I have a very vivid memory from thirty years ago tonight.
I spent the evening visiting new friends who lived in the park block of West 71st Street, and left their apartment late that evening. As I rounded the corner onto Central Park West, a wild-eyed woman -- a total stranger -- passed me on the sidewalk crying, "They shot John Lennon." Somehow, my New Yorker brain incorrectly first processed this as John Lindsey, and then quickly corrected itself when I reached the corner of 72nd and Central Park.
Waiting for the M-10 bus, which (as usual, at least back then) took forever to get there. I spent the next 20 minutes watching grief-stricken people show up at the Dakota. My most lasting memory is of a limousine that slid out of Central Park, drove slowly past the building, did a U-turn on 72nd Street, and slipped silently back into the Park. Clearly a night I will never forget.
What are your memories of John Lennon's death?