25 years ago today, John Lennon was murdered by an insane fan, supposedly enraged by his perception that the former Beattle had "sold out." I was attending the University of Nevada Reno, working in Lincoln Hall as a Resident Assistant, when the announcement came over the radio in my room, "John Lennon has been shot, he was pronounced dead on arrival." I remember going outside and finding people gathering together, crying, holding each other. I felt as if a piece of me had been stolen, that's how strongly I identified with John Lennon. I called the only person I could think of who loved Lennon more than I did, my brother John. He answered the phone "John is dead." We consoled each other, although neither one of us could find even a semblance of a silver lining. To this day I can't. I do know this, John Lennon was one of the most amazing song writers in history, and he will always be dear to me.
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