December 1980

I was going to start off saying that anyone of "a certain age" will know what this post is about just by the title. As I thought about it, I couldn't quite put my finger on what that age would be - deciding, finally, that just about anyone who is going to read this will know; no matter the age.

Introduction

As I sit to write this it is just past midnight on 15 December - yesterday marked 40 years since the vigil held outside the Dakota on 14 December 1980, just six (6) days after John Lennon was assassinated as he returned home from the recording studio. I was there that cold December day, standing on the corner of 72nd Street & Central Park West staring at the entryway to the courtyard where he was gunned down. I have seen estimates from between 150,000 and 500,000 people were there - between the Dakota, Strawberry Fields across the street and Central Park.

December 8

That Monday was just like any other day in 1980 - I went to work, went home, ate dinner and, watched some television before going to bed. It was some time around midnight that my father woke me up, telling me that my girlfriend was on the phone. I couldn't imagine what she was calling about so late. She told me that John Lennon had been murdered earlier that evening. It was like I was gut punched; I was at a loss of words but I think I managed to say something like, "What a bummer." I then said I had to get some sleep because I had to work in the morning. John had been shot at 10:50 PM and pronounced dead at 11:15 PM. Howard Cosell interrupted the Monday Night Football broadcast to announce his death. In 1974, John had visited the Monday Night Football broadcast booth, chatting with Cosell.

When I got up on the morning of 9 December the events of the night before hit me like a ton of bricks. It just didn't seem real - on my way to work I bought every newspaper I could get my hands on. I read articles in every one of them, hoping to read that it was some elaborate hoax. He had just released Double Fantasy, his first album in five (5) years and was talking about touring. I couldn't wait to see him perform! Every damned newspaper confirmed what I already knew - John Lennon was dead at age 40....

I felt the need to be with others who were having the same feelings I was; I wanted to be at the Dakota but I had just started my job in February and couldn't take time off. When it was announced there would be a vigil on 14 December there was no question about whether or not I would be there.

December 14 - The Vigil

The details of the day elude me but the feeling will never go away - 40 years later they are as fresh as ever. My girlfriend and I got there early - taking the train to Penn Station and then subway to 72nd Street. If I remember correctly, the subway station is right under the Dakota. There was a small crowd so we were able to work our way to the corner of the building and stand right up against the barriers at the end of the street. Every radio station was playing John Lennon or The Beatles and telling stories. I knew I was right where I had to be.

It didn't take long before the entire area was filled with people - some holding signs, some with radios and everyone coexisting peacefully despite being pressed together like sardines. It was very cold but, honestly, I didn't feel it at all.

Yoko had asked that, at 2:00 PM, everyone participate in a 10 minute silent vigil to remember John. Right on cue, at 2:00 PM all of the radios fell dead silent and not a single person said a word. The only sounds were distant rumbling of traffic and three or four of NYPD uniform officers laughing as they stood guard at the entry way to the building. It was during that 10 minutes of silence that it began to snow. It was almost as though someone flipped a switch and when the 10 minutes were over, so was the snow. It was eerie and I still get chills thinking about it.

We hung around for a while after the vigil was over and then headed back to the subway, emotionally drained but surprisingly at peace. I think being with so many others was very therapeutic. It is a memory that will stay with me for the rest of my life, and yet, I sure as hell wish it never had to have been held at all.

The Years Since

I have been back to the Dakota a few times in the years since - mainly on my way to visit Strawberry Fields in Central Park. I have some photos that I took during one of the trips but they have been packed away - some day I will get them out and scan them for another post. Every year I say that I am going to visit again but just never have.

This past October John would have turned 80 years old and there were quite a few specials on television and radio. Paul McCartney did a few special shows with Alec Baldwin and another with Sean Lennon. Tributes came from every corner of the music industry. His music is just as important now as it was when he was making it.

When I sat down to write this I opened YouTube and found the album, Imagine. The title track is my favorite song - bar none. It is such a simple, yet powerful song. The song was released 49 years ago and we still haven't gotten the message. It is now almost 1:30 AM and I have switched to Mind Games - Bring On The Lucie (Freda Peeple) is playing. If I had to pick favorite solo albums, it might just be Imagine and Mind Games with Double Fantasy close behind. It's tough though - Double Fantasy has some terrific tracks (well, John's tracks anyway) and you can tell he is happy. I think that is what makes his death that much more difficult; he was always fighting some inner demons but he finally seemed to work things out and start loving life.

Where were you when you heard of John's murder? Did you go to the Dakota? Strawberry Fields? The Vigil? I would love to hear your stories - leave them in the comments below.

I think this is a good time to wrap things up and go to bed - I have to work in the morning.

Please do me a small favor and share this post with others, for there’s a good chance that others might enjoy it, too! You will find "Shar" link at the bottom of this post. Thank you!

Emotion and Memory Triggers - What Makes You Happy? Sad?

Has this ever happened to you; you're sitting in your living room watching television when you suddenly feel yourself smiling for no apparent reason. Maybe you can no longer listen to a song you always loved. It could be a smell that elicits a fond memory or even a single word. These are just a few of what I call “emotional triggers” that can make you happy, sad, mad, nostalgic, etc.…. You may not even realize it; I know it happens to me sometimes. The funny thing is that the same trigger may make you happy one time and sad the next.

For me, smell seems to be the biggest trigger and it almost always brings me back to my youth. There are times when I’m not even sure the smell actually exists and that it is just a figment of my imagination. It is almost like I am subconsciously thinking of something and then my brain conjures up the smell, triggering the memory. I’m sure a psychiatrist would love to get me on a couch and analyze that!

The smell of lavender instantly brings memories of my maternal grandmother and the smell of a baked ham will always mean Easter at her house. The smell of pipe tobacco is a strong trigger – my great-uncle, Verner, smoked a pipe, as did my uncle, George, and my father-in-law, Mike. Now that I think of it, maybe the “phantom” smell isn’t so odd – I remember speaking with my great-aunt, Inez, shortly after Verner’s death and she told me that there were times when she would turn expecting to see him because she could smell his tobacco. Tomato sauce (yes – sauce, not gravy) cooking on the stove always reminds me of my mother making sauce on Sunday.

There is a certain smell or combination of smells, that reminds me of being at my Aunt Sissy’s house on a Sunday afternoon but I just can’t describe what it is, but I can tell you that whenever I eat a black olive or see a kid putting them on their fingers I am instantly drawn into her kitchen. That clean smell you get stepping outside on a morning when the grass is covered in dew – that brings me to Inez’s house and the time I spent there in the summer growing up.

There are verbal or audible triggers, too. If I am watching any sporting event and someone complains about a call, or lack thereof, I hear the words coming out of my mother-in-law, Joyce’s mouth. She was quite a passionate fan of the New York Giants and let the officials know when they weren’t doing their jobs – especially when the Dallas Cowboys were the opponent. The word “melancholy” brings mixed emotions – my grandmother told a story one time of when she was growing up; apparently she had quite a difficult time pronouncing the word and put the emphasis on the second syllable instead of the first. She told that story more than 40 years ago and it is the first thing I think of whenever I hear or read that word. If I hear “Lassie” or even the theme song I think of my children, the kids absolutely loved the 1994 movie and there were days when it might get played three times in a row! It would be on when we were building towers out of cardboard blocks or building something with the plastic Lego-style boxes that wipes came in. There are a lot of words that elicit memories of the children growing up – far too many to even count.

I mentioned songs in the introduction and there are plenty. I wrote about The Power of Music and how certain songs trigger very specific memories. I wrote in that post about Harry Chapin’s song, Circle, and that I cannot listen to it anymore, especially the live version. There are a couple reasons – the first being that Harry closed every show with that song; it contains the line “we’ll all be together again” but we won’t. The other reason is because it makes me think of friends and family who have died and it makes me sad. The other song I wrote about is Ringo Starr’s, Photograph. I loved that song growing up but since Ringo introduced it at The Concert for George; he said that since George died the song had new meaning and, like Circle, listening to it makes me melancholy. (Note: I just smiled when I wrote that – did not intend to use melancholy….)

Songs also trigger great memories like Pete Seeger singing There Was an Old Woman or Tom Chapin singing The Cousins are Coming and Bruno. These were songs that we listened to when the kids were young. We took them to see Pete Seeger perform at a Clearwater Festival at Sandy Hook when they were maybe 3 and 5. I printed a couple pictures and put something on them about how the kids loved Pete and we gave them to one of his stage hands after the show. We tried to meet him but they wouldn’t let us in. A week or so after the show a letter showed up addressed to the kids – it was from Pete! Can’t Help Falling in Love and In My Life are special songs; I proposed to my wife dancing to the former and our first dance after we were married was to the latter. I don’t dance anymore but don’t really have an option if they are played at a wedding reception or other event….

There are the visual triggers. My first car was a blue 1966 Chevy and whenever I see a blue car of that era I immediately think of it and Inez. The car was a gift from her; she promised it to me when she bought it, when I started to drive she would give it to me. Well, I had to wait almost two years after I started driving it but I finally got it. It was a four door, “three on the tree” and had no radio. I only had the car for a few months in 1978 when I was rear-ended at a stop sign. The car was totaled. This was just before Christmas and I was afraid of how she was going to take the news when I saw her. I don’t remember her reaction but we all got through it so it couldn’t have been too bad.

Watching the Little League World Series reminds me of my days playing Little League and then watching my son play. The same goes for the College Softball Championships – my daughter played softball and I have fond memories of watching both. If I see someone skiing I think back to the first time I ever skied – my wife and I went on a trip shortly after we started dating. I caught on fairly well and decided to go to an intermediate slope. We were taught how to snow plow in order to stop and it worked quite well. The problem is that I was going rather fast and when I tried to snow plow the tips of my skis crossed causing me to come to an abrupt stop – this is very much like applying only the front brake on a bicycle. I went tumbling head-over-heels before coming to a stop in a heap at the bottom of the hill. The goggles I was wearing had pulled away from my face long enough to get filled with snow and then go back in place. Embarrassing…

I also think of my wife whenever I see a clown or Harpo Marx. The first Halloween we were together she dressed as a clown and I had a picture of her on my desk at work. My co-workers had never met her and that was the only photo I had. She came into the office one day and when I introduced her one of them said “So, you are the clown.” I got a “look” until I showed her the photo on my desk. She was Harpo a year or two later.

I could go on for a long time, so many triggers to so many memories, but I think this is a good time to stop. What are your triggers? Let me know in the comments below.