December 8, 2015: the 35th anniversary of John Lennon’s death. There was only one place in New York to be.
Let me take you down cause I’m going to Strawberry Fields.
I could hear music and see crowds from a hundreds yards down the path. I walked up the hill and saw a throng of people: all colors, all ages, representing dozens of different countries. We circled around the Imagine Memorial and celebrated John Lennon’s life and work the best way we knew how.
Peace. Love. Music.
People brought guitars, they joined the band. Tambourines. Kazoos. One woman even brought a giant YAMAHA key board. I wished I’d brought my trombone for “All You Need Is Love”.
There was no agenda, no “program”. People came and went all day, this would continue well into the night. The circle would rotate so those on the outskirts could get to the center- if they persevered (you bet I did). Guitarists might swap out, although the die-hard musicians had been there for hours already and were not going anywhere. I wondered what their stories were. How John Lennon had influenced them, changed their lives, shaped their music.
Hundreds of strangers pressed together in a tiny corner of the city, no one pushing or shoving. Respect and peace swirled around us like the smoke rising from the candles in the center. We didn’t speak to each other except the occasional “sorry” for an accidental elbow poke. We didn’t speak, we sang, lifting our voices around words we all knew.
All we are saying is give peace a chance.
Imagine all the people living life in peace.
It really wasn’t hard to imagine while standing in that circle.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob
December 8, 1980 John Lennon was shot and killed outside of his apartment building on 72nd and Central Park West. You can see the building, the Dakota, through the trees. The man who shot him first asked for an autograph, then committed a horrific, senseless act of gun violence. A tragedy only magnified by how common that phase has become in 35 years.
I never knew a world with John Lennon, he died 6 years before I was born. Still, when all the other girls my age were obsessed with NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys, I was listening to “Lovely Rita” on repeat. My first CD was Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, purchased with my own money from Tower Records. It was never a question of who was cuter: Justin Timberlake or Nick Carter? For me that question was John Lennon vs Paul McCartney.
This debate no doubt still rages amongst school girls today. No one before or since has had as much boyish charm as the Beatles. It’s timeless. Charm for the decades, the centuries, the ages.
That’s a John Lennon doll in her hand. Betcha she doesn’t give a shit about Harry Styles. She knew the words to every song.
Strawberry Fields Forever.
RIP John Lennon, we are still imagining. You are still inspiring and changing lives every day. Wow. What a legacy we are so lucky you have left.
Do you remember the first time you heard the Beatles? Do you remember when he died? Who was it for you, John or Paul? Please, I’d love to hear any and all John Lennon stories in the comments.
All photographs ©New York Cliché
I was 5 1/2. I saw them on the Ed Sullivan show, in their US debut. My brother and sister were both teenagers, and HAD to see it! My dad sat in his chair and grumbled about it. I remember thinking, “why don’t those girls SHUT UP, so we can hear the music!”
Thanks Mary for sharing this scene with us.It must have been an emotional experience for everyone there. I was a little girl of about five when I first saw The Beatles on television. It was probably on British pop show Ready Steady Go or maybe The London Palladium. I lived in England then. Beatlemania seemed a bit strange to me, the screaming and hysteria part but The Beatles were everywhere, meeting the Queen, going to Australia (minus Ringo) in all the newspapers. When I was a teenager I too became a big fan although by then they had already split up. Paul was always my favourite in those days.
I clearly remember the day John Lennon died. I’d been out to lunch with a friend and walking back to the railway station saw the headlines on the afternoon papers “John Lennon Shot”. I didn’t understand right away that he was dead. It did not seem possible. I still visualise that old, green painted newsstand and the enormous letters on the billboards when I think of that day. it’s one of those days that you always remember where you were and what you were doing.
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Such a lovely post! I remember being in that spot when I was in NYC – a very magical place.
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Esas kirie Pano ke polous alous NEOellines sas ixa di stis proeuogmines ke stis pro-proeuogmines ekloges opou ke trexate me ta…. tesera gia na psifisete tous axristous ke kleftes politikantides,ke tous kserate pioi itan, OLOUS,ke tora diamartireste.Kathiste tora apathis ke apoxavnomenoi ke fate dimokratia.