Thirty Years Later

I realise that the anniversary was yesterday, but as I type it is the thirtieth anniversary of my learning that John Lennon had been killed. Blame the time difference between New York and London.

I have no idea what I did the day before or the day after, but I remember waking up on 9 December 1980 with the radio alarm as usual. I was a student living in Halls of Residence at the Compton Park campus in Wolverhampton at the time. They were playing a Beatles song and then another and another. I lay there half asleep enjoying the treat until I realised that in over 10 minutes I hadn't even heard the DJ and this was unheard of on Beacon Radio in 1980. Then, of course, the news came on and I found out.



At breakfast many people were very quiet and I must have been rather surly as someone expressed condolences as if a family member had died. I didn't go to any lectures that day; instead I spent the day in the bar of the Students' Union with Helen the manager and her boyfriend, John. We dressed the Christmas Tree  and hung festive decorations while the radio played Beatles/Lennon songs and particularly (Just Like) Starting Over with understated irony. There was a gig in the evening, by a local band called something like Johnny and the Hurricanes. There wasn't much atmosphere and they weren't that good. 

That was the first time I properly understood what it was to be upset at the loss of someone you'd never actually met. That was the first time I understood the power of Hero worship. I'd been left indifferent by the death of Elvis, but when Lennon died, it was different.

Thirty Years Later

I realise that the anniversary was yesterday, but as I type it is the thirtieth anniversary of my learning that John Lennon had been killed. Blame the time difference between New York and London.

I have no idea what I did the day before or the day after, but I remember waking up on 9 December 1980 with the radio alarm as usual. I was a student living in Halls of Residence at the Compton Park campus in Wolverhampton at the time. They were playing a Beatles song and then another and another. I lay there half asleep enjoying the treat until I realised that in over 10 minutes I hadn't even heard the DJ and this was unheard of on Beacon Radio in 1980. Then, of course, the news came on and I found out.



At breakfast many people were very quiet and I must have been rather surly as someone expressed condolences as if a family member had died. I didn't go to any lectures that day; instead I spent the day in the bar of the Students' Union with Helen the manager and her boyfriend, John. We dressed the Christmas Tree  and hung festive decorations while the radio played Beatles/Lennon songs and particularly (Just Like) Starting Over with understated irony. There was a gig in the evening, by a local band called something like Johnny and the Hurricanes. There wasn't much atmosphere and they weren't that good. 

That was the first time I properly understood what it was to be upset at the loss of someone you'd never actually met. That was the first time I understood the power of Hero worship. I'd been left indifferent by the death of Elvis, but when Lennon died, it was different.

Happy Birthday...

...to mrs_karen_bear

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

Happy Birthday...

...to mrs_karen_bear

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!