Music vet and New Times scribe Lee Zimmerman shares stories of memorable rock 'n' roll encounters that took place in our local environs. This week, The day(s) the music died...
I remember hearing the news about Lennon on the way home from a Police concert in Sunrise. It was nearly 11 p.m. and I was still basking in the afterglow of the amazing show I had just witnessed when the news came over the radio that John had been shot. At first, his condition was unknown, but it seemed only moments later that the deejay confirmed the fact that he had died. It was a numbing feeling, one that I couldn't comprehend. Why would anyone shoot a Beatle? But then again, how could anyone have murdered a president or a leader like Martin Luther King?
The personalities of those particular individuals had been widely trumpeted in the music press at the time, so it was almost expected that they would likely not live to see their senior years. So I can't say I was especially shocked when the news arrived over the airwaves.