Today marks the 24th anniversary of John Lennon's death. I still clearly remember where I was when I received the horrible news. I was working swing shift at a call center in 1980, it was appproximately 9:00 p.m. when a caller stammered in disbelief, "They've shot John Lennon." I couldn't believe my ears and asked, "What?" "They've shot John Lennon. I think he's dead!"
I don't remember ending or finishing the call. I don't know if the client ever received assistance. I doubt that he cared at that point. I simply remember feeling very, very sad and in shock. I didn't want to believe that what I'd heard was true. I rushed home, turned on the news and indeed, Lennon was dead.
All hopes of a possible, if not probable, Beatles reunion vanished. I knew I'd never have an opportunity to see John Lennon in concert. His album Double Fantasy was about to be promoted and I'd been eagerly anticipating its release. I was in shock and his death was profound.