I know, I know, that song is about Buddy Holly, one of the all-time creative energies in early rock music. And I’ve always loved him, but another death struck me more personally. What about you?

I remember driving home across Spanish Oak Road, a high two-lane road that offers a commanding view of Roan Mountain to the west and Grandfather Mountain to the east. I was, as always, listening to the radio when a voice broke in. “It has just been reported that John Lennon has been shot in New York City.” Only minutes later, he was reported dead. I was still driving, stunned and with tears blurring my vision. I felt bad for John and for Yoko and for Sean, Julian, and Cynthia. But my grief was chiefly for myself. A part of me was suddenly missing and would never be replaced. Surely the report must be in error.

Some time later I was working in a pasture close to my house. Again, I had the radio in the car blaring in the distance so I could hear it while I worked. My attention was captured by a clear bell and an opening chord. I was instantly mesmerized as these words followed:

Our life together is so precious together
We have grown, we have grown
Although our love is still special
Let’s take a chance and fly away somewhere alone

It’s been too long since we took the time
No-one’s to blame, I know time flies so quickly
But when I see you darling
It’s like we both are falling in love again
It’ll be just like starting over, starting over (John Lennon from “Double Fantasy”)

Tears again filled my eyes. I heard John Lennon’s voice — clear, hopeful, and tender — singing one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard. This time, though, grief didn’t overwhelm me; this time, gratitude. As soon as I could, I got a copy of “Double Fantasy” and I listened until I could breathe the lyrics to every song on the album. I listened until I could fall asleep dreaming dreams of beauty and acceptance rather than those of grief and loss.

People who really know me, know that for me, John Lennon didn’t die on that December night, neither did his music. I still listen to his songs, sing his songs, and incorporate some of his unique perspectives and inflections into my own music. John Chapman may have quenched his fire, but John Lennon’s light still lives. — Bob Tatum

What are your memories — of John, or of other influential artists who left the stage early? Share if you will.

Sound Traveler will be playing at a Praise and Worship Writer’s Night at Riverside Presbyterian Church in Cocoa Beach tomorrow night. We will also be at the Original Portabella’s Italian Restaurant in Rockledge on Saturday and at Faith Lutheran on Merritt Island on Sunday.

To respond to this web log, please click on the title, scroll down, and scatter your pearls of wisdom and insight.

5 Comments to “SongTravelin’: 12.08.10 — The Day the Music Died”

• December 8, 2010 at 9:29 am
  cyberbeat says:

  John was the best of the Beatles. He’s the only one that sang about things that mattered. Yoko was weird but thats another thing.
• December 8, 2010 at 10:00 am
  Ellie Hjemmet says:

  Thanks so much, Bob. How I appreciate this beautiful remembrance.

  I cried too… so many of us did. I think I was still going to art school in Miami when I heard the news on the radio. I had still such vivid memories of my years in NYC and walking by the Dakota. The world seemed so terrible then, such an inexplicable loss. Yet he left us so much beauty. After the pain subsided we can remember that.
• December 8, 2010 at 3:03 pm
  Patty says:

  There have been too many, and of course John’s was one of the saddest. Even though I wasn’t alive when Buddy Holly died, it still bothers me to think, as my dad has often mentioned, of all of the unwritten songs that died along with Buddy in that plane crash.

  And there was John Belushi…what a sad waste of talent for a totally different reason, but still a tragedy. My parents knew how upset I would be when I found out that he was gone, so they hid the newspaper from me as they left the house early in the morning while I was still sleeping. They didn’t want me to be alone when I learned the terrible news. When I remember this story, I also remember their kindness.

  Of course, who could forget Harry Chapin…I was holding a ticket to see him in concert for the second time when we heard. This time it was a car accident who took someone dear from us, much too early.

  But fortunately they still live on, because of the incredible art they left with us. For this, we must be truly grateful. Those of us who are blessed enough to make music honor those who have gone on to music heaven whenever we play one of their songs.
• December 8, 2010 at 4:04 pm
  Bob says:

  Well said, and thanks for reminding me of those others — an array of extremely gifted individuals.
• January 10, 2012 at 6:10 pm
  Andrew A. Thompson says:

  *The next time I read a blog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as much as this one. I mean, I know it was my choice to read, but I actually thought youd have something interesting to say. All I hear is a bunch of whining about something that you could fix if you werent too busy looking for attention.