...When All is Said and Dunn

Last Friday, December 8, marked the 20th Anniversary of the assassination of music legend John Lennon. That day, twenty years ago, was far and away one of the worst days of my life. There is no way to express the sense of loss that I felt when I heard the news. I was sitting in my living room watching Monday Night Football when Howard Cosell informed me, and the rest of America, what had happened in front of the Dakota Apartments in New York that night and my heart just sank.

I have never been affected by the death of a celebrity beyond the sadness of knowing that I would never be able to experience new work by them. Not knowing them on a personal level the loss would be far removed. But this was different; this was more like losing a parent. This was a person, who even though I had never met, had a key role in my upbringing. He had influenced me not just with his music but in his philosophies and his actions.

He had been part of my life since I was 8 years old and his music had been the soundtrack to my youth. At the time of his death he was once again giving the world the gift of his musical talents which had remained dormant while he was raising his youngest son. The album “Double Fantasy” had just been released and it pointed to a new era of musical magic from John Lennon. Sadly an era that was cut short by a madman's bullets.

With all the press over the anniversary of his death and the release of a new compilation album by The Beatles I began listening to his music more than usual. In doing so, my kids began to ask questions about who we were listening to. I did my best to explain without becoming over zealous in my description. Hoping that somewhere in their future they would be able to understand the contribution made by this man.

he fact that I was discussing The Beatles as a history lesson with my kids just seemed so bizarre. The memories of The Beatles and their music are still so fresh in my mind it feels as though it was only yesterday. Having to recite their first and last names and what instruments they played was such an alien exercise, probably because everyone who is my age knows it by heart.

My ever-curious 9-year-old Alex was peppering me with questions every time the song on the CD changed. He finally got around to the inevitable question “Are they still alive?” I explained that all but one was and of course he wanted to know how he died. I was torn about how to answer his question. Alex is very sensitive about this kind of stuff, so I took it one step at a time.

I didn't want to unleash the tirade that usually accompanies my discussing Lennon's assassination. Because of how passionate and angry I get at the entire situation I thought it best to take it slowly to see how much information he required. A week ago he was absolutely devastated by the news that he missed making “Honor Roll” at his school by a percentage point. So I decided not to go into all the gruesome details and give him the minimalist version.

After I explained that a crazy “fan” shot him he wanted to know if they caught the guy. I said yes. Next he wanted to know where the “fan” was now. I told him that the killer was in a mental hospital. Next Alex wanted to know what a mental hospital was. I told him that's where they put people who have mental diseases. Then he wanted to know if he would ever get out of this place. Not knowing for sure but being hopeful I said, “No, I don't think so”.

What I didn't share with Alex at this stage of his life was the deep-seeded venom I feel towards this “fan” and his senseless crime. That I didn't think he was crazy. That I think he is a cold-blooded murderer who should never be allowed to walk among us again. Alex would never understand how badly I wanted this guy to be in prison on death row. How current executions were far too humane a death for someone who deprived the entire world of who knows how many years of great music and peaceful social activism.

If you noticed, I have not mentioned the name of the pathetic little weasel who committed this heinous crime. The reason he gave for committing the crime in the first place was to “get attention and to be remembered”. Therefore, I am not about to give him one millisecond of recognition or acknowledgement. I would not sell him my spit if he were dying of thirst. At a recent parole hearing this killer said that if John were alive he would forgive him and want him released. Well, we will never know that because someone not worthy of taking out his garbage has extinguished his flame of life.

Maybe John would be that compassionate, but this is where he and I would disagree. While it is divine to forgive, I can never forget. With all the lessons that were given to me by him in his all too brief time on this earth, this is one that I can not abide by.

The void that was created when he left disrupted so many peoples lives, that it can never be erased or replaced

I know that there will never be anyone in Alex's young life to rival the impact that John Lennon had on mine and I find that sad. I can only hope that by sharing the gifts that were given to me at his age, such as John Lennon's messages of “Give Peace a Chance” and “All We Need is Love” will transcend his tragic death and live on for generations to come.