Strawberry Fields
We began our actual exploration of the city on a rather somber note. As many of my friends are
aware, I am a huge admirer of John Lennon. In a pointless tragedy on December 8, 1980, the world lost not only an incredibly
talented musician, but also an extremely influential advocate for world peace.
On what would have been Lennon's forty-fifth birthday, October 9, 1985, then-mayor Ed Koch proclaimed that a portion of Central
Park would henceforth be called Strawberry Fields, commemorating the life and works of John Lennon.
As you enter Strawberry Fields, you can always hear people playing guitar and singing Beatles songs. It's
sad, yet somehow uplifting.
On the ground in the middle of Strawberry Fields is an enormous disc made up of small tiles. It contains a
single word, Imagine, the title of Lennon's most famous song. If you aren't familiar with the lyrics,
please click here and treat yourself to some of
the most poetic and insightful words ever written. (While you're at it,
click here and
take in the lyrics to
In My Life, another poignant Lennon song written back in his early Beatles years.)
Here's the official plaque, "endorsed by" all the listed countries, for whatever that's worth...
Now that we're all thoroughly depressed, we leave Strawberry Fields to go to the Dakota Apartments, John Lennon's
last residence. One of our protagonists (the cuter one) is being chastised here for standing too close to
the English phone booth. She barely managed to charm her way out of being arrested for criminal trespass.