Joshua Mack, a Park Slope resident, grew up in an apartment building across the street from the Dakota. One December night he heard the shots that killed John Lennon. Here is an excerpt from his essay, which was originally published on Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood. Mack is a digital executive, who works with media companies as a product creator, marketer, and strategist
Did you hear that?” My sister asked as she burst into my room after the five quick popping sounds had just drifted into my room. “Did you hear those gunshots?” I gave her a look. I told her they were firecrackers. It was late and she was bothering me. I was sixteen, a sophomore in High School and she was fourteen. Therefore she often bothered me.
A few minutes later a siren began to fill the air, quiet and then louder. Then it stopped somewhere on the street below my window. My sister wandered back into my room as more sirens swelled in the distance, got louder, stopped downstairs, beneath out window. We looked at each other and after putting on some warm clothing, met at the door to our terrace, binoculars in hand.
Outside it was a nice December night, crisp and windy. A police car had pulled up and more were on the way. I remember seeing Lennon’s body or at least people standing around in a tight circle. Then several more police cars pulled up. There was movement and one of the police cars drove away. Later news trucks pulled up, though many fewer and smaller than the ones that gather at events today. After awhile we left and when we turned on the television we learned who had been shot…
Read more at Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood.