I do remember lying in bed with Shaved Fish, however.

John Lennon was the first ex fab whose solo work I explored after wearing out my mum’s Beatles LPs.
I was entranced by the scope of the tracks on Shaved Fish. I brought it from Focus Sounds in Waterlooville and it stayed on my Walkman for the best part of three months. I devoured every note and every silence.
The stark sing a long of ‘Give Peace A Chance’ through the skull shaking Wall Of Sound of ‘Instant Karma’ to the lush dream world of ‘Mind Games’ all formed an opinion in my mind of someone who was a true force of music.

Twenty years later and the rose tint has faded and I can listen to his music with objectivity and realise that much of his solo stuff is wishy washy, throwaway and bland.

I have also read many books on the man and he was deeply flawed. But maybe no more than you or me would have been in his position.

I still love the man. He has brought much joy to my life and continues to do so. He was controversial, aggressive, contrary and brash, but he was a master song writer, a loving father (eventually) and a passionate man and on balance that wins the day for me.

I was nine-years-old. Wasn't very important at the time.

I was more concerned about the appearance of Scrappy Doo in my favourite cartoon.

Eagerly anticipating my first birthday.

And in the process of manouvring myself so I'd come out feet first, necessitating a caesarean in a month and a half.

I had a job in a local newsagents marking up the papers and magazines before I went to school. I cycled in and arrived at 6.30am, and was met by my colleague Joan who broke the news as if she was informing me of the passing of a close friend or family member.

She told me that John Lennon had been shot. "Is he dead?", I said. "Yes", she said. I spent the rest of my shift assuming that she was mistaken, and that when I got home for breakfast before school I'd turn on DLT only to find out that he'd merely been injured.

She wasn't, of course, but I still couldn't believe that my favourite musician was dead. Thirty years later, I still feel an icy jolt when something unexpectedly reminds me that one of The Beatles was murdered.

I remember hearing John Peel talking about him on Radio 1 on the way into school and also hearing Working Class Hero for the first time (with the obligatory BBC beep!).

Later that day I had a mock O Level woodwork theory exam and all we could talk about as we queued up to enter the exam room was John Lennon.

About to go caving at Porth yr Ogof.

I can't remember hearing about Lennons death... odd.

It was my brother's 7th birthday. I remember my mum telling me John Lennon had been shot, but she had to tell me he was one of the Beatles. I liked the Beatles, and I thought it was very sad, but my brother's birthday was more important.

I was a week or so shy of my 9th birthday, and I don't remember much. I was probably at boarding school (see 'missing Live Aid, etc') but I remember my mum being very upset. I knew he was the guy who sang that song that was on the radio a lot, but she had to explain to me that he was also in The Beatles - a band that I didn't really get into for another couple of years. But to her, this was so much more. She was besotted with Lennon as a teenager; the height of this being in about 1964. She told me that, around this time, as well as wearing out her record of A Hard Day's Night on a little red portable record player on the clifftops of North Cornwall, her pride and joy was a picture of Lennon on the inside of her school desk. She was allowed to keep certain things, such as stationery and food items, in the desk. The most traumatic event of that year, as she explained it, was when her tin of Golden Syrup spilled inside the desk, rendering John Lennon fit for nothing but the bin.

She was at least as upset in December 1980.

to a news report, but I couldn't hear it from my room and didn't know what it was, so I had to go and find out.

Though I was not a fan or anything (I was 15), I do remember being quite shocked as he was shot, but to honest he wasn't really on my radar and meant little to me then. I was more interested in ska.

I was 23 at the time & remember it like it was yesterday. I was living in Sheffield & had a habit of turning on the radio before I got out of bed. I remember hearing the news, sitting bolt upright and crying. I had never cried at hearing any news before that.

Last year, I designed a poster for an exhibition. It was a typographic representation of musical recollections from my life to date. Anyway this is what I wrote for Lennon.

December 1980. I share a room with my brother Gerry and my sisters share the big room across the landing. It’s early on a Tuesday morning and we’re getting ready for school. Gay (my sister) runs out of her bedroom and goes downstairs shouting about something. It turned out somebody had been shot in New York. “Who?” I asked my brother?. “John Lennon” he replied. “Who’s that?” I asked again. “John Lennon – the singer. He’s dead. He was one of The Beatles” “Oh - the one who had the song in the hills? With the bagpipes?” “No – that’s Paul McCartney” “Oh – so who’s dead?” “The other one – John Lennon. He was shot.” “Never heard of him”.

It didn't take me long to catch on!

Incidentally, aren't all these memories from December 9th 1980 - not the 8th? Wasn't he killed the night of the 8th?

Had just got into The Beatles buying Abbey Road,I was numbed with shock, I remember going into school and people taking bets on the blackboard as to who had done it, bit sick really

I was at my first job post-University and sharing a house with a friend who'd been on the same course + our respective girlfriends. I was in the kitchen getting some breakfast and I heard it on Radio 4's "Today" programme. My mate must have had the radio on in his room because he came down (it was that stunning - he was a 'rarely up before noon' type): "Didy'a hear the news?"

I remember at the time thinking, "This'll be one of those JFK moments in years to come."

I managed to get up, have breakfast, drive to work, then spend an entire morning at the office, before I even heard about it. It was only at lunchtime when somebody said, 'Isn't it a shame about John Lennon?' that I discovered what had happened. I still haven't quite forgiven my colleagues for imposing quite such a comprehensive news blackout. The only way I or anybody else could have heard about it was to listen to the Today programme, but I never did that. If it had happened now we'd be getting live tweets from the operating theatre.

I was also nine, and remember it being the talk of school dinners. I didn't know he was one of the Beatles but I was quickly filled in on the significance of the event. I remember being affected enough by it to listen to - and tape the whole of - Andy Peebles's epic interview with him, conducted two days before he died.

I was 16 and working in the record department at Myer department store in Launceston, Tasmania, Australia. We had been selling loads of Barbra Streisand and Chipmunk Punk. Then suddenly swarms of people came down the stairs at around 4pm and started buying Double Fantasy. That's how I found out. Not great!

And yeah, I cried a bit. Cried a lot more watching the thing on ITV the other night. To think I'm the same age now as he was when he died fills me with weird dread.

And my digital alarm clock radio woke me up with the news.

My Mum bought me a cup of tea and asked whether I had heard what had happened. I said yes, "And the man who did it should be shot." This prompted a rather lengthy lecture on criminal justice not being about an eye for an eye.

...technically, all of us in the UK heard about it tomorrow of course..

Here's how his death was reported in Granadaland:

I was about 13 at the time and did a paper round that passed by my Gran's house and I used to call in for a cuppa. She told me the news, after which I finished the paper round, headed home and woke up my mum to tell her....

working at the most enjoyable job I've had - loading Christmas gifts into the back of Littlewoods' lorries at a distribution centre in Oldham in an old cotton mill. The upper floors contained all the goods on pallets that were conveyered down to the ground floor where we picked them up and chucked them in the back of the wagons. It was non stop, mindless work and the overtime was good with cash in hand at the end of the week. Used to start early, maybe 7:00 and remember hearing the news on the radio before setting off on the 4 mile walk to work. It was a bitterly cold morning and I recall thinking about John on the way there. At that age I had Beatles posters on my bedroom wall after having grown up listening to my mum and dad's collection of 45's. Also had a poster of lovely Linda Ronstadt as I was a great fan of her singing and possibly some other things about her.

and I noticed because Mum was upset listening to the radio.

Later that morning at Junior School assembly the new, young, very nice headmaster talked about him; I imagine he and his contemporaries were in real shock. Strangely enough, a year before the former, elderly, slightly scary headmaster had also given us a eulogy to the murdered Earl Mountbatten, who obviously meant a lot to him. With hindsight, I witnessed a generational shift In English culture 1979-1980.

I was 26, living in temporary accommodation with GLW and recent firstborn, having gone down the country to do a 12 months career-development placement that was clearly not working out for either me or my employer. I normally relish my work but was starting to get very unhappy with my lot. I was looking forward to a 2-week break at Christmas to try and take stock of my situation

I heard the item on the radio-alarm news. I nudged the slumbering Mrs Black and said "Did you hear that? John Lennon's been shot dead" She murmered sleepily "I bet it was that woman"

I wonder what she might have meant? I should point out that Mrs B has a very sweet nature. Just occasionally she takes against somebody

I got the heave-ho from work about 3 months later and high-tailed it back to the North East where luckily our house was still unoccupied. Looking back, it was the best thing that ever happened to me, career-wise

I aslo remember that a few days later we went roller skating at a rink that served as a shopping centre during the day. Just when we'd decided to call it a day the DJ played "Just like starting over" and we got back on the rink to whizz round for a few minutes in happy contemplation of John Lennon and his music. It would be hard to be my age and not feel very affected by it. We grew up with the Beatles

And sadly I can't really remember. It made almost no impression on me. I knew who The Beatles were and I knew that Lennon was my dad's favorite one. Sadly that is all.

in bed listening to the radio and then at college, Neil the hippy burst into my seminar, in tears. Apart from him, don't recall many fellow students really caring all that much, they were all into heavy metal.

Had just attended the NUS conference in a bitterly cold Margate and we were traveling slowly on an overnight bus back (pre M25) to Manchester when the news broke.

I didn't actually hear about it until later in the day when I finally got out of bed in my hall to ask my neighbour to stop playing bloody Imagine.

These days everyone would know immediately.

I should add that I don't remember it nearly so well as Sid Vicious's death (heard in news during Junior Choice, woke up punk brother), or Malcolm Owen of the Ruts (saw on News At Ten - what was I doing up so late, aged nine?).

!9 at Uni. Roll out of bed. Hear something about John Lennon on Radio 4. My girlfriend says: "oh it'll be more coverage of that Andy Peebles Radio 1 interview" (Remember that? Remember HIM!? It was a big deal at the time. Was it 2-3 day before?) A few seconds later we realized what had happened.

One of my friends in English said that his lecturer did a little hmily about what JL meant to him. Being a science student none of my fellow classmates even mentioned it - never mind the academics.

...arrived late to school (adverse weather conditions, delayed buses, y'know). Hadn't listened to the radio; dashed straight into an EngLit lesson. Everyone, including the teacher, was absolutely silent. I remember thinking being a few minutes late can't be that serious. I asked what was wrong; someone explained. Disbelieving, I gave a flippant reply, to their obvious chagrin. Then it kind of registered, and I was soon a party to the morose atmosphere.

Later on a guy trashed the sixth-form common room. I don't think it helped.

I also vividly remember buying the commemorative NME the following week. The writers' evident shock really brought home the tremendous sense of loss I wasn't yet able to articulate.

with my then girlfriend. It was her birthday. Sadly she died a few years ago so in a bizarre sort of way the anniversary of Lennon's murder brings back some very happy memories of her. I'm not sure if that's normal or not.

But remember hearing it on the radio and running to the next door neighbour to ask if he was alright. Only then did 'John Lennon' explain that it was a different 'John Lennon' and so began the introduction to The Beatles.....

..had just bought a new TV which had Ceefax.

We'd never seen Ceefax before so pressed the button on the remote control (not having to get up to change channel was a brand new experience as well)

The news headlines came up and his Dad suddenly went very quiet and then walked out of the room and up the stairs, which we thought was a bit odd, and he still hadn't come down when we were having our tea.

His mum explained that he was 'a bit sad' about the news.

Because I was seven, and I was really upset. I loved the Beatles. I was in my Nan's kitchen having breakfast and listening to Wogan on Radio 2 (although I can't recall it being Wogan, just a guess that it would have been. It could have been Ray Moore or someone else on Radio 2). My Grandad was tutting over his cornflakes (never fond of the Beatles. He was a Charlie Parker/Sarah Vaughan man).

Later on, we were icing fairy cakes and listening to excerpts of his interview with Andy Peebles. I remember it vividly, so I think I must have been quite an odd child.

listening to my parents copy of With the Beatles and looking at the face of the bloke on the sleeve and trying to put it all together with the news reports on TV. As was only a kid and only aware of teh Beatles as Moptops I thought he was still that young fella. Found it all very confusing if I'm honest

and living back at my parents for a short time, and they never had a TV or radio on in the morning. So I walked to the station and met an old schoolfriend's parents who said 'what a shame about John Lennon' which came as a shock as I had heard nothing. Spent the day at work in a daze really as this really was the end of a Beatles reunion possibility.
It seemed to come a really bad time (not that there is ever a good time) as he seemed to be happy in his life at last, and that showed in Double Fantasy which was considered bland in some quarters but tom me, showed just what a happy man he had become with his home life and life in general.

(I was 11) but my best friend came into school in a right old state. He was quite an accomplished guitarist even at that age and used to perform Beatles songs at school. He knew just about every tune in The Beatles Songbook. The strangest thing was that he had had a dream that something awful was going to happen to Lennon a couple of days before he was shot and had told me. Premonition? Coincidence? Either way it was very unsettling...

yes, a rookie cop in Glasgow, sitting having a cup of tea in the back of a newsagents around 8am. My parter said something about 'shame about John Lennon'. It was one of those moments when your perspective changes and everything looks like it is disappearing through a tunnel.

The Beatles were my first band. My folks bought the singles (until Strawberry Fields when they stopped) and I knew each 45 by the shape of the characters before I could read.

I actually enjoyed Starting Over (still do) and remember hearing it on Radio 1 and loving it before I knew who it was. But I can't remember if I got Double Fantasy before or after John's murder.

10 years ago I organised a night of Lennon/Beatles music with my band as house band. It was just after Kirsty MacColl was killed and I think the only outside song that night was Fairytale for Kirsty.

Doing nothing this year but having my own personal, older, memories of John.

Thirty years. How did that happen?

We had Radio 1 on that, as every, morning. My sister and I were getting ready for school. The DJ played "Imagine," "Starting Over" and "Woman" back-to-back. When "Woman" started, my sister said, "Bloody hell, they're pushing his records this morning. Has he died or summat?"

Thanks for the links to the Granada thing, JamesB. Sitting watching it now, I feel exactly the same irritation I felt then at Anthony Wilson on the news - he was seemingly incapable of looking straight at the camera, having to do that tilted head thing later adopted by Princess Diana.

The manager told me.

we sold a ton of Double Fantasy, Shaved Fish, Red and Blue that Christmas. But we made a solemn instore pledge not to play any Lennon or Beatles records, which I don't think was breached until Ferry's Jealous Guy came out.

I had some vague fantasy that Paul Weller would rise up and become the new John Lennon. As far as I know, he's yet to bake a loaf of bread.

This was very therapeutic

Apologies if it's already been posted elsewhere.

As previously mentioned, it was next morning for us UK folk. I was 20 at the time and had spent a significant amount of my life learning to play guitar using the Beatles Chord book for the most part.
I do remember feeling a great sense of loss at the time.

My appreciation of JL has fallen a little of late. There's been a fair bit of Lennon negativity around that seems to have tarnished his image.

I recently listend to a few hours of the rolling stone interview tapes (podcast) and I came away feeling a little cold.

The Lennon that I like to remember is the guy with the fantastic vocal on Twist and Shout rather than the laughable Plastic Ono version.

It was mid morning. I had the TV on but the sound turned down and I saw his photo on the screen and somehow I immediately knew something was wrong. I turned the stereo off, turned the TV sound up and then sat there glued to the TV for ages with tears streaming down my face. I was numb.

I was 10 years old - heard it on the 8am RTE radio news on a pitch-black morning in our kitchen in Dublin, while getting dressed for school. Didn’t affect me all that much as I was so young and hadn’t quite got into The Beatles yet.

At the time his comeback single Just Like Starting Over had been in the charts a few weeks beforehand and was on its way back down, so I do remember thinking at the time was how ironic it was that Lennon had only just resurfaced in the music world, then we lost him for good.

Unlike Elvis which I can remember vividly because my mum cried.

I do remember this though: I was 11, not long started in a new school that December and being unfortunate enough to share the same surname as the late Mr L, had for the next 5 years several nicknames and my own theme tunes. Nicknames were (the very funny - yeah right...) John, Dead Beatle, and Imagine. Oh and occasionally Yoko.

I also had to suffer that winter the sounds of Imagine and my own personal favourite Woman being sung to accompany my walks through those corridors.

It's no wonder that I've never quite taken The Beatles to heart like some people around these parts.

It is still sad though. I wonder how he would have gone through the last 3 decades and if he'd still be around?

Remember seeing the headline of the Evening News on the stand outside Hounslow West station. I vaguely knew he was in the Beatles - my Dad had the MFP "Rock and Roll" albums but didn't touch me at all. More concerned at when Madness were releasing another video that had flying saxophonists.

but I do recall an overwhelming feeling of despair at the thought of wall-to-wall 'Imagine' and 'Woman' over the airwaves.

....and had my own problems by that point. But in 1980/1981 I didn't know, and my parents couldn't care less. When I came to John and The Beatles at age thirteen, I realized the magnitude of the loss. In a way, not having the shock of being aware when it happened, I've gone through a lingering grieving process over John that extends from 1987 til the day I die.

I remember exactly where I was - in bed in room H5 of the hall of residence at poly with a bad cold. A female friend of mine came in and told me and started crying. I wasn't a big fan - even then I was sick of "Imagine", but I was profoundly depressed for the next few days at the sheer pointlessness of it. What a fucking waste.

Spent the day in the union office at college smoking and being very arty, earnest and cerebral, ejecting anything anyone put on the jukebox that I thought "disrespectful" (ah, the power of the button!).

It was the talk of the classroom and I still remember the shock. Recall the BBC showing 'Help!' as a tribute, and if I wasn't a huge fan before (I was, it's normal for kids to 'find' the Fabs :-)), that did it. Taped the songs off the telly... For me, Abba's 'Super Trouper' instantly evokes that time.

We'd been to see Queen at Wembley Arena, missed the last train to the coast, slept on the platform at Victoria, got the milk train and hit the sack at 6.30am or so. Nowadays it would be almost impossible for us to do all that without hearing the news.

I remember being woken a couple of hours later by my mum opening the curtains and saying "One of your lot's been shot." The first and only time I've been in the same 'lot' as John Lennon.

But do recall some mumbling things in the playground (I was 10).
That evening was the School Christmas Play thing - do remeber sitting in a classroom waiting to go and mumble on stage watching something about Mr Lennon on the BBC (I think?).
Didn't really hit home until about a year later with the discovery of the Beatles Red & Blue albums - "Oh, that's John Lennon!"

In a bedsit in Southampton where I'd recently moved.

I was stunned and very upset. It's odd to think that now because as Martin Simmonds says above, Lennon's halo has slipped a bit since. But I think I was upset because he seemed to be just getting his act back together musically and seemed to have made it up with Paul. The only other rock star death I've felt remotely as sad about was Keith Moon because he too seemed to be conquering his demons.

Sad that the Beatles wouldn't make any more records (didn't really understand that they had broken up, or indeed what a "group" actually did)

Happy that they showed "Help" that night.

back then,in a small Scottish village, was a well known local worthy - Rotarian, Church elder, paragon of the community in every way - called John Lennon. He does (did)however have an unfortunate habit of loudly whistling at all times,especially under the bedroom window of GG's parent's window in the early morn whilst attending to his varied vegetation.

When the news came through he'd been shot absolutely everyone was in a state of deep shock. I will always remember the day for this exchange:

Me: Did you hear that John Lennon's dead?
Father of Goatgirl: Thank Christ for that, the whistling cunt.

It took me years to get into the Beatles.

I remember stuff (official classwork stuff) being posted up about it at school. I then realised it was A Very Big Deal.

Started me on my Beatles journey. Roughly as follows:

- Rock'n'Roll Music

- The Beatles Ballads

- Stars on 45

- Beatles Movie Medley

- Shout!

- The Man Who Gave The Beatles Away

etc

etc

Sorry. Hat, coat etc.

I was a lonely eight year old Australian suffering a bleak winter in a London apartment. I had no previous interest in music, had no idea who the Beatles or Lennon were, but can clearly remember a sombre newsreader announcing his death. Over the next week or so the Beatles were everywhere and I was hooked. I listened to naught but the Beatles for about five years and began an obsession with the guitar that still strangles me to this day (and yes, I own a Rickenbacker 12 string). The joy of exploring that catalogue of music, buying each single and album in chronological order as I could afford them over the next couple of years, is something that I will never experience again.

I guess I must have either heard it on the radio or read about it in the morning paper, but I only remember what happened when I got to school that day.
Though I had more or less kicked my deep Beatles addiction by then, everybody at school instantly thought of me at every mention of anything Beatle. So walking through the corridors that day kids I barely knew that normally wouldn't have spoken to me came up to me asking "Did you hear about John Lennon ?"
And, because they obviously asked in hope of seeing grief, I shrugged my shoulders and acted indifferent.
Not that I went home and cried later, it just felt weird. Like trying to sit down and the chair isn't there anymore. It sat in the same corner for years, and now someone moved it to the shed.

Power to the People indeed. Lovely convergence between Wikileaks and Lennon's 70th.

... and had been a Beatles obsessive since the age of about 7 or 8, after seeing the movies on TV.

My experience almost exactly mirrors Locust's above... weird!

'm not sure how many of you have ever seen the footage, but if you get the chance, have a look at the BBC's Omnibus documentary from 1981, "Inner Visions".

It's a fly-on-the-wall doc around Stevie's 1980 live shows, but there's a very poignant moment at the end of the programme. It shows Stevie returning to the stage to perform the encore at the end of his show on the night of Dec 8th, telling the audience (who being at the gig hadn't yet heard the news) that something terrible and shocking had happened that night. Clearly trying not to break down, he and his assistants ask the crowd for silence.Without revealing the name, Stevie says that a 'someone they all knew' had been shot that night and that had been killed. After what seems like an eternity he says to the audience "...and I'm talking about Mr John Lennon".

The gasp from the audience is clearly audible.

I was 8 and in our kitchen. My mum said that he had died, and "that means the Beakers will never get back together". When she said Beakers for some reason I was picturing the plastic beakers we had for our school lunches, which used to be stacked together. It puzzled me.

30 years on the thing that puzzles me is that my mum geninuely thought the Beakers might have a chance of getting back together.

Where I was working as tea-boy and general dogsbody. I think we had Teardrop Explodes in at the time, doing When I Dream, or maybe it was Treason - can't remember.

Wide-eyed shock and sadness among the hardened studio types.

I was 23 and living in a flatshare in London - one of my flatmates came bursting into my room to tell me - neither of us could believe it. I had taken the day off to go Christmas shopping in London, and spent the day wandering around in a daze (as I normally do when Christmas shopping, but this was different). Definitely my generation's Kennedy moment

with my wife and in-laws (who live there), at a little resort outside East London. (Yes, I know. But it really is a town on the eastern Cape coast.)

My young brother-in-law came in and told us what he'd just heard on the radio. He looked serious enough for me to believe him, and I went cold.
It was a couple of decades before I visited New York and could actually see the Chelsea Hotel (and visit Strawberry Fields in Central Park) for the first time.
All very vivid memories.

I remember it distinctly, not because I was a fan but because I was 18 and in a dormitory at Dishforth Police training centre - I was actually training to be a Police officer not for any other reason.
I can't recall there being much talk of it at the time, probably too busy get ready for parade, bulling boots and all that.
What does stick in my mind whenever I think of Lennon's death is it takes me straight back to that dormitory and all the other people in the class that day, I've now retired after thirty years as a Police officer and I wonder what happened to them all, I can't even remember their names now...

Although I do recall one of the trainees who was older than the rest of us and his claim to fame was he was in the front row at the Albert Hall when Cream played there and was clearly visible in the film of the concert.

to my knowledge, rarely talks about those few days back in 1980. Tony Livesey had him on last Weds evening... worth hearing (2:06 in).

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00wcsj8/Tony_Livesey_08_12_2010/

I was in the middle of rehearsals for a production of "You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown" at a Fringe theatre down in Kingston (The Kingston Overground, long since disappeared). It had been a difficult rehearsal; I wasn't getting along with the young actor playing Snoopy (I was Charlie Brown). Young? Yeah, he was 22 and I was 28. Anyway, he spent a lot of time trying to upstage me and was generally getting on my wick but I had resolved that day to try to be more open and understanding with him. I walked into the rehearsal room. He knew I was an old hippie and a massive Beatles fan. He was more into Punk. Snoopy walked up to me and told me - boom - just like that: "John Lennon's dead". It had the desired effect. I almost fainted. I locked myself in the toilet and told myself to get it together. But I was wracked with guilt. I had grown tired of John's political stuff and hadn't bought Double Fantasy. That night on the way home I queued at Our Price to buy the vinyl LP. When I got back to my bed-sit I put it on and finally had a good weep.