Twenty-five years ago today, the world lost John Lennon. My husband wrote a wonderful blog over at Left of Centrist to remember John and the effect he had on him. Included is the following:
"Shoot me, shoot me," whispered John as the first words on the last Beatles' album. Perhaps the sick animal who took Lennon's life mistook the lyrics as a literal request but the refrain of that song took on an almost mythical precognition. In the days that followed the diabolical actions of 'he who shall not be named', many of us around the world came together over John. We stumbled around in shock listening to the music that had changed the world. We couldn't let go of the dream. Until that fateful day we held out a faint hope that our favorite band would reunite and regale us with more of the magic we had come to love. In one tragic moment, that dream was lost forever.
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