Where Were You on December 8th?
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lyle_from_minneapolis
- Advanced Member
- Posts: 2530
- Joined: Sun Nov 19, 2006 7:13 pm
Where Were You on December 8th?
Here comes that damned anniversary again. Since December 8th is almost upon us, I thought I'd ask you all for some memories of where you were when you heard the news, oh boy, that John Lennon had died.
Here is where I hide my music:
http://www.soundclick.com/MarkKaufman
http://www.soundclick.com/MarkKaufman
Believe it or not, but I was in my room listening to Double Fantasy with MNF on too. I had the music on low and could hear Cosell. I heard the name Lennon but didn't know what he was talking about. No more than 2 minutes later my friend called me and told me what happened.
I remember going to school the next day and my friends asking if I was ok. I was a junior in high school.
I remember going to school the next day and my friends asking if I was ok. I was a junior in high school.
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I was at home and got a call from a friend.... and I didn't believe him at first. I had moved from NYC to HI about 2 years earlier and I felt very wrong... out of place... guilty perhaps... at being so far away from the terrible event.
I find it hard to comprehend that it's been over 1/4 of a century since that day.
I find it hard to comprehend that it's been over 1/4 of a century since that day.
“The urge to save humanity is always a false front for the urge to rule it.” ....H. L. Mencken
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lyle_from_minneapolis
- Advanced Member
- Posts: 2530
- Joined: Sun Nov 19, 2006 7:13 pm
My story still gives me a chill, and forever opened my eyes to the existence of unseen forces at work in this world.
I was a college student in St. Cloud, Minnesota and was playing that night at a bar called the Grand Mantel. On that night there were four one-hour timeslots filled by local solo musicians, and I had the 11pm slot. I had played a few of these gigs before, just me and my guitar and the few songs I had written at that time, so on this night, of all nights, I had planned to play all Beatles songs.
This was before he was shot, understand. I was jazzed by the idea and figured this would go over pretty well. It was a college audience of about 50 - 70 people on average, crammed into a basement bar with lots of cool brick arches. A nice, cozy atmosphere for watching small acts and drinking and conversing.
My friend drove me to the gig, and we were listening to the radio and there it came...a confused jumble of info coming from a DJ suddenly in over his head, scrambling to relay what was coming over the wires, tripping over his words, clearly rattled...but the point was inescapable. John Lennon died.
It cut me like a knife. I was so angry. How could this be? Why? First Reagan, now this! (Some of us were still wrestling with disbelief that Ronald Reagan had won the Presidency with ease.) I walked into the bar with my guitar and immediately downed a scotch, groping with the weirdness of it all, stunned by the cosmic joke of my impending Beatles set.
I walked onstage and told the audience that I had just heard some terrible news, that John Lennon had just been shot to death in New York.
And they all laughed at me. I was stunned once again, but it made sense. Some of those who had seen me perform there knew that I was also an actor, and that instead of boring musician-on-stage-talk, I preferred to joke around or even pretend to be some odd character, ala Andy Kaufman (no relation). They thought I was getting into another off-the-wall comedy bit, and they were liking it. I said something like, "no, it's true, sorry to say..." ...well, I can't remember for sure what I said then, but as I kept it up, a feeling of resentment began to build from the audience. I was crossing a line, and it was becoming offensive. And as that slight hostility developed, I opened with "A Day In The Life."
The rest of the set is difficult to remember. I cried a lot while I played these songs in front of a crowd that slowly began to hear the news verified from other people, and the hostility melted into silence and disbelief. I also remember that my performance really sucked. I could always do well with Beatles songs--they just work for me and I have always studied and revered them, since I was a tot listening to the records in my sister's room, fantasizing that we were the Beatles, and she was Ringo and I was John and Dad would say Oh God they're off in Disneyland again... but that night I sounded pretty bad. Just couldn't stop feeling the pain in a physical way, voice cracking and fudging the chords that I knew so well, and it made me angry that I couldn't even pull off a decent tribute to a man who had overshadowed my life in such a profound way.
The set ended and no one applauded, but not because I sucked. They actually appreciated my set--it gave them some space to think about John--but no one could really respond to much that night. Silence seemed better, and I appreciated that as a suitable response too. I sure didn't want to be clapped for. We were all so sad, and we drank too much. And I stayed up all night, being sad and angry, listening to Beatles songs on every radio station.
Sorry to go on so long, but it's a story I'm still coming to grips with. The cosmic irony still baffles and haunts me...the plan to play a Beatles set that night just freaks me out. Some coincidences are too strange to understand, and although I appreciate that it provides me with a sense of true connection with John Lennon, it also brings me down, hard. Because, as connections go, this one I could do without.
I was a college student in St. Cloud, Minnesota and was playing that night at a bar called the Grand Mantel. On that night there were four one-hour timeslots filled by local solo musicians, and I had the 11pm slot. I had played a few of these gigs before, just me and my guitar and the few songs I had written at that time, so on this night, of all nights, I had planned to play all Beatles songs.
This was before he was shot, understand. I was jazzed by the idea and figured this would go over pretty well. It was a college audience of about 50 - 70 people on average, crammed into a basement bar with lots of cool brick arches. A nice, cozy atmosphere for watching small acts and drinking and conversing.
My friend drove me to the gig, and we were listening to the radio and there it came...a confused jumble of info coming from a DJ suddenly in over his head, scrambling to relay what was coming over the wires, tripping over his words, clearly rattled...but the point was inescapable. John Lennon died.
It cut me like a knife. I was so angry. How could this be? Why? First Reagan, now this! (Some of us were still wrestling with disbelief that Ronald Reagan had won the Presidency with ease.) I walked into the bar with my guitar and immediately downed a scotch, groping with the weirdness of it all, stunned by the cosmic joke of my impending Beatles set.
I walked onstage and told the audience that I had just heard some terrible news, that John Lennon had just been shot to death in New York.
And they all laughed at me. I was stunned once again, but it made sense. Some of those who had seen me perform there knew that I was also an actor, and that instead of boring musician-on-stage-talk, I preferred to joke around or even pretend to be some odd character, ala Andy Kaufman (no relation). They thought I was getting into another off-the-wall comedy bit, and they were liking it. I said something like, "no, it's true, sorry to say..." ...well, I can't remember for sure what I said then, but as I kept it up, a feeling of resentment began to build from the audience. I was crossing a line, and it was becoming offensive. And as that slight hostility developed, I opened with "A Day In The Life."
The rest of the set is difficult to remember. I cried a lot while I played these songs in front of a crowd that slowly began to hear the news verified from other people, and the hostility melted into silence and disbelief. I also remember that my performance really sucked. I could always do well with Beatles songs--they just work for me and I have always studied and revered them, since I was a tot listening to the records in my sister's room, fantasizing that we were the Beatles, and she was Ringo and I was John and Dad would say Oh God they're off in Disneyland again... but that night I sounded pretty bad. Just couldn't stop feeling the pain in a physical way, voice cracking and fudging the chords that I knew so well, and it made me angry that I couldn't even pull off a decent tribute to a man who had overshadowed my life in such a profound way.
The set ended and no one applauded, but not because I sucked. They actually appreciated my set--it gave them some space to think about John--but no one could really respond to much that night. Silence seemed better, and I appreciated that as a suitable response too. I sure didn't want to be clapped for. We were all so sad, and we drank too much. And I stayed up all night, being sad and angry, listening to Beatles songs on every radio station.
Sorry to go on so long, but it's a story I'm still coming to grips with. The cosmic irony still baffles and haunts me...the plan to play a Beatles set that night just freaks me out. Some coincidences are too strange to understand, and although I appreciate that it provides me with a sense of true connection with John Lennon, it also brings me down, hard. Because, as connections go, this one I could do without.
Here is where I hide my music:
http://www.soundclick.com/MarkKaufman
http://www.soundclick.com/MarkKaufman
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studiotwosession
- Advanced Member
- Posts: 2215
- Joined: Fri Jul 29, 2005 1:36 pm
I was taking a shower. My Mom knocked on the door and said something. I heard her but had no idea what she had said. So a minute or so later, with a towel wrapped around me, I opened the door and yelled to her (she was downstairs at that point.)
Then I got the message. My friend Bill, who was watching MNF, had called to say that John Lennon had been shot. I don't know if I called him back or switched on the news. But I certainly remember going to my room (which was in the basement) and turning on one of the local FM stations on my crummy clock radio and hearing all Beatles/Lennon stuff, and the DJ talking about it. I was just stunned, and listened quite long into the night, without really listening.
In the morning I was watching one of the TV shows and they were showing footage of Beatles stuff and I cried. When I went to school, a few inches of snow had fallen that night and I remember walking out the door and into that kind of quiet that can only be had outdoors with a new blanket of snow. A church bell was ringing about a mile away. It was haunting and I remember thinking it was ironic. Of course my friends and I, some of them bandmates, just sat around and talked about it at school. I worked that weekend, always a skeleton shift, and I remember it was on the cover of the paper the Saturday after and one of the girls who worked there, who was my age, asked me if I was a fan and I knew it really didn't mean much to her but I understood (and she I guess understood that it really bummed me out.)
Last year, on the 8th, I walked a couple of blocks over to Strawberry Fields around 11 p.m. or so (the one in NYC) for the 25th and there were hundreds of people there. They're rebuilding the pathways as I type this but I saw a sign this weekend that there will be access to the mosaic on the 8th.
It's only been in very recent years that I can think about this without getting tremendously bummed.
Now that I think about it, it's weird that Dec. 7th and 8th are not only right next to each other, but two dates that will live in infamy.
Then I got the message. My friend Bill, who was watching MNF, had called to say that John Lennon had been shot. I don't know if I called him back or switched on the news. But I certainly remember going to my room (which was in the basement) and turning on one of the local FM stations on my crummy clock radio and hearing all Beatles/Lennon stuff, and the DJ talking about it. I was just stunned, and listened quite long into the night, without really listening.
In the morning I was watching one of the TV shows and they were showing footage of Beatles stuff and I cried. When I went to school, a few inches of snow had fallen that night and I remember walking out the door and into that kind of quiet that can only be had outdoors with a new blanket of snow. A church bell was ringing about a mile away. It was haunting and I remember thinking it was ironic. Of course my friends and I, some of them bandmates, just sat around and talked about it at school. I worked that weekend, always a skeleton shift, and I remember it was on the cover of the paper the Saturday after and one of the girls who worked there, who was my age, asked me if I was a fan and I knew it really didn't mean much to her but I understood (and she I guess understood that it really bummed me out.)
Last year, on the 8th, I walked a couple of blocks over to Strawberry Fields around 11 p.m. or so (the one in NYC) for the 25th and there were hundreds of people there. They're rebuilding the pathways as I type this but I saw a sign this weekend that there will be access to the mosaic on the 8th.
It's only been in very recent years that I can think about this without getting tremendously bummed.
Now that I think about it, it's weird that Dec. 7th and 8th are not only right next to each other, but two dates that will live in infamy.
This is off the record
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revolver323
- Intermediate Member
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- Joined: Mon Jul 04, 2005 5:48 am
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I was watching MNF, only because the Steelers were on (and I'm in Pittsburgh). Of course I was in shock. I actually went to bed later and cried. I don't think I'm alone in saying that, like so many musicians my age (57), I would not be who I am if not for the Beatles. I was in a funk for weeks. About the only good that came of it is that Rolling Stone magazine published my letter about the murder in the issue that came out the next week, with John & Yoko on the cover. I'd rather have John alive than have my name in print.
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firstbassman
- Advanced Member
- Posts: 1573
- Joined: Thu Dec 15, 2005 6:00 am
As a kid I was part of the “anti-Beatles movement.” They just seemed TOO popular and all the girls went ga-ga over them. I was in the Dave Clark Five camp. As well as Motown.
And they stayed off my radar (for the most part) until I took up the guitar three years ago.
In December of ’80 I was working in radio (of all things). The DJ was playing nothing but Beatle songs all day. And I was thinking to myself, “why is he going so overboard on this?” Apparently the owner of the station agreed with me cause he called the disk jockey and told him to stop.
I am now repentant and realize the error of my ways. A great, huge loss.
And they stayed off my radar (for the most part) until I took up the guitar three years ago.
In December of ’80 I was working in radio (of all things). The DJ was playing nothing but Beatle songs all day. And I was thinking to myself, “why is he going so overboard on this?” Apparently the owner of the station agreed with me cause he called the disk jockey and told him to stop.
I am now repentant and realize the error of my ways. A great, huge loss.
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studiotwosession
- Advanced Member
- Posts: 2215
- Joined: Fri Jul 29, 2005 1:36 pm
The drummer in my band at that time, fall of '80, had the Playboy Lennon interviews issue.
I read it soon after it came out, and told one of our mutual Beatlemaniac friends that he, too, should read it.
Well, this went on for several weeks. I'd keep asking him, "did you read it yet?" And he'd say, "no, I have to though."
Well, that Dec. 9th or so I found out that my two buddies were hanging out the night before, one of them reading the other's Lennon interview issue, when the owner of the magazine's Mom informed them of the shooting.
In a relaated note, I had a girlfriend once whose birthday is 12/8. I should have known that wasn't going to work out.
I read it soon after it came out, and told one of our mutual Beatlemaniac friends that he, too, should read it.
Well, this went on for several weeks. I'd keep asking him, "did you read it yet?" And he'd say, "no, I have to though."
Well, that Dec. 9th or so I found out that my two buddies were hanging out the night before, one of them reading the other's Lennon interview issue, when the owner of the magazine's Mom informed them of the shooting.
In a relaated note, I had a girlfriend once whose birthday is 12/8. I should have known that wasn't going to work out.
This is off the record
I had just finished teaching a Karate Class at my Dad's Dojo here in NYC when I got a call from home telling me the news.
I was in shock. I drove home and popped a cassette tape into my recorder and began recording the radio coverage on what was then WNEW FM. I still have that tape and listen to it every year on Dec. 8th. It's still chilling all these years later, and very very sad.
I was in shock. I drove home and popped a cassette tape into my recorder and began recording the radio coverage on what was then WNEW FM. I still have that tape and listen to it every year on Dec. 8th. It's still chilling all these years later, and very very sad.
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shamustwin
- Senior Member
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- Joined: Tue Apr 29, 2003 5:00 am
I was out to dinner here in California about the time it happened. Went home and to sleep, having the next day off.
The following morning the phone rang and my best friend asked me if I'd heard (he knew I hadn't - my fiance at the time had asked him to break the news to me).
He tried to prepare me before telling me - I, like so many, was flattened and could not fathom why Lennon, of all people, was shot.
The following morning the phone rang and my best friend asked me if I'd heard (he knew I hadn't - my fiance at the time had asked him to break the news to me).
He tried to prepare me before telling me - I, like so many, was flattened and could not fathom why Lennon, of all people, was shot.
