AUTHOR'S COMMENTS

On December 8, 1980, one hundred million or more people were fed the news of John Lennon’s murder, on television. It relieved them of whatever sensitivity they may have guarded, about the spirit and soul of a “more popular than Jesus” figure, that was John Lennon.

In that moment, as America and the world experienced the news, television was the great galvanizer, tranquilizer, hypnotizer, pacifier, stupefier, paralyzer, agitator, commentator, activator, adjudicator, and erupter. It provided a panorama of American social and political epiphanies.

The murder of John Lennon was thus reduced to coverage, and its objectivity transformed into an evangelical about a crazed lone killer Mark David Chapman – the official story. The only thing that TV brings to us with immediacy, is its own questionable code of ethics.

I was hooked on the tragic idea that this musician, a “Peace-nik,” was gunned down in such an unthinkable manner and we still really knew nothing about the details of the case. I pledged that I would make an effort to find out why and began to reverse engineer the TV experience of Lennon’s fatality.

 What perplexed me most was my own lack of understanding of events, so one-sided. Lennon’s killer had never gone to trial. Therefore, the only impression I had was from main-stream media. It was very limited. I set out to create a “mind map” of events that stepped back from the scene to obtain a higher level view. To begin with, searching on the Internet, I was staying up later and later, until soon I would be up all night.


After a month of almost no sleep, I learned that Sean Lennon was in town for a show at Lee’s Palace, a cozy downtown venue that had access to the stage from a raised mezzanine bar area. In a moment, I was in my car driving wildly to meet Sean. The entire time Sean was on stage, I screamed across the two or three feet that separated us, trying to get his attention. Sean’s music was cutting, upbeat, and loud, and he moved decisively away from me towards centre stage every time I started to put a sentence together, usually starting with “Hey Sean, it’s about your dad!” Not an effective way to make a good first impression. With all my well intentioned enthusiasm, I was stalking, quite impolitely accosting, the very talented and utterly disinterested son of my iconic hero. My apologies to you Sean.


For the next ten years, I delved into the time surrounding the life and death of John Lennon with a passion, unlike anything I had ever done before. I don’t entirely understand why, some enormous curiosity as a fan, some psychic disposition, perhaps a sense of injustice, trying to catch the essential wave of Lennon’s spirit. Inspired by Oscar Handlin’s book “Truth in History”, I read exhaustively music and film biographies, magazine articles, Internet sites, and record album notes. I also conducted interviews with pop stars and rock journalists, like Ronnie Hawkins, Bob Gruen, and Ritchie Yorke, people who knew John Lennon, and lived with him.


In following Handlin, Professor Emeritus from Harvard University and one of America’s most respected historians and educators, I used more than traditional tools. I must surely have been guided by the spiritual presence of John Lennon and often, would hear his uniquely forceful voice, Liverpudlian accent and all, engaging me onwards. Sometimes, I would just feel his pain.