You either get tired of fighting for peace, or you die.
Has it really been 30 years? I remember the date well enough, but the three decades kind of caught me more than a little off guard.
Those of us old enough to remember how we were crushed by the shooting death of John Lennon outside of his Manhattan apartment on the evening of December 8, 1980, have likely been distracted on this somber anniversary by what might have been. At the time I thought, "Well, it took them 20 years but they finally killed them all."
Who were they exactly, government conspirators? Probably not, but certainly a fair share of bigots, crackpots, and assassins. But them, they were the heroes I grew to revere as I literally survived what I had thought, until more recently, were the most tumultuous decades ever thrust upon a generation - JFK, MLK, RFK, and finally John Lennon, and I was brash enough to claim them all. But especially John.
John Lennon was special. It took me a while to let him off the hook him for abdicating Beatledom for Yoko, but I came around. Ultimately, he never hesitated to stand and be counted when it came to the peace movement --" unless he and Yoko Ono were in the middle of a bed-in, when the prone position was more appropriate, holding press conferences in their honeymoon suite in 1969 to promote world peace.
The newspapers said
say what're you doing in bed
I said we're only trying to get us some peace.