Saturday, July 16, 2011 at 6:41pm
Some of you might know the story of the white feather. John Lennon told his son (You can watch the videos on you tube.) that if there was an afterlife, he would signal by sending a white feather. Well, if you know how much I love Lennon, you know I will be hanging around chicken coops just to hear the Liverpoolian speak!
Yesterday was Julia (John’s mum) Lennon’s birthday. Or so I thought. I put her pic up as my profile pic, one with John in it as a boy. I also put a couple versions of his song to his mum by that same name. One of my friends on Facebook, Frank, who lives in Guatemala, asked if that was me in the pic with the boy. He thought she was pretty. Julia. I told him who it was. Then, I told him John had married a Powell girl long ago, and I wished he had married the right Powell girl, meaning myself, of course. Just having fun and being silly, you know. But it was a bit haunting that he thought that was me…and that it was John’s mum on what I thought was her birthday. I am not sure if you know what all I believe, but it is complex…yet so simple. I believe we are all one, like Eckharte Tolle teaches. I believe many things that seem conflicting, but to me, they are in perfect harmony. I cannot explain it. And it needs no explanation, because it is a thing of the heart, the spirit.
Today, on my way home from breakfast with Annette, I could feel the presence of Cher at my house. I felt she was calling me…for sure. My cell phone was not ringing. I just saw on the computer where Zoe had called at that time, to tell me they were on their way over. Happens a lot with us. Not so strange. Cher and the grands have been down in New Orleans for a week. And so, when I drove up to the house, I was delighted to see Cher’s car in the driveway, then to see Zoe near it…and Cher around back. I opened the car door, and John Lennon was looking right at me. Zoe had gotten a shirt that said GIVE PEACE A CHANCE with a large artsy design of his face on the front. I could not get out of the car. I just sat there and demanded the shirt. We laughed. I said I could wear it as a ski mask perhaps. Anyway, I told them I had a T shirt of John that they could share. I had ordered it back in October, a lovely, very expensive and light shirt, green, with his face and name. (One of my classmates had sent me extra money and told me to go buy something to wear to the reunion with it!) It was too small for my deebees and made John look quite bug-eyed. So, I got it out and gave it to the girls…telling Cher and Zoe to share it. Still this is not so strange. I love giving them things.
We were cleaning up after a tenant had moved out…and suddenly a small white feather floated down from the sky right in front of my face. Zoe was with me and remained calm as I shouted…”Look! Look! It’s a white feather! Oh Lordy! Oh Goodness! I have been waiting!” I got it to show them and make sure they saw. I reminded them of the white feather promise. (I recalled once when Julian was a guest on a TV program, one floated by them. Also, George Harrison told of how after John had died, they all went for a photography session, and a white peacock appeared out of nowhere to join them. Many more stories…but back to this one.)
Eventually, I waved goodbye and the girls left. On my way inside, I stopped by the mailbox and pulled out a large, square card from Mimi. She had sent it from…guess where…LIVERPOOL. She and Duncan sent this lovely card and each wrote a precious and sweet message to me. I began to cry when I saw that it contained their train tickets, from earlier this month, when they rode from Liverpool to Woking, where Duncan lives in the UK. Also, they had taken pics for me. I was so overwhelmed with it all. A yellow submarine, a picture of the street sign, and the Liverpool John Lennon Airport. I was so grateful and thrilled with the timing of all this. Suddenly, I recalled posting the pic of John and his mum, thinking it was her birthday, and how out of the blue last week, The Liverpool John Lennon Airport started following me on Twitter! Mimi had told me on Facebook that a sign at the airport quotes John’s famous line from Imagine…”Above us only sky…” When I told Mimi that the airport was following me, she told me that Yoko Ono followed her…and that made it even more amazing!
I did some research and found out that yesterday was the day John Lennon’s mother died. This is from The Beatles’ Bible: (I won’t point out all the coincidences, but you will know them when you see them!)
From 1946 John Lennon lived with his Aunt Mimi (Mary Smith) and Uncle George in their house, ‘Mendips’, at 251 Menlove Avenue, Liverpool, after his mother Julia had handed over care of her son to them.
Despite the living arrangements, Julia came to see John almost every day. In 1957 she bought him his first guitar, a cheap Gallotone Champion acoustic “guaranteed not to split”. Julia shared John’s love of rock and roll music, despite Mimi’s disapproval, and saw her son playing in the Quarrymen.
On 15 July 1958, when John was 17, Julia died on Menlove Avenue shortly after leaving Mimi’s house, while crossing the road to get to a bus stop. She was struck by a car driven by a drunk off-duty policeman, PC Eric Clague, who was a learner driver. He was acquitted of all charges and later left the police force to become a postman.
Mrs Lennon just ran straight out in front of me. I just couldn’t avoid her. I was not speeding, I swear it. It was just one of those terrible things that happen.
Eric Clague
John’s childhood friend Nigel Whalley later recounted what happened:
I went to call for John that evening but his Aunt Mimi told me he was out. Mimi was at the gate with John’s mum, who was about to leave. We stood chatting and John’s mum said ‘Well, you have the privilege of escorting me to the bus stop!’ I said ‘That will do me fine. I’ll be happy to do that.’
We walked down Menlove Avenue and I turned off to go up Vale Road, where I lived. I must have been about 15 yards up the road when I heard a car skidding. I turned round to see John’s mum going through the air. I rushed over but she had been killed instantly.
Whalley ran back to Mendips to get Mimi, who cried hysterically as they waited for an ambulance. Julia died at the scene.
I didn’t see John much after that because he became a bit of a recluse. It worried me because, deep down, I wondered whether he blamed me for the accident and was thinking ‘If only Nigel Whalley had stayed a minute longer talking to my mum’. But hindsight is a wonderful thing.
Nigel Whalley
Julia’s death traumatised John, who would later refer to her in the songs Julia, Mother and My Mummy’s Dead. His first son, Julian, was named for her.
Now…what a time it has been! So many connections, it is just as Diane Whaley (who lived a long time in England) says…mindboggling! I am not shocked that Paul McCartney is playing Yankee Stadium this weekend…and I would not be surprised if Ringo himself knocked on the door tonight.
Thanks, John! And Eckhart, who needs form?
