I was born the same year that the Beatles took over the world, but by the time I became aware of the band, they’d already been broken up for several years. I’d become a serious fan by the time I was in high school, though, and had learned a lot about their lives and music.
Throughout the 1970s, fans still harbored hopes for a Beatles reunion, wondering if each collaboration between two (or occasionally even three) former members of the band might be a sign of bigger things to come. And in the fall of 1980, when John Lennon released his first album of new music in over five years – during which he’d stayed out of the limelight as a “househusband” and caretaker of his young son, Sean – a decade after the Beatles called it quits, its first single, “(Just Like) Starting Over,” topped the charts. There was a feeling of optimism in the air.
It ended on December 8, 1980. John was shot outside his home at the Dakota apartment building in New York City, and died of his wounds a few hours later. He had turned 40 years old just two months earlier. Dreams of a Beatles reunion and a future of music died with him.
I didn’t hear the news until the next morning – and when I first heard it mentioned on the radio, I was sure it was a mistake, either in their information or my hearing. But when my dad told me that they’d interrupted Monday Night Football the night before with the news report, I was stunned, and knew it was true. I remember changing my clothes before I left for school to mourning-appropriate black; we didn’t have goths yet, and I lived in Florida, so wearing black made a statement. (My ex-husband, whom I’ve known since the tenth grade, probably still remembers that too – he’s commented on it a few times since then.) I wrote a term paper about John the next semester.
I can’t imagine my life without the Beatles. I am fortunate to be married (now) to someone who loves them as much as I do, and who shared my interest in visiting a couple of places associated with John Lennon’s memory while we were in New York City this past summer.
The Dakota, at 72nd Street and Central Park West |
Strawberry Fields is located just inside Central Park at W. 72nd Street, and is a living memorial to John.
Today I’ll listen to the music of the Beatles and John Lennon and remember someone who imagined changing the world – and, in his own way, did it. I’ve changed my profile picture on Twitter and Facebook today to honor his memory.
portrait provided by 100.3 FM The Sound |
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