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Where were you when you heard John was shot?


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I can remember every detail. I was valet parking in Santa Monica. I was wearing my red jacket and black pants. A Cadillac Seville pulled in with the news on. It was about 8:00 at night when I got in the car and moved it to a spot across the street. As I was backing in, the top of the hour headlines came on and I heard the news. It was like this: "This is just in from New York. John Lennon has been shot and reportedly killed. To repeat, John Lennon has been shot and re........." I was totally shocked.I went into a fog and didn't hear the rest of the announcement. Absolutely floored.
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We were living in Germany for 14 months. John was shot in the middle of this trip. I don't remember how or exactly when I heard, but I remember bringing my cassette recorder to school and playing Sgt Pepper's and some John-solo career songs between class and during our current events time in Geography class. At the time, I owned very few pre-recorded albums on cassette. (I didn't have a record player in Germany.) I'd already worn out Sgt. Pepper's, prior to his death, and was impatiently awaiting the chance to buy Double Fantasy.

It's easiest to find me on Facebook. Neil Bergman

 

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Was watching the news. It was a breaking story in the middle of the broadcast. What a shock! What a waste! Couldn't figure out(and still can't)why someone would shoot him. It wasn't like he was some tyrannical political figure. Whitefang
I started out with NOTHING...and I still have most of it left!
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[quote]Originally posted by deanmass: [b]I was getting ready for school listening to Dick Purtan in the morning on Detroit radio. I remember thinking 'wow' isn't he the one with that cool new song..[/b][/quote]I was living in Marine City, Michigan, with my girlfriend (now wife). A friend called up, a guy who was not really a Beatle freak, and said "One of the Beatles was shot" (he knew I was a devotee). I thought "Yeah, right"...but I was quite concerned, wondered which one, was he wounded? Killed? Turned on the TV and there I heard it. Man. That had already been a terrible year for me, and that news made it worse. I was working at a country radio station at the time, and in those days, the gap between country and rock was even wider. I read the story on the news the next morning, and could feel this vibe like none of the listeners cared, unless it had been Conway Twitty who'd been shot. But, I saved all of those UPI wirecopy bits about the shooting somewhere.
"Cisco Kid, was a friend of mine"
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I was getting ready to play a gig (with a truly terrible band - long story...) in Fort McMurray Alberta. It being December, the temperature there was somewhere around -40 degrees. For those who care, -40 is the same in both C and F. As we're plugging in our stuff, the DJ in the "club" we were playing comes up to the stage, smirking a little. This was one weird dude - 6 foot 4 or 5, giant Elvis pompadour and sideburns. I mean, really giant. And he says "Hey, man, some dude took care of Lennon". I say "Took care?" and of course he replies "Shot him dead in the street". Then he goes off to the bar with a chuckle. So I played through the miserable gig, feeling fairly sure the guy was full of shit, and worrying all the while that he might have been right. Back to the band house, the TV goes on and the CBC has Murray McLaughlin singing "In My Life" (making a pretty good job of it as well). Right then and there we knew it was true. Can't tell you what it meant to me (means to me now) because I haven't the necessary skill with text. But that [i]was[/i] the worst gig I ever played. JW
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I was on my first date with my now wife. We had just gone to the movies and heard it on the radio in the car afterwards. I think the movie was One Trick Pony, maybe. I'll have to look and see when that was released, but that's how remember it. I felt like Kennedy had been shot or Duane was just killed. It still hurts. Why haven't they fried that cat? (Stuff like that makes the redneck in me come right out.)
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I was 18, visiting my girlfriend in Tampa, Fl. (staying overnight at her parents house!.. what the hell were they thinking?!?) I was watching Johnny Carson when the news bulletin cut in. I couldn't believe it, I sat up in bed all night long watching the horrible news over and over again, weeping like a baby. What's really weird was the prior Sept. I was in the same house visiting the same girl when I heard John Bonham had died. I was beginning to think it was an omen to go to Fl. and visit this girl. Matt
In two days, it won't matter.
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I was watching (of all things) Monday night Football. It added to the weirdness of the situation hearing about it from Howard Cosell. I had listened to 'Let it Be' earlier that day. :cry: [b][i]I heard the news today, oh boy.[/i][/b] :cry:
So Many Drummers. So Little Time...
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I was in a diner on Long Island waiting for some take out when an older waitress chimed in(in a heavey NY accent)"Did you hear that Jack Lemmon got shot"??,I thought to myself,Jack Lemmon?Why would someone want to.......,then someone corrected her with the real bad news.Sad memory and sensless act.
"A Robot Playing Trumpet Blows"
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I was driving to work with my then wife. We heard it on WRIF Detroit. She turned up the radio and I told her that they were just talking about his music being dead. Soon enough I realized that they were not. Imagine theres no lunatics with guns. Or mildly crazy people for that matter.

Jotown:)

 

"It's all good: Except when it's Great"

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[b]Evening of December 8, 1980[/b] Jeff, age 12, had just finished his first big music recital as a guitarist. I was high on the success of my performance, and my parents were driving me home. I was in the back seat of the Volvo, and my dad turned on the radio (95.5 KLOS at my request, the local AOR rock station). At that moment, the DJ (Jim Ladd, maybe?) cut in to a song that was halfway through and tearfully announced the first reports from New York. The entire family went immediately from jubulient elation to deep grief. Horrible moment. Strangely enough, and I don't really believe in things like this...something odd has happened to me every December 8 every year since, with no exception. - Jeff
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I was 17, and at band practice. The guys in the band were all older guys, and oddly enough, the bass player and I had been really getting into "In His Own Write" and "A Spaniard In the Works." I had a copy of both books and would bring them to practice, and he and I would read from them during breaks. Anyhow, we were playing along at this rented practice space in downtown L.A., and the proprietors, a married couple, were in their room (they lived at the space) watching TV. They suddenly came running into the room and we stopped playing. "Lennon's been shot!" they said. We crowded into the little room to watch the TV. I presumed that he'd been shot and was recuperating at a hospital, or something, although I seem to recall that when the guy had burst into the room he'd said "Lennon's dead" at some point but it just didn't register. There was no way. Beatles couldn't get killed. So when we watched the news story and they said, "He was pronounced dead at the hospital" it took several minutes, literally, for it to even sink into my consciousness. There must be some mistake, I thought. All sorts of denial tactics went through my mind for some time, and then, I slowly started to understand. Our bass player, the one who'd been reading John's books with me, hugged me and I started crying. The really sad thing was, I found out then and there what dickheads most of my bandmates were at that point. I certainly didn't want to continue rehearsing, couldn't see how we were possibly going to get anything done. The bass player felt more or less the same way. But the other guys seemed completely unfazed, and wanted to keep going. We ran through a few songs, very halfheartedly on my part. Finally they conceded to call it for the night. In the band van on the way home, they were playing Beatles songs on the radio nonstop and I was in the back of the van crying my eyes out. The lead singer and keyboard player were in the front, joking around like nothing happened. Needless to say, I didn't last very long in that band after that. And you know, like Jeff says, December 8th is always a weird day. Actually the whole first week of December is often really strange, it seems like a lot of people suffer from pre-holiday depression or something. Several really bad things have happened that week in history - Altamont (12/6), Pearl Harbor (12/7), Lennon's murder... I always try to lay low during this week and not do too much because it seems like when I do, somebody always freaks out and screws things up somehow. So.... everybody be alert out there. :(
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I was in grad school in Denver. I had the classical station set to wake me up at 6:00am when the station began broadcasting. After the same old opening bit of music, the DJ gave out the news and then they played some orchestral version of "In My Life". My view of human nature dropped a couple of more notches that day. M Peasley
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I was seven years old. I led a pretty sheltered early childhood, and had only an inkling as to the importance of this man. I remember I knew who he was, who he had been with, and what he had done, but only on a child's periphery. I had an old chiferobe (sp?), and I took a knife and carved the words, "John Lennon was a very good singer" right into the big wooden door. My mom gave me hell for it, but I had that thing until I was 13, and in those six years, as my experience grew, as did my interest in music, as well as John Lennon and The Beatles, I never regretted defacing that piece of furniture. -john
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I was...like...there. There was no emotion in my blood. There was no anger. There was nothing. It was dead silence in my brain. Dead, cold quiet, until he walked up. He looked at me. . . . he walked past me and then I heard in my head. It said, 'Do it, do it, do it,' over and over again. Mark.
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