The evening of December 8

The evening of December 8, 1980 I was working the night shift at a rock radio station in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I'd only been in radio broadcasting for a couple of years at that point and the station I worked for didn't even have a news wire machine or a television in the studio. So when all the phone lines lit up at once and people started anxiously asking if it was true that John Lennon had been shot it was quite a shock. I had to call a close friend to get confirmation.

It is a strange feeling to be in media when something of such a magnitude happens. Being a child of the 60's I am quite a Beatles fan and rock music lover. That night I had to open the microphone and tell the audience that a music icon was dead, gunned down by an obsessed fanatic. It was an odd sensation.

It wasn't until after my show ended at midnight that I was able to let the news really sink in. I played Beatles and Lennon records late into the night. The next morning I went into the production room at the radio station and started working on a tribute special. Somehow it was cathartic.

John Lennon was human and he had his faults. Just like any of us. Heroes have clay feet. Nevertheless, he also made a huge impact on our culture. As he said in his song Imagine, "you may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one". So very true. His music and his message continue on in his sons, wife, friends and fans. Another line from one of his songs, a favorite of mine from Watching the Wheels (From the album Double Fantasy, the record he'd just put out shortly before his tragic death) speaks volumes to me as a personal historian.

Ah, people asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them there's no problem, only solutions
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I've lost my mind
I tell them there's no hurry
I'm just sitting here doing time