Someday there'll be an answer...let it be

John Winston Ono Lennon. Father. Husband. Beatle. Musical genius. Pacifist. Legend.

This coming Thursday, December 8th, marks the 25th anniversary of the murder of John Lennon. A quarter of a century. Boggles the mind. I heard about it on the morning of December 9th while I was getting ready for school. It seemed impossible. WHO would kill John Lennon?! And WHY?? I shed a few tears and went to my room to get dressed. Of course, I put on a Beatles album when I got there.

As I dressed, in black from head to toe, I thought about how my hopes of the Beatles reuniting for one last tour were now gone. The only chance I had of seeing them perform live shattered into a million pieces in the amount of time it took for Mark David Chapman to pump four pieces of lead into Lennon. Then I thought about his kids. Julian was only a few years older than I was and Sean...he was only 5. Any age is a tough age to lose a parent. (I would find that out first hand in just 4 1/2 years.) But 5 years old?! The thought that someone could kill a musical legend like Lennon made me mad enough, but to murder the father of a small child...it just infuriated me. Sure, happens all time. But this was high profile, so it seemed much more real to me.

I walked to school and as I entered the building, I was greeted by Beatles music. That entire day, we had the Beatles playing over the PA system. Some kids wore all black like I did. Some wore Beatles tee shirts and others simply wore black arm bands.

For years, I kept wishing they had given Chapman the death penalty. Yoko keeps fighting to keep him from getting paroled. Now, I find myself wishing that they WOULD parole him. Sure. Why not? Put him back on the streets and see how long he lasts before some die hard fan decides to take him out of the game.

So Thursday...25 years. For me, it will be another day filled with Beatles music. Another day when I'll be dressed in black. Another day when I think about how short life really is. You just never know when your number is gonna come up. Which brings me back to Billy Clyde and the very first entry I made in this blog. It's time to be happy. If not now, when? Tomorrow may be too late.

Rest in Peace, John.