Lennon Never Left New York

David Peel — Street Corner Rant

People ask me about John all the time. What was he like? I'll tell you what he was like. He was a guy who walked to the deli on his own two feet. No bodyguard. No entourage. Just John, going to get the paper or a coffee or whatever the hell he wanted, because he lived here. In the city. On the street. Like a New Yorker.

He could've lived anywhere. He was the most famous person on the planet and he chose a walk-up on the Upper West Side. You know why? Because New York doesn't care who you are. That's the deal. You can be a Beatle or a bum and the hot dog guy charges you the same two bucks.

I played with him in the park. Washington Square. He sat in with me, not the other way around. The King of Street Rock and the King of Rock and Roll, on a bench, with acoustic guitars, and nobody asked for a permit.

December 8th, 1980. I was ten blocks away when it happened. The city went quiet that night. You ever heard New York go quiet? It's the loudest silence you'll ever hear.

They put a memorial in the park. Strawberry Fields. People leave flowers. They play his songs. Tourists take pictures. But John didn't need a memorial. He needed a walk to the deli. He needed the city that let him be a person. He never left New York. And New York never let him go.

See also: The Apple — the day Lennon walked into the park. December 8th — the last letter. Yoko Was Right — Peel on what Yoko knew before everyone else. Washington Square — the park where they met.

David Peel

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