#John Lennon memorial

[scopophilic1997]

scopOphilic_micromessaging_964 - scopOphilic1997 presents a new micro-messaging series: small, subtle, and often unintentional messages we send and receive verbally and non-verbally.

With Love to Janis and John!

[ringosmistress]

[ceofjohnlennon]

Same John Lennon, different years. ㅡ From the book "John Lennon My Brother: Memories of Growing Up Together" by Julia Baird.

[nevereverywhere]

The Beatles promotional projections for Now and Then in Liverpool

[javelinbk]

“I never think about Beatles songs,” [John] said. “I use them as me calendar. That’s how I remember when things in me life happened: I remember where I was when Paul and I wrote a song. But outside of that, I don’t give them much attention. I seldom play them. I rarely listen to them. Especially the early songs.”

Excerpt From, ‘We All Shine On’, Elliot Mintz

[crepesuzette2023]

Ivan Vaughan writes about John and Paul

This is just a relatively brief excerpt from Ivan Vaughan's book, which, for the most part, focuses on his life with Parkinson's disease. (From what I can tell so far, it's absolutely fascinating: far more than 'simply' a memoir, it's a reflection on illness, the mind-body connection, science, psychotropic drugs, patients' autonomy...and much more.)

But since this blog is climbing the drainpipe to the John & Paul business, and there's been some recent discussion of Mark Lewisohn's claim that John was such a bad boy Ivan's mother sent her son to a different grammar school to separate the two, I thought the following might be interesting.

And the ending of this chapter also gives some context to Paul's reaction to John's murder—another topic about which ML has interesting opinions.

This isn't to pile on ML, but more...as words from someone who was there.

(CC: @mythserene, @anotherkindofmindpod) I met John when I was three or four years old. One wet morning there was a knock at the front door. My mother opened it, and looking down, found a boy a bit older than me, smiling, but preoccupied with the effort of remembering what he had been rehearsed to say.

‘I believe a little boy lives here. I wondered if you might like to come out and play.’ He stood there in the porch, rain pouring down behind him, with a pair of slippers under his arm.

‘Come on in. What’s your name? You live round the corner don’t you?’

Next day I went around to the house where he lived with his aunt and uncle. We played with Dinky cars. I was surprised by his generosity and willingness to share his toys; he was happy even for me to take some of them home. When his Uncle George came home with some sweets John readily shared them. There was an immediate bond between us. He was older, read books, and his great intelligence and experience were apparent. I accepted his leadership but I was determined to preserve my independence. From the warm security of Aunt Mimi’s control, John accepted me into his life.

John was a member of his local library and immersed himself in books so that by the age of five he was already a fluent reader. I was still in the infant school when he started at Dovedale Road Primary School, but we played together after school and weekends. There were numerous parks, a golf course, and fields full of tangled growth and trees — just right for playing cowboys and Indians. In one barren area with large lumps of hard earth we played football and cricket. We spent hours digging all tracks to race our Dinky cars. Our most exciting game, though, was ‘fires’. We would go to a large area of waste ground and simply set fire to the straw and watch the place. I have never understood why nobody stopped us.

John’s gang comprised, besides himself, Pete Shotton, Nigel Wally and me. I was the youngest and was constantly having to prove my worth. I feel privileged to be John’s friend since he was nearly two years older. He protected me against Timmy Tarbuck and his gang on the rare occasions when I made the mistake of confronting one of them.

John and I went to different grammar schools, but I used to hear about the chaos and riots that seem to be a daily feature of his schooling. I’d rather lost touch with him when I went to university, and did not see him again until sometime after I was married. Then one day, as I was playing with my little boy Jus on the steps of our house in London, white Rolls Royce turned into the road. John jumped out followed by a woman I have not met before.

‘Hello, Ivy! This is Yoko.’ (…)

My attachment to both John and Paul ran deep and occasionally I would go to great lengths in order to see them at a moment’s notice. Maybe Paul saw our continuing friendship as a way of maintaining simple values he held dear. Jan liked Paul, though she did not see much of John. She was not the least bit mesmerized by their fame. She enjoyed eating at expensive restaurants in sampling London’s nightlife, into which Paul took us from time to time. But, should the effort to come to great, she was willing to let the relationship fade.

A month after telephoning John in New York [with the news of the Parkinson’s diagnosis; their first conversation in years], a heavy parcel was delivered. It was not until I was reading the titles of the books it contained that I realized they had been sent by John and Yoko. There was one by Arthur Janov, author of the Primal Scream, and one entitled Mind Magic. How to Get Well had on the fly-leaf a message from John that read ‘to start looking’, and The Snow Leopard had a note saying ‘to relax’. This last book gave me the greatest pleasure and I frequently re-read passages from it. Its author, Peter Matthiesen, lost his son through illness and journeyed in Nepal and in Inner Dolpo on a completely pointless journey to catch sight of a snow leopard. The peace he found travels across to the reader from each page.

John’s accompanying letter urged me, in punning language, to keep my spirits high and strongly suggested that it was up to me whether I sank or swam. I must not lose faith in myself.

Ten weeks later he was shot dead. Paul and I did not contact each other about it; in fact, we never brought it up in conversation. I hardly reacted outwardly at all. The day after John’s death, however, a colleague said that he supposed I was very upset at what it happened. I heard myself say: ‘I don’t know what I feel. I don’t know that I feel much at all’. As soon as he had gone, I instinctively made my way to a room where I knew I could be alone, and I wept profusely.

-- from Ivan-Living with Parkinson's Disease by Ivan Vaughan. 1986.

[ribcagebonemeal]

free draw doodles of the bugs. I fear

[fuzuki0]

In memory of John Lennon🍂

We miss you, John ;(

[brookbee]

David Bowie performing "Imagine" in Hong Kong, 1983

[rhapsodynew]

#memorial day

On this day in 1980, an attempt was made on John Lennon's life. After 25 minutes, he died due to heavy blood loss. RIP

It is a pity that such a great Romantic of music, John Lennon, has left our world. The singer of peace got bullets. The murderer Mark Chapman himself, when he was arrested after the murder, said that if he had not managed to kill John, he would have killed David Bowie, who was on tour in America at the time. In general, the killer is a complete psychopath and a moral freak. Bright memory to John. Thank him for the thrill of the soul. His songs are imbued with bright positive energy, which is so lacking in our imperfect world, where negativity is more than joy. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Where were you when John Lennon was killed?

"I was in my third year of college in San Francisco, a moody punk lying on the bed in my room at my parents' house and listening to Devo. My sworn enemy, my mother, came in to me with an ashen face. I asked sarcastically: “Who's dead now?”When she answered, my face reflected her expression. This news silenced me" – VA

"I was in high school at Curtis High School on Staten Island. My friends and I were big fans of the Beatles, and John Lennon in particular. The morning after the pledge of allegiance to the school, one of my friends went into the sound reinforcement room and asked for a minute of silence in memory of Lennon. The school administration punished him for the unauthorized announcement. That Saturday, a group of my friends went to a longer minute of silence in central park. I remember it was very cold. We fervently hoped that as a result of his senseless death, appropriate gun control laws would be passed. It would be a fitting tribute. Ah, the youthful idealism inspired by Lennon and never faded to the end" – Alison W. Reed

"I heard gunshots for the first time in my life. They didn't sound like they were on TV at all. Bang, bang, bang. My parents and I looked down at the chaos unfolding on West 72nd Street, 22 floors below and east of our terrace. It was the first time I saw my parents crying at the same time" – Dinny

"I was in my college dorm room watching Monday Night Football with a group of other freshmen from the Midwest. I remember Howard Cosell's voice breaking when he broke the news. After that, everyone poured out into the corridors, and The Beatles' songs could be heard through the crying" – Nuel

"I remember the expression on my father's face and his changed voice; he seemed meek, defeated, as if the pallor of his face had spread to his entire being. At that moment, I realized that even a person who worked on the creation of missile guidance systems can be shocked and depressed by the death of a man whose demise was the last blow that turned the course of events towards good"

– Eric

"We learned about John's death from the then communist Czechoslovakia on Radio Luxembourg. I was 9 years old, and I remember how sad my parents were, especially my mom. Soon after, students began painting an image of John Lennon and his call for peace on one of the walls in Prague's old town. The authorities didn't like it and painted over the “Lennon Wall,” as everyone called it. It was always restored within a few hours" – Andrea

I just walked a friend to her house on West 72nd Street,

about 100 meters from Dakota. As I was leaving her entrance, I heard a sound like a car exhaust, and a few seconds later I heard people screaming and saw that they were coming from Dakota. I, like many others, went towards Central Park, and almost immediately sirens started wailing from all sides.

At that moment, I couldn't get close enough to understand what had happened. I went home and turned on the TV to listen to the news. Like the day J. F. Kennedy was shot, or the day M. L. King was assassinated, or the day R. F. Kennedy was assassinated, that evening is etched into my memory. I remember the girl's name, the place where we had dinner, the weather—everything that happened that evening. The sound I heard must have been a gunshot"

– David

[ilovedig]

Tony Bramwell died yesterday, and I learned more about him from this obit than I knew about him up to this point.

I am especially heartbroken to have confirmation that paul is smoking not just weed but also cigarettes again.

But this is a must read. I genuinely didn't know 95% of what is mentioned here.

[georgeharrisonsmiling]

What's your favorite Lennison moment/anecdote/whatever? :)

It's hard to choose because it keeps changing.

My favorite anecdote right now is one about their trip to Greece to buy an island.

 “It was a great trip. John and I were on acid all the time, sitting on the front of the ship playing ukuleles. Greece was on the left, a big island on the right. The sun was shining and we sang ‘Hare Krishna’ for hours and hours.” 

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

“One time, we were worried that Gerry and the Pacemakers were going to be “the ones” to do it. In fact, John and I bought a lot of Mersey Beats when there. Figured, well, we’re allowed to. Because we wanted badly to win that poll. We felt it was, like, that would make the difference, whichever group “made it.”” – Paul McCartney, fall 1980

from All You Need Is Love (2024) by Peter Brown and Steven Gaines

[ceofjohnlennon]

John Lennon always comforted people who were grieving because he knew the feeling so well:

"There was one thing about John Lennon. In his steel-trap mind, he never forget what was important to people. Fast forward to May 1975. I had become an anchorman in Philadelphia, and combined with a radio station, our TV station sponsored what was called the "Helping Hand Marathon", a weekend-long radio fund-raiser to benefit area charities, including the one most important to me, the battle against multiple sclerosis (n/t: Larry Kane's mom passed away in 1964 because of sclerosis). With the help of our sales manager, Gene Vassall, I was able to put together a real coup — John Lennon to cohost the marathon for the weekend. From the time I picked him up at the railroad station to his departure on Sunday night, John was sensitive, giving and tireless. On the phone days ahead of the event, he said "Larry, I know this is being done in memory of your mother. I will make this happen and it will be great, baby!".

ㅡ Larry Kane in the book "Memories of John Lennon" by Yoko Ono.

"I've always admired him, and was very proud of the friendship we had together, and the first time John really showed his love for me was after Stuart's death, when he helped me such an awful lot to try and understand my loss —and his as well — and we used to talk about Stuart, and he really got me together again. He wasn't like Paul or George, who felt really sorry for me, and said "Oh, everything will be fine". John just said — it to me one day when I was really, really down and didn’t know what to do — he said "Well, you have got to decide what you want: Do you want to live or do you want to die? Decide that, but be honest". And that helped me tremendously to go on. And then he said that there are so many things we haven't even discovered yet, and life has got to go on, and you can't sit down and cry all the time, you have got to get on, and if it's not for me, he said, it's for Stuart. And he said that in a very harsh voice, not like nice and sweet, but very directly, so that was the real John who was talking. And that made me really think twice about it. It helped me tremendously. That is what I'm still thankful for (...)"

ㅡ Astrid Kirchherr in the book "Memories of John Lennon" by Yoko Ono.

"While they were there, Lily's father, William White, succumbed to a heart attack at age sixty-seven. Over the past few years, Mal had shared with her how intimidating John could be, so Lil was surprised when the Beatle brought her a cup of tea, let down his guard, and showered her with consolation. Like Mal, Lily would always remember John's tender gesture. 'It's very hard at times like these to give verbal comfort to anybody,' Mal wrote, 'but John was fantastic, and I knew that he gave Lil a lot of comfort in her hour of need — something I have always blessed him for.'"

ㅡ Mal Evans in his diary, from the book "Living The Beatles Legend" by Kenneth Womack.

[allthedesiredusernamesaretaken]

... listen to music ...

📷 mine

[javelinbk]

MK: John Lennon there, wearing glasses which we'd never have seen that in public at the time PM: No, he was... up until the advent of Buddy Holly, he would never be seen out with glasses, but Buddy Holly - who was a big favourite of ours - wore glasses, so John felt a bit better about wearing the glasses then. But normally it was like, 'whoop, there's girls around'... glasses came off MK: Get them off PM: Yeah MK: And he looks, is he slightly nervous there? PM: I don't know, no it's just one of his habits, you know... MK: Chewing his fingers PM: He's doing it there too MK: Oh yes, chewing his knuckles PM: It was just one of his little things... and I was very pleased to see that, 'cause I'd forgotten that... it's not the kind of thing you remember about people, that he just got a little... MK: Their mannerisms PM: Mannerism, yeah. But that was... I don't think it was nervous, I think he's just... thinking. Yeah. And here he is again doing the same thing.