt, but John Lennon's death still stings a bit as well. I find myself wondering if he would have gotten involved in Live Aid, or in the fight against apartheid. 9/11 would have broken his heart. He'd have a Twitter account, be on Facebook, and probably would have loved his smartphone.

 As with any personal loss, we are left with the memories. But John also left us his commitment to peace and justice. And, thank God, he left us his music. And in that music, hope, and the fact that even in these violent, horrible times that he was fortunate not to see, all we need is love.