Give Peace A Chance

Twenty-five years ago today, one of rock music's biggest influences was gunned down outside a New York City hotel. John Lennon, former Beatle and one-half of the legendary Lennon-McCartney songwriting duo, lay dying in the foyer of his residence.

I'll never forget that night. It was a Monday, and like all Monday nights, I was working with my newspaper staff in college doing our weekly all-nighter preparing that week's edition. The glaze on our eyes was lifted when the radio announcer interrupted the song to tell us that Lennon had died.

To a generation that grew up on the Beatles, Lennon's death was no less significant than were the deaths of Buddy Holly and James Dean for the generation before. Lennon helped usher in a new ear of rock music, one tinged with philosophical and political messages. His death ensured that he and his mates would never reunite.

Lennon was a clever songwriter. Playing upon the whole "Paul is dead" rumor that circulated for years, Lennon included oblique "clues" in his lyrics that only fueled speculation that McCartney really was gone. "I Am The Walrus" featured some of Lennon's best writing. Drawing heavily upon Lewis Carroll's The Walrus and the Carpenter poem in Alice in Wonderland, as well as Finnegan's Wake by James Joyce and other obscure songs and books, Lennon provided the set-up. In "Glass Onion," Lennon resolved: "Here's another clue for you all, the Walrus is Paul."

Ah yes, a PR master. Keep the folks guessing, and sell a few million more albums.

Four years ago I viewed the John Lennon exhibit at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland ("Cleveland rocks! Cleveland rocks!"). There I saw handwritten lyrics to many of Lennon's songs, photos of him with or without the Beatles, and pictures of him with his beloved Yoko Ono. It was a fitting tribute to one of the greatest musicians of the era, one who recognized his influence and went so far as to say in 1996, "We're more popular than Jesus right now." He was right in a twisted kind of way.

And so one cold December afternoon in the Big Apple, a deranged fan by the name of Mark David Chapman met Lennon outside The Dakota hotel. Lennon was on his way with Yoko to the recording studio. Chapman begged Lennon to autograph his copy of Double Fantasy, to which Lennon obliged.

Chapman hung around the hotel the rest of the evening. A little before 11pm a limousine arrived, and Yoko exited first, followed shortly by Lennon. With Yoko already in the building, Chapman, who had been lying in wait, startled him and called out "Mr. Lennon."

Lennon turned, and Chapman fire five bullets. Four hit their target. Lennon crawled inside the hotel and lay there dying, while Chapman sat down and proceeded to read a copy of Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye.

At the ripe young age of 40, Lennon died in the ER.Today we mark another day that the music died. While Lennon may have espoused ideas contrary to what many believe and had an ego the size of a deity, few can argue that his music wasn't good. He and McCartney set the stage for rock music for many years to come. Today their music sounds as fresh and clever as it did over 35 years ago.

Had he lived, would the Beatles ever reunited? Would Lennon and McCartney write one more song?We can only imagine.

Dr "Strawberry Fields Forever" Gerlich