December 8th, 1980

Yesterday marked the thirty year anniversary of when John Lennon was shot down outside the Dakota by Mark David Chapman with a .38 revolver at 10:50 pm.

Ten years ago, for the twentieth anniversary, Mike and I went up to New York to go to Strawberry Fields.  (Since I was only 18, my parents wouldn’t let me go alone.)

I went alone yesterday.  I took the bus in at one, got to New York probably right around or just before two.  I got myself acclimated, direction-wise, and set off.  I wanted to visit that huge Barnes and Noble, (and I forgot to go back for that book, dangit!) I went to Build-A-Bear, I stopped in a few different gift shops and this one really neat antique/statue kind of place.  I went to FAO Schwartz, but didn’t stay long and didn’t try to find the huge piano cuz it was just too crowded in there.  An entrance to Central Park lies just across the street from FAO Schwartz, though, so I crossed and went up several more blocks till I was past the zoo, then went in the park to cut across and get to Strawberry Fields and the Dakota.

When I got there, there were news trucks and already a sizeable crowd.  There were people set up with guitars, leading a sing-along of John’s songs.  I came as they were doing In My Life.  I joined the crowd as Strawberry Fields Forever began.  It was a wonderful thing, being there with all these different people who loved John as well.  There was just this feeling of togetherness and harmony and one-ness that I’ve never experienced before being in that crowd of people, the muted singing of ‘Let me take you down, cuz I’m going to Strawberry Fields . . .  Nothing is real . . . and nothing to get hung about . . .  Strawberry Fields Forever . . .’

I didn’t stay long, but I’ve never felt as connected, as part of something as I did for those brief moments in that crowd.

I went to the Dakota next, standing in front of the place where the first of the Beatles died.

When I walked back, dusk was falling across the park, and let me tell you, Central Park is gorgeous at dusk.  It was night when I was walking back down the city blocks on the other side of the park.  I went to Rockerfeller Center to watch the skaters and see the tree.  Directly opposite the tree on Fifth Avenue was a building that had some kind of projection on it with snow flakes and bubbles.  That was just awesome.  It was amazingly gorgeous and just beautiful to see.

The weather wasn’t that bad, either.  Lol, I must admit, I’d always been intimidated by the idea of going to New York alone.  It scared the heck outta me.  I didn’t really know where anything was, or how to get to places I wanted to be, or what to do if I got lost . . .  But I was actually okay.  I just went up there two months ago today, and the places I wanted to go to were all in pretty much a straight line.

To be honest, I can’t wait till I have some money and can go up there again.  I will, but after the weather warms up some.

It was definitely worth it to go, though.

R.I.P. John, October 9th, 1940 – December 8th, 1980.