In late February 1981 Mark and Carol Lapidos of Beatlefest held their first Beatles convention since the death of John Lennon. At that Beatlefest they gave out (for free) to everyone who attended Beatlefest 1981 in New Jersey a beautiful book called "A Loving Tribute to John Lennon." In this book John fans wrote poems, letters, drew pictures and wrote their memories of John. There are also some very rare photos of John from Bob Gruen that I have never seen anywhere else. I was lucky to get one of these books at a Beatles convention in the 1990's. I think it only cost me a dollar. Here are some of the stories from fans who had the wonderful opportunity to meet John. When you read this please keep in mind that when they wrote these words they were still mourning John's death.
From Helene Goldstein (1981)
Carry on, Carry on...
Maybe in writing this, I'll feel better knowing that people who can really understand what I feel will read it. As 1981 begins, for me, full of fear of what our new president has to offer, I am empty in an eerie way. John Lennon was a part of me. I was hooked when I first listened to "Imagine," which is still my favorite song. How wonder it was to hear someone with the same opinions on countries and religion! I was too young to know the Beatles first hand (I was just born in 1965) so now it was my turn to enjoy their music.
My interest built up fast and I attended Beatlefest '80. Seeing all of the films made my interest grow. I wanted to know more about this man. And so, my interest grew, and the rest is fan history.
In the past summer, I had traveled many times, with my friends, to the Dakota, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man I had grown to love. A few months before then, I had been roller skating with my friend Jodi, and we ended up skating in back of Yoko Ono, whom I had also grown to love, and followed her up the block to the Dakota. So one August day, my friend Roseann and I stood in front of the gargoyle-guarded Dakota. That same day, we had viewed two clips of the Beatles at the Museum of Broadcasting. WE stood there calm, until a car pulled up, and a very familiar man got out. This man had short hair, but John Lennon's face. But hadn't we seen a recent picture of John Lennon with long hair? He gave something to the doorman, smiled widely at us, and got back into the car. Than I noticed that Lennon profile. But being shocked, we convinced ourselves that it wasn't him. A few weeks later, I saw a newspaper picture of him with short hair. So it was he. I had really been only 15 feet away form John Lennon.
It is now almost two months and my mind still clouds with disbelief. The Friday after he died, I stood freezing with two friends in front of the building that now frightened me. I felt awkward. I know Yoko wanted us to leave, but I didn't know what to do. This was the only outlet to show my deep concern. I'm only 15, still a child, and some of that childhood has been taken from me. How fast I had to grow up when the realization of what the world was becoming, the cheapness of life, the utter senselessness of the society flourishing around me, which I had before ignored, and how easily a life could be taken, was suddenly slapped hard in my face. I suddenly woke up from my childish world of eternal utopias. John Lennon was a man, he was flesh and blood just like me. Stop dreamin' kid, he's no God. My world was ruptured by something I had not created, nor had any control over.
I read his last interviews and loved him more. Loved him more for what he said in those interviews. It's like a baby getting more interested in a toy that has always been there, then it drops to the floor and breaks. All that is left in me is a tear, and this; please don't' let him have died in vain. Now is the time, more than ever, to "Give Peace a Chance."
From Gary C. Rivers
John Lennon was a special friend. I met him in 1974 at his Lennon Music office. He had just released "Walls and Bridges" and I went to his office to try to get a poster, picture or anything I could. Instead, I found John smoking nervously and speaking on the telephone. As I entered and my mouth opened wider than it ever will again, he said, "I'll be off the line in a minute, sit here please..." pointing to a leather sofa. I sat down wondering what was next? The way my heart was beating I didn't thin I 'd survive what was coming. Why did he want me to sit down? Did I do something wrong? Did I upset him?
When he finally hung up the phone, I apologized frantically. With his irreverent humour, John accepted my apologies and cautioned me to "never let it happen again..." Then we both cracked up because we had created this little dramatic scene we were both getting into, and it didn't exist! When he finally explained why he asked me to wait, I felt more important than anyone on earth (except of course, John). He asked me what I thought of "Walls and Bridges" "It's important to me to know how I'm doing with the youthful second generation fans as it were, Beatle fans. What am I in comparison to let's say Elton John?" I told him that he means more to youth today than he did in 1964. "Is that why I had a number one album?" he asked. I replied, "Well, that and the fact that the last number one album was Cheech and Chong and you had no competition!" He looked at me fiercely and I felt I had just ended a beautiful afternoon. Then he cracked up laughing and said, "Who the hell do you think you are, John Lennon?"
The last time I saw John was in mid-November. He gave me a copy of "Double Fantasy" and told me I'd probably be one of the only ones in my generation that would understand it. AS I played the record, I knew John had finally found the same kind of personal fulfillment he had given you and me.
December 8 must stand as one of the most important days of my life. And just as important to you. It's the day when the most magical, wonderful and loving fantasy the world had ever known came to an end. John's "starting over" has become a too literal prophecy; we're the ones that have to start over now. WE were all awoken on December 8. Who would have thought that a story of the magnitude of the Beatles would have such an unfair, undeserved anticlimax. As John said "Where there's life, there's hope..."
The Greatest Day of my life
By Stacey Jenkins-McBride (Brooklyn, NY)
In February of 1980 I saw John Lennon on the streets of New York. I Was on my way to Penn Station to catch an Amtrak Metroliner headed for Springfield, Massachusetts. As I waited for the light to turn to green, I heard someone shout out, "Hey John, how are you?" Out of plain curiosity, I turned around to see what this guy named John looked like. I turned around, and the person who was standing about 6 inches from me was John Lennon.
My insides were becoming a little shaky and from pure excitement I knew my physical appearance was beaming. as I said hello to him, I tried to remain cool; I didn't want him to think I was some star crazed groupie. He said hello and smiled back and then we were our separate ways. I didn't want to stop and hassle him for autographs because if John felt free to walk the streets and do his shopping, he didn't need anyone hounding him. The smile and the acknowledgements were more than enough. It made the rest of my year truly beautiful. I will always remember this day as the happiest day of my entire life.
