It's still one of the worst moments of my life when my father told me
that John Lennon had been shot and murdered in New York City. I
found out shortly after 11:30 pm on the night of December 8,
1980. I was still miserable about losing my brother, Alfred, from
a car crash he was in back of June of that same year.
It felt like a nightmare for me that John Lennon, like Alfred, was dead
too. It was just before my 16th birthday. Thinking about
that night still upsets me even today.
I still miss you, John, as much as I miss Alfred.
Thursday, December 8, 2005
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