Remembering John Lennon on the anniversary of his passing

“Do you remember where you were and what you were doing when you heard John Lennon was murdered?”

It is a question I am sometimes asked by Beatles fans who were born long after everything had already happened.

Those of us who are a certain age all remember where we were, what we were doing, what we were thinking, and whom we were with when an assassin shot down a friend we’d never met whose death touched off an orgy of worldwide mourning.

On the night of December 8, 1980 I was air directing at a low tier cable television station; popping in commercials whenever the screen went black. This was the early days of cable broadcasting when the only affordable things were public service announcements and shoddy local programming that absolutely nobody watched. It was a dull job, I worked there only briefly, and have only sketchy memories of having done so. But I remember this night. Maybe not the names, or even the faces, of the others. But I remember the events that unfolded.

When I found out about Lennon, I was not among the many who heard it announced by a passive Howard Cosell to Frank Gifford on Monday night football. They had no idea of its impact, it was just an unfortunate celebrity death to them.

Being in a TV studio, I got the news perhaps before Howard announced it. One of the boys came in from the teletype room holding a small sheet of paper with the bottom torn. He was staring at the paper, walking slowly, his face pale. I asked what was wrong. He handed me the scrap of paper. I looked at it. My eyes went blurry as I started to read, then slowly focused.

Former Beatle John Lennon shot to death outside his apartment building in New York by local screwball. More to follow.

Late that night I left the studio to head for home. It had been snowing hard, and took me a while to wipe off my car. I had the engine running to warm it up, and sat inside turning the radio dial. Every station was playing Beatle music, despite if they usually presented rock, soul, jazz, country, classical, or just talk. It was a testament to the versatility of the group, as well as the impact of the man.

When I got home I sat in the dark all night with the radio on. I sat in the dark hearing John sing over the radio: “And so my friends, you’ll just have to carry on. The Dream is Over....”

The dream might be over, but the music will live forever.

“...and we all shine on....”