I Met the Walrus_ How One Day With John Lennon Changed My Life Forever - Jerry Levitan [34]
The moment it was ready, Steve drove me to the Kodak lab to pick up the film. I bolted out of the car and into the service department, gave the lady behind the counter my two slips, and watched her go through the drawer. The first was the Super 8 reel. My brother opened it up, raised it to the window, and pulled the film in front of his eye. “There’s film here. I see John! I see Yoko!” he said. My God, I thought, I had proof, for the world and for me. Waiting for the photographs, I knew that if the envelope was thin, there was hardly anything there. “Here you go, that will be $15.95 please,” she said, handing me the envelope. It was not thin. I paid the money and we went into the car. I sat down, closed the door, and took a deep breath. The film that was in the camera was for slides, and there were many of them. I lifted them to the light and took off my glasses. One by one I saw pictures of John and Yoko. They were in focus. They were good. Mary Hopkin was there—a picure of her with Sam the Record Man, another with me. Even Engelbert in vibrant living color. “Let’s trade,” I said and gave Steve the slides. Acting like a projector, I viewed the small frames of the film. Sure enough, John and Yoko. I was there. I have proof. It really happened.
Mary Hopkin surrounded by admirers after her concert.
Mary Hopkin surrounded by admirers after her concert.
Mary Hopkin surrounded by admirers after her concert.
My father was so proud of me. He would introduce me to random people and say in his thick Yiddish accent, “He met the Beatle. My son is not a hippie, but he met the Beatle.”
I kept my word to John and played my tape to a school assembly. A few teachers and the vice principal listened to it first with me in the office to make sure it was appropriate. A woman teacher was flabbergasted and kept saying, “Amazing! Amazing!” The vice principal was circumspect and was not happy about the “piss for peace” or “you can go to school or not go to school…. as long as you do it for peace.” He cringed when I asked John if he said fuck on “Revolution 9.” “We will have to cut some of this out,” he said to the uproar of the teachers. “You can’t do that,” was the response. “It’s John Lennon.” He acquiesced.
The next morning, a large tape recorder was placed on the edge of the stage in the auditorium. Next to it was a turntable that I had set up. I sat there dangling my feet as kids entered. I was dressed all in white and wearing sandals. My round glasses were on. I was proud to wear them. And I could see clearly, the believers and the nonbelievers, let out from class to hear the world’s biggest star talk to me and to them. When everyone was seated, teachers closed the doors and stood against the wall. My English teacher took to the stage and walked over to the microphone stand behind me. “You all heard the news about Jerry meeting John Lennon. You’re all in for a treat, let’s hear it for Jerry!” The sustained applause and hooting delayed me from pressing the play button. I had done the impossible. I met the Walrus. John Lennon.
The kids laughed when John was funny. They were silent and listened to every word when he was talking about peace, about the Beatles, and about Yoko. Some shouted “All right!!” when he suggested they not go to school for peace. As soon as the interview was over, I took out Life With the Lions and gently placed the needle at the beginning of side one. “This is John and Yoko’s latest album. They gave it to me.” Teachers, administrators, and students alike were incredulous at what they heard. Yoko’s dramatic wailing and John’s experimental feedback pierced the assembly hall. I let it play for about five minutes or so. There were stunned and attentive looks and there was laughter. John and Yoko hit all the chords they wanted to. People reacted. “I’m sure you will want to talk to Jerry but let’s save that for lunch