Cnn John Lennon Hes at It Again
I was working late that cold Dec nighttime on a report to be circulate the following morn. As news managing director of a popular Long Isle radio station, WLIR, I did a daily feature on whatever subjects might exist of interest to our young, rock music-oriented audition. The topic that night was gun control, and I was editing the words of CNN commentator Dr. Michael Halberstam, who had spoken out forcefully the previous week in favor of stricter laws governing firearms. In an incident equally ironic as it was tragic, Halberstam was fatally shot in his home past an intruder days after his commentary aired, and I was using the unfortunate coincidence to point out just how eerily prophetic the physician's dire warnings were.
As I was completing the study, one of the station'due south student interns burst into the studio, red-faced and breathless. "They just said on Television receiver someone was shot outside the Dakota building, and that information technology might exist John Lennon," he yelled. I raced to the newsroom, grabbed an AP wire with the aforementioned sketchy information, told the disc jockey to plow on the microphone in my news booth, and broadcast the message.
Now on auto-pilot, I returned to the newsroom, badly dialed the Dakota's constabulary precinct, and managed to go through to a sergeant who provided more details on the shooting, but could not confirm the fate or identity of the victim. He told me it would be OK to call up again presently.
Fans mark the ceremony of musician John Lennon'southward death with a makeshift memorial at Strawberry Fields in Central Park December eight, 2003, in New York City.
Matthew Peyton/Getty
I went on the air, telling our listeners what I knew. As the local, then national airwaves exploded with speculation, I over again reached the same helpful sergeant, who said, on record, that the victim was tentatively identified as Lennon, he was in serious condition, and the gunman had been apprehended. Off-air, still, he confirmed to me that it was the former Beatle.
At eleven:32 p.m., near forty minutes later on the shooting, I broadcast the update. Xv minutes later, I called the sergeant back. This time he said, calmly but with some hesitation, "Well, they're about to make the proclamation, so I guess information technology'due south OK to tell you lot now that it was Lennon, and that he'south dead."
I gasped, slammed the news booth door shut and gestured for the DJ, Bob Waugh, to terminate the music and open my mic. I repeated what the cop had only told me, thereby becoming the first—according to many who were monitoring various radio and TV stations that night—to ostend the death of John Lennon.
"I repeated what the cop had but told me, thereby becoming the first—according to many who were monitoring various radio and TV stations that night—to confirm the death of John Lennon."
In the chaos of the moment, I had not thought to record myself making the announcement. The following day, notwithstanding, a listener called, said he'd recorded it off the air, and would send me a cassette. That never happened, and despite my best efforts, I never found a recording of it—until this year.
A decade ago, another WLIR colleague, Ben Manilla, had been given a CD containing some of his reports from 1980. Ben did not listen to the entire CD until several months ago—at which point he heard, at the very end, my report with an update on Lennon's condition, followed past my announcement of his death. Ben immediately shared it with me, and hearing information technology nigh 40 years afterward literally sent a chill downwards my spine.
After the words left my mouth, I looked at the stunned face of my colleague, then realized that I literally could not speak. I think in that choking, adrenaline-filled moment, the enormity of what had just happened not but to Lennon, just to every fellow member of my generation, suddenly dawned on me. My mind was jolted dorsum to the morning in January 1964, when my radio clicked on and I heard the sweet sounds of "I Desire to Agree Your Hand" for the first time. I was well-nigh eleven years quondam, and I clearly call up my instantaneous reaction: "I Dearest this, and my parents are gonna HATE it!" I recalled the raucous Ed Sullivan shows, my sister'due south treasured Beatles trading-carte du jour collection, and the twenty-four hour period I was crossing Broadway and bumped into a white stretch limo stuck in traffic, conveying John and Yoko. My friends and I waved excitedly to them, and they smiled and waved dorsum.
But here I was at present in a news booth, speechless afterward having just announced the death of an icon. Bob, in shock, mumbled a few words, so played whatever record was cued up on his turntable. Most 10 minutes later on, presently after midnight, the announcement was made at Roosevelt Hospital, the official discussion crossed the AP, UPI and Reuters wires, and the world heard the astonishing news.
The rest of that long night is a blur. Nosotros aired Beatles and Lennon music nonstop, and hundreds of listeners called or came to the station to limited and share their profound shock and grief. I conducted phone interviews with anyone I could notice who knew the homo: musicians such as Billy Joel; pop culture historians; the manager of the Sullivan programs; movie critic Male monarch Reed, who lived in the Dakota and described the Lennons as unfailingly "kind, thoughtful, and polite" neighbors; and Geraldo Rivera, whose friendship with the controversial couple led to their final live concert: a benefit for the developmentally disabled.
Around daybreak, I broadcast my unexpectedly timely written report on gun command, and told the audience that what had occurred on West 72nd Street should be unacceptable in a civilized society. I noted that Lennon had spent the latter role of his life pointing out what was wrong with the earth; the circumstances of his death sadly reinforced his bulletin.
With all the accumulated wisdom of my 27 years, I also solemnly informed my listeners that no one would e'er once more be able to listen to Beatles music in the same way, with the same joy. The killer had stolen that from the states, as he had robbed Lennon's life from him. For a new generation of music lovers, and probably for most of my peers likewise, my prediction has not held. But for me, information technology's been true. In the 40 years since his murder, I have never once heard John Lennon's phonation without thinking of that awful night, and how a superbly talented human of peace was taken from us by a cruel and yet incomprehensible act of violence.
Source: https://www.thedailybeast.com/the-first-person-to-report-the-death-of-john-lennon
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