Original subtitles

Good evening. If you've been anywhere near

a television set or a radio these past few hours,

you already know that John Lennon of the Beatles is dead.

He was shot late this evening in front of his apartment building in New York City.

Apparently he was killed almost immediately.

The man who shot John Lennon walked up to the musician

as he was leaving his limousine.

According to eyewitnesses he said "Mr Lennon" and then fired at him

point blank at least five times.

MAN: I just remember feeling at the very lowest I had ever felt.

Feeling like I was nothing, like I was nobody.

Just totally useless.

Self-esteem smashed under a giant concrete pillar.

This was like, "Hey, I'm going to be a big king here.

I'm really going to be somebody."

But it's much more than attention, it's like...

..like being a king.

Give me the opportunity to kill John Lennon and I will do it.

NEWSCASTER: It's now 14 hours since John Lennon was shot

at the entrance to the Dakota building on West 72nd Street.

As for the suspect...

Mark David Chapman.Mark David Chapman.Mark David Chapman.

Nobody knows what the motive was

in what seems to be a totally senseless killing.

CHAPMAN: And I started slipping into an abyss that ended in murder.

So I became Holden Caulfield...with a sword.

It was like a train hitting another train on the same track head on.

All of my nobody-ness and all of his somebody-ness collided.

I found my identity in being a crusader

and launching a crusade against phoney-ness.

The book became the reason John Lennon was killed.

Not my confusion, not my insaneness,

not my trigger finger, but the book.

INTERVIEWER: What do you mean by peace?

Just...all its...all its aspects.

Peace of mind, peace in the street,

peace in your own home, peace throughout the world.

Really it means no violence.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

RECORDED VOICE: An inmate at New York State Department of Corrections

and Community Supervision.

To accept this free call press one.

(KEYPAD BEEPS)Thank you, you may start the conversation now.

I've been thinking a lot since the last time we talked and...

I've been really struggling to answer questions

about good and evil

and where that line is.

CHAPMAN ON PHONE: Yeah.And where people get pushed, shoved, pulled across it.

You just hit on something Jack, something huge.

There has been a definite change in my understanding of what happened

between when we talked for the book and then now, 30 years later.

And it's a definitive change cos it's like rock bottom.

I went down to the very rock-bottom level, it took me a long time.

Right.With the Lord's help...

..I can finally say it now.

My name is Jack Jones.

I'm a journalist nominated, fortunately,

three times for the Pulitzer Prize.

I stood my watch during the Vietnam War

and I came home driven to write about religion

and violence and human behaviour.

Trying to unravel some of the mysteries

as to why people kill other people.

I am the biographer of Mark David Chapman,

the man who murdered John Lennon in 1980.

I meet very few humans who don't make me think,

"There but for the grace of God go I",

particularly the Vietnam vets that I worked with in prison.

It's very much a feeling that I could be sitting on the other side being interviewed

unless a few things had clicked and gone the right way for me.

Meeting people who, rather than turning away,

listened to my story and tried to help.

The best way I found to help was to listen to other people

and try to tell their stories.

So, I began to pursue what I had wanted to do since childhood,

which was become a writer.

Here are the original newspaper plates and the photo that I took

after my first meetings with Mark David Chapman.

I think he was composing a letter to his wife in this photo

that he wanted me to mail her.

Quote from Sting - "Once you've decided on a killing,

First you make a stone of your heart.

And if you find that your hands are still willing,

You can turn a murder into art."

Murder By Numbers.

The astonishing thing

is that I ever wound up in a position to be writing this story.

I guess I've always wondered whether it was morally justified

to help bring about the sort of fame and notoriety

that was a big part of why he murdered John Lennon.

When I first met Mark,

he was very paranoid about me,

assumed that I was going to

fabricate a story about our meetings for a quick buck.

I promised I wouldn't

and, eight years later,

I received a letter asking if I would meet with him.

Dan Rather, Barbara Walters -

all the media stars had written him personally

and he gave me about a three sentence statement

that he asked me to have published.

And I said, "Mark, you've known me many years now

and if you're serious about trying to explain

why you did this horrible thing, then let's sit down,

do a series of interviews and write a book."

A week or two later I received a letter

that he said was dictated by God.

And um...it was...it was God telling Mark

that he should work with me and produce the book

which became Let Me Take You Down.

He was still coming out of the maelstrom of

bringing into focus the enormity

of what he had done by murdering John Lennon.

And he realised that he was going to have to be honest with himself.

My objective was to begin to understand

why any human being would kill another human being,

which had troubled me since the Vietnam War.

Mark was very withdrawn.

I could sense some sort of rage still there,

confusion, paranoia...

..and a great deal of mistrust.

But once Mark started...

..it began to spill.

CHAPMAN ON RECORDING: The day is March 18th.

We're at Attica Correctional Facility.

This is the official starting of the project today,

and we decided to start with perhaps a chronological view of my life

and what shaped my identity and why I did it.

JONES:

Nothing.

No.

I would have shot him in the back, just like I did,

and there was nothing could have stopped me.

I would have gone back 100 times to New York and tried to find him.

I was totally fixated on John Lennon

and I think I would have remained fixated till his death.

JACK ON TAPE:

I did make choices, I made several hundred choices.

It was a solution to destroy my rage.

I was out of control and there's nothing I could have done

that could have stopped me from killing John Lennon.

I was born in Fort Worth, Texas, May 10th 1955.

My father was an Air Force staff sergeant.

My mother was a graduate nurse.

I wasn't deprived in any way of anything.

My mother loved me, my father loved me.

I had friends. But I was private.

And I could have fun for hours by myself.

Maybe a lot of kids are like that way, maybe it's not an unusual thing.

His dad tried to be a good father,

take him to sporting events, school activities,

and bought him, when he was eight-years-old,

his first Beatle album.

CHAPMAN ON RECORDING: They were coming to the Atlanta Stadium soon.

I don't remember asking my father if I could go,

but I do remember asking him to please, please

buy me their first record which was called Meet The Beatles.

And I remember playing that record over and over and over again.

I would often play it alone, when my parents would leave,

and I would rock on the sofa.

And at one point I even took some green plastic soldiers

and I would cut out little guitars and place them over their guns.

And I would set them out in the middle of the floor...

..and I'd play the record and have a little concert

for the little people.

I remember thinking, "Wow!

Wouldn't it be great to be one of these guys?"

Mark, at that time, had escaped into his own fantasy world

where he would shut everything else out

and turn to a village, you know, of little people

who lived inside the walls of his home.

I had the whole world of people expanded in my mind

and they lived along the walls and along the baseboard.

And they would get in elevators and go up the side of the wall.

There was thousands of little windows and everything.

And they would live there and I would rock again on the sofa

and play music for them.

If he was having a bad day,

he would summon the little people and he would kill off a bunch of them.

So, you had a disturbed child...

Rrarrgh! (ECHOES)

..whose father worked hard

but never could make enough money to please his wife,

who had begun to feel that her own life was sort of at a dead end

because of the man she had married.

He remembers her running into his bedroom naked

and screaming, "Protect me."

So he found himself between his naked mother and his father.

He contemplated killing his father.

And it was the little people

who talked him out of violence against his own father.

And it was the little people

who tried, unsuccessfully,

to convince him not to murder John Lennon.

His mother told him that anything he wanted to do

he was going to be the very best at it.

And he fully expected

that the world was going to open up for him in that way

and that's not how things happened.

NEWSCASTER: 3,000 screaming teenagers

are at New York's Kennedy airport to greet, you guessed it, The Beatles.

MAN: The Beatles come to America for the first time in February of 1964.

The Beatles were very nervous about coming to America

because UK pop stars don't often make it in America.

And when they land and there are thousands of people

cheering them and welcoming them, they are astonished.

They're flabbergasted by the intensity of it,

the fans who stalk their every move,

who were trying to get into the Plaza Hotel,

who follow them out to the park when they do a photo shoot.

It's important to remember that, in the British mind,

America was a land of fantasy.

America is the land where all of these dreams come true.

So, for them, the biggest fantasy that could come true

is that America would embrace them and they'd become ideal Americans.

When they land that day at JFK, John is 23-years-old.

He has a kid who was born in 1963, Julian.

He has a wife named Cynthia.

He has adult responsibilities

that are starting to come in to play

at a moment when he didn't necessarily expect them to arrive.

So, he's in a strange place.

He grew up in a complicated, by any stretch, household.

Ultimately, he was raised by his mother's sister, Mimi,

which gave him a sense of stability

that he was not going to get from his mother Julia.

She's very smart, artistic

and she passes those things, one way or another, onto her son.

But she will be ripped out of his life in July 1958 in a car accident,

after leaving her sister Mimi's home.

John used to describe the loss of his mother as losing her twice.

He had lost her when he was very, very young

and then, of course, he loses her again

when she suffers that fateful accident.

He would be set adrift yet again, as he had been early in life.

CHAPMAN: They were in, like, another orbit, another constellation.

I felt I was worthy of being in that constellation.

I had these images of myself being an artist, of being a brilliant man.

I had forced myself to believe I really would become something.

And I thought I was destined for something special.

REPORTER: Did you mean that the Beatles are more popular that Christ?

This is Tommy Charles. If you, as an American teenager,

are offended by statements from a group of foreign singers,

which strike at the very basis of our existence

as God-fearing patriotic citizens,

then we urge you to take your Beatle records, pictures and souvenirs

to the pick-up points about to be named.

And, on the night of the Beatles appearance in Memphis, August 19th,

they will be destroyed in a huge public bonfire

at a place to be named soon.

WOMACK: The summer of 1966,

an article is reprinted in Datebook in the United States.

John Lennon's remarks about the Beatles being bigger than Jesus.

A kind of hysteria emerged around it.

And there were Beatles burnings going on, riots.

There was an anger about it.

RILEY: When that quote ran in the summer of '66,

they started getting death threats and the Bible belt was holding bonfires.

And the Ku Klux Klan shows up and is protesting Beatle concerts.

It wasn't that it wasn't true,

it was just blasphemous to actually come out and say it out loud.

We've reached a degree of popularity that has never been seen before.

And John Lennon becomes branded, really, from that point,

for the rest of his life, as a kind of atheist.

LENNON: It doesn't matter about people not liking our records or the way we look or what we say.

You know, they're entitled to not like us.

We're entitled not to have anything to do with them

if we don't want to or not to regard them.

The disc jockey, Tommy Charles, who started this row off,

has said he won't play your records until you've grown up a little.

I don't mind if he never plays them again.

Do you mind being asked questions?

In America, people keep asking you about Vietnam.

It seems silly to be in America and for none of them to mention Vietnam,

as if nothing was happening. I mean, you can't just keep quiet

about anything that's going on in the world unless you're a monk.

Sorry, monks, I didn't mean it. I meant actually.(CHUCKLES)

RILEY: He's always politically engaged.

He's always reading the news in the newspaper.

He's just against the war from a moral standpoint.

He did not feel like it was his right or his place

to be deeply critical of American politics

until he was an American citizen. So his message was always peace.

It was not "Get out of Vietnam",

it was, you know, "The larger value here is peace."

And a huge antiwar movement starts to bloom across American campuses

throughout 1965 and 1966 to 1967,

when you have your first march on the Pentagon

and you have hundreds of thousands of people descend on Washington.

So it's a deep generational divide that develops there.

But Lennon is a spearhead of that because he's antiwar,

he was anti-military-industrial,

he was anti the war machine.

And his point with Give Peace A Chance

was if we invested that much in peaceful means,

we might be in a better place.

CHAPMAN: He represented a spirit of man at his best.

The struggle toward doing something that's painful but that has to be done.

The quest for truth and ultimately the idealism

that made John Lennon John Lennon.

The idealism that there was a better world,

you could be a better person and you should try for it.

He was the first person that said you could try for it

and maybe you'll get it.

He's the first person to say that maybe it's practical putting up

billboards that say "War is over if you want it." So he represented that

in man, the fact that there was a part of your spirit that lived,

that could do so much better.

When the Beatles stop touring in 1966, a number of things occur.

One, John Lennon amps up his songwriting.

The songs keep rolling out of him, even when he's really depressed.

At the end of '66, when the marriage is falling apart

and he's deeply into LSD,

he would just wake up and just taking pills every day.

What we would call a wildly out-of-control drug addict today.

In the '60s, he was simply carving out

the rock-star lifestyle that's a deep cliche now.

It was a kind of drug use that was, "How can I make sense of me

and my position in the world and where do I belong?

Even though I'm one of the most beloved people in the world,

I feel empty, I don't have a lot of self-love."

He meets Yoko Ono and this is a very deeply pivotal moment in his life.

John will meet, in November 1966, Yoko Ono.

He famously steps on a ladder and looks through a telescope

and there's the word "Yes".

So he meets this woman who has this kind of aggressive art aesthetic,

for lack of a better phrase.

He connects with her and John exists

in this kind of strange space in time.

He has the familial experience back at home

and then he's the rock star who rides around with his driver

in the psychedelic Rolls-Royce, imbibing tons of LSD.

And, meanwhile, he's met this one woman

who connects with him in a certain way about ideas.

So John is in a strange space during this period.

NEWSREEL ANNOUNCER: Far from the noise and pace of city life

in the cool, clear air of Rishikesh, North India,

Pathe News reports from the meditation retreat of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi.

The man who, through transcendental meditation,

is currently bringing peace of mind to the Beatles.

His life begins to make a lot more sense in 1968

when the Beatles throw themselves into Eastern culture.

They go to India and to Rishikesh with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi.

And he begins to realise that he's been multiple people.

In short order, he breaks up his marriage

and announces to the world that he's with Yoko.

And John begins to solidify whom he wants to be.

What he doesn't want is to be constrained in the same ways

that he had felt in the mid 1960s. He doesn't want that any more.

He would use his celebrity to argue against the various wars

that his homeland and the United States were engaged in at the time.

He will become a kind of leader of the counterculture,

although he's more of a passive leader

in comparison to a number of the Americans who are participating.

I've always looked at their whole trip to India and the Maharishi

as other Beatles gathering around him and kind of saying,

"He needs a break form this. He's out of control

and he keeps running into these brick walls.

We need to take care of this guy and get his dry a little bit."

And he comes back and he still has

years and years of lots of heavy drug use

but he likes to talk about meeting Yoko Ono

as, like, this redemptive moment for him.

That this person really revealed to him a lot more of who he really was

and how he could be more of the person he really wanted to be,

but had not figured out how to do yet.

We're going to stay in bed for seven days

sort of instead of having a private honeymoon, it's a private protest...

For the violence that's going in the world.

We feel that instead of making war, it's better to just stay in bed.

And grow your hair.Yes.For peace. Let it grow till the peace comes.

So we're doing it for world peace, you know.

And we believe that. Also it's a joke.

Yoko Ono is very influential

in his thinking about his status as a rock star

and what the possibilities are for him to be an agent of change.

And I think she helps him understand, "Look, you have

tremendous creative energy and you could

start spreading messages of love and peace on an even bigger scale

or a different kind of scale than All You Need Is Love.

'Like think of that as a first step.'

REPORTER: What about the future of the Beatles?

Do you feel that you're still a group?

You've gone through a lot of phases -Sure, sure.

We're closer now, you know, than we ever were.

The Beatles had built a very intense connection with fans

and we will see it continue after they no longer exist as a unit.

CHAPMAN: I remember the first time I did LSD.

I was in my room... (VOICE ECHOES)

..and, of course, my room had changed,

the music had changed and my life had changed.

I got the stereo and the headphones

and used to listen to Hendrix and the Doors and the Beatles.

The Beatles were no longer the Beatles that I had rocked

and putting on little concerts for the little people.

The Beatles now were into psychedelics,

they were into Hindu meditation,

they were into long hair and beards

and they fit right along with my plans.

I was a hippy.

I had long hair.

We were among the first in the whole high school.

It was the first time I'd ever been part of something.

Aged 15, Mark enters Colombia High School

and, always wanting to be part of the cutting edge,

Mark embarked on a life as a hippy kid.

And within a year or so, ran away from home.

Like a lot of kids who don't excel, either athletically or academically,

Mark was a target of the so-called "jock" crowd.

I really wasn't that athletically inclined.

I was more of a thinker.

And I remember receiving some flack about that and that really hurt.

That crushed me.

And it was just humiliating. I didn't know what to do.

I thought I was going to be a tough guy

and I went down there to pick a fight with him.

And he laid into my face with about four or five punches

and it really stung me and I started crying.

For the rest of my life, I couldn't deal with violent behaviour,

I couldn't deal with conflict. I always had to bury conflict.

It made me feel scared inside. It made me a coward

because I didn't like pain, I didn't like what it felt like.

He remembers being proud of being called a dirty hippy

because that meant that he had some identity.

Since childhood, for whatever reason,

he had struggled to define himself and be part of a group.

As a dirty hippy, he was something.

That continued up until the point

that two older dirty hippies robbed him and left him on the beach.

That's where all of his faith in the counterculture

and peace and love and hippy world kind of fell apart.

And desperation began calling out

to what he perceived to be God to come and save him.

If my soul could be considered a dark round room,

then I invited Christ into that dark room

and the Holy Spirit came in, metaphysically,

entwining and meshing itself with my soul.

Behold, new things have begun.

Mark was an immediate star in the evangelical circles.

He was a prime example of what God can do,

at least on the outside,

to people who accept him as their personal saviour.

One of the memories that his friends have from that time

is at one of their Christian youth group meetings,

after John Lennon released the song Imagine There's No Heaven,

Mark bringing his guitar and singing,

"Imagine John Lennon is dead."

They were just stunned. "Wait a minute, we're Christians.

We don't kill people, we don't imagine people dead."

WOMACK: Imagine is a deceptively complex song.

It's less about atheism, if it was at all.

It's trying to challenge people to imagine

that you didn't have to keep divvying up the world the way we always had and still do.

Imagine people have equal access, equal levels of experience,

that they can live without being trod upon by others.

That record will become very important in his career.

The defining moment for him though

will be the move to the United States in 1971.

He likes himself in New York.

He likes the way he can move back and forth

from his celebrity to a guy walking around the streets.

This is exciting to him.

But during this period and probably, very fatefully,

for the rest of his life and the course it will take,

he finds himself locked in an immigration fight.

MAN: The US Government came to his house and tried to deport him.

John was in the process of breaking up the Beatles' relationship

with Allen Klein, the manager of the Beatles.

And during that time all of their money was being held in escrow.

So although they had millions of dollars in income, they didn't have any of it.

So it was a very difficult time for John and he was drinking even more.

And at that point, during the fall of '72,

the FBI was starting to investigate John.

The Nixon administration was afraid of John Lennon

because they thought that he was going to lead a concert

at the Republican Convention in September of '72.

They felt that if he came they'd have tens of thousands,

maybe hundreds of thousands, more people coming to see him.

Someone shouts out, "The cops are coming with tear gas and clubs."

Everybody runs.

That's why we asked for, like, a hundred grand.

We decided to grab the bull by the horns.

The revolutionaries, Jerry Rubin and Abbie Hoffman, wanted him to come

and were putting out word that John Lennon might be there.

By the fall, he was under deportation order, all his money was in escrow,

and he's getting really bad reviews for the Some Time in New York City album,

which was very political and not very Beatlesque.

John was a person with strong opinions about the world.

And I think that he felt it was time for him to express those opinions.

And he wasn't afraid of the reaction.

He was surprised that the reaction was SO negative.

He thought he'd get some positive reactions to it.

John was used to being on top of the world.

His records had all gone gold and platinum immediately with the Beatles

and his solo albums, Imagine and so on, sold a lot.

His career was going down,

he wasn't being liked as much as he used to be.

He was feeling pretty depressed in the fall of '72.

And during the fall and winter, the FBI was investigating.

So it got a little too public where they were living

and they went to live up in the Dakota apartment.

I remember one night driving him up to the Dakota and he said,

"Let's keep on going up to 91st Street"

that he was staying at May Pang's apartment.

And I was like really shocked being one of the first people to hear

that John and Yoko were no longer actually living together.

And it was shortly after that that John went out to Los Angeles.

1973, Mark graduates from high school...

and is accepted as a member

of an international YMCA delegation to go to Beirut, Lebanon.

(PROJECTOR CLICKS AND WHIRS)

CHAPMAN: Thousands of applicants from all over the country

and only a handful get chosen for these programmes

and I was very, very excited.

And I just was almost breaking down in tears that I had been chosen.

And, as fate would have it,

that's when the Middle East was beginning to fall apart.

(EXPLOSION)

Mark was part of a group that got caught up in that.

Had pretty much no sooner gotten off the plane,

than they were hiding out under fire.

And he remembers having to scramble for cover

while things were blowing up and gunfire was erupting around them.

CHAPMAN: Lebanon at this time had just started their civil war

and there was these tremendous bombs and blasts going off

and we hid under our beds.

This was worldwide news. Thousands of people were being killed while we were there.

Just imagine being 18 years old and, you know,

having not even been through military training or boot camp,

and suddenly bullets are whizzing so close you can hear them fly.

For several days you're pinned down, crawling under beds and tables,

trying not to get killed.

I think it was shattering because he doesn't have a stomach for fighting

the way that some people might.

I could have never imagined him being drafted, for example.

He's entirely too fearful, too unconvicted,

to have ever put himself knowingly at any personal risk and conflict.

He was instinctually...a coward.

From there he started college, very ill-prepared.

God is not going to take you through a history exam

unless you've bothered to read the book.

I was having trouble staying in college.

I was having trouble concentrating.

And then having that class on war at Covenant College was just...

That class on war really deeply disturbed me.

I studied three or four hours a night

and probably a good hour or two of that

was spent on that world history class,

where we talked about the incredible carnage,

the bodies of World War I and II.

It was just too much.

After failing to keep up his grades enough to stay in college,

he began to go through serious bouts of depression

and began initially to have thoughts of suicide

and harming other people in addition to himself.

He became a security guard at the Atlanta airport.

When I got the job at Protective Services, I would sit in the car

and bathe myself in self pity

and I decided to do it, to really, really do it, to kill myself.

And I remember the map of idyllic islands of Hawaii.

In my deep despair,

there was a place I could go to for a last few days

before I killed myself.

And he determined that he was going to save all of his money,

move to Hawaii, spend it all on one last beautiful fling,

getting the best he could drain from what was left of life

and then commit suicide.

It was a difficult time for John. He was getting drunk,

he was depressed, he was angry.

Yoko wanted to keep working and it was probably getting pretty annoying

to have this drunk, depressed guy in the house all the time.

So, she suggested to him that they take a separation

and suggested that May Pang, their assistant, go with him.

The way John describes it is that their separation didn't work.

But Yoko wouldn't let him come back until he had sobered up and had a better attitude

and that took a while.

He was in Los Angeles with the boys.

He was drinking a lot with Harry Nilsson, Alice Cooper, Keith Moon.

A tough one to keep up with if you're drinking.

But John had a way of drinking more and taking more

than just about anybody else.

And not that he could handle it well. He often got out of control.

And in public that could be embarrassing.

There were nights where he was screaming and cursing

and out-of-control drunk. But after he got thrown out of the Troubadour

and saw his picture on the cover of the paper, that sobered him up.

That brought him back to reality and he actually did get sober.

He came back to New York and pretty much didn't drink for the rest of his life.

He was very torn and kind of driven.

He was really, really famous, he was bottoming out.

He could not make head or tail

of how to be in LA with all his drinking buddies,

and he realised he wanted more.

The only way he could work out how to do it was to completely pull the plug and do a radical 180.

Well, if you're going to commit suicide

and you want to live it up before you do it,

you're gonna go first class, right?

So Mark flies first class from Georgia to Honolulu

and rents himself a room at the historic Moana Hotel.

CHAPMAN: And I left for Hawaii to kill myself.

I chose the Moana Hotel which means ocean in Hawaiian.

And is living on the beach, eating the finest food,

drinking the little umbrella drinks, until the money started running out.

And when the money did run out,

he wound up on the street,

going from the ultimate state room

to living in homeless shelters.

You don't start a new life, you just start living in another place. Your life stays the same.

And the same things that you ran from

will always return to haunt you, no matter where you go.

Although I'll give Hawaii one up on that.

There's something very special about Hawaii.

I can credit that place with saving my life.

You think about all the things that he failed at in life and...

and er...that includes suicide.

I was truly gonna die that day and this was my last look at life.

I took out a vacuum cleaner hose,

duct-taped it to the tailpipe of the car.

The car was filled with smoke.

I remember being startled by a knocking right by my head

and it was a Japanese fisherman.

He took that as a sign from God that he was supposed to live.

Called a mental health hotline

to report that he was a suicide survivor.

Was officially a patient,

I think two weeks, on a constant 24-hour suicide watch.

Even if I took a shower, somebody had to be in there.

I started getting better.

I became a volunteer on the unit

and that was my lifeline until I was able to walk on my own again.

He sort of gained a new identity as a mental health therapist

while he was being treated as a suicide survivor.

That was the starting road towards a plateau of peace for about a year.

But there's a time to change, there's a time to move on.

I didn't need that constant daily reminder

that I had been quote "sick" unquote

because I had become well or at least a passable form of well.

He felt the need to escape,

so he saved his money and decided

that what he needed to do was see the world.

And the woman who helped him plan this trip was Gloria,

who would later become his wife,

a first-generation Japanese Hawaiian girl.

(RINGING TONE)

GLORIA: Hi, Jack.Hey there. I'm worried about you, dear friend.

You are?I am.

Is there going to be a thunderstorm tonight?

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

Have you talked to Mark today?

No, he doesn't... He rarely calls,

um, you know, early in the day, it's usually

closer to eight or something like that.

That's what I thought. That's when he's usually called me in the past.

So that's what I was thinking.Yeah.

So, yeah, can I ask you...

Um... I'm feeling like because of your health and Mark's health,

there's a really good chance that Mark will get paroled this year.

And I think it's very timely here, after 40 years

that he's been locked away, and anybody who did what he had done,

involving any other human being on the planet,

would have been freed probably 25 years ago.

Do you have any premonitions or sentiments about that?No.

I don't. And I don't know if you know that it was...

He normally goes in August but um...

Mark's parole has been moved to later.

Yeah. So not in August this year.

Oh, jeez. So September or...?

I don't have a date. I just know it's not happening in August.

If it's not something that the people who -You can ask um...

Mark if he has any more information. OK.See what he says.

OK, I will try to talk to him about that a little more,

email him and hopefully he will call me.

If he does call me, I'll tell him,

"Please try and get a hold of Jack because..."

(COUGHS) Yeah. But, anyway... OK, take care.You too, Gloria.

And I hope to see you on Sunday.OK, sounds good. Thankyou.

God bless.God bless you. Bye. Bye-bye.

GRUEN: Spring of '75, he went back to visit Yoko

and he stayed home for once.

That's when he told us that Yoko was pregnant with Sean.

He was very excited about that.

Sean was born in October on the same day that John found out

that they won their immigration case

and were finally allowed to stay in the United States.

And it was in January after that

that they finally settled their deal with Allen Klein

and got hold of their money and were no longer

under any management or any record contracts.

He was finally free for the first time in his life.

And he had a new baby to stay home and take care of.

John took Sean very seriously.

He really took a hands-on approach.

He felt very badly that he hadn't had the time to raise Julian.

When Julian, his first son, was born, John was in the Beatles.

He was travelling around the world and his life was completely chaos.

And it was pretty chaotic up until he sobered up in '75.

When Sean was born he took it seriously.

He wanted to have that experience

and he spent the next five years at home in the Dakota

away from the public eye.

He cancelled his subscriptions to the music business magazines,

he didn't listen to popular radio.

He said if the radio was on it was classical music, something calm and soothing.

He learned a lot about responsibility,

about raising his son, about taking care of his family,

and it was making such a difference in his life.

He's no Ansel Adams, for sure,

but he could do a credible job as a promotional photographer.

CHAPMAN: July '78,

I worked as a housekeeper through the spring and the summer.

And during that spring is when I decided

that I'd like to go on a trip.

Not enjoying the work that he was required to do

in order to pull his weight in society,

Mark decides that he needs to start a new life

and he does that by taking a trip around the world.

And met with a YMCA person in Tokyo

who was the Japanese director of the YMCA,

and had a real passionate concern for the refugees

fleeing Vietnam after the ending to the war there.

Mark described how he began feeling guilty

that he'd gotten so far away from the empathy

that he had once felt for people at the mercies of stronger forces.

Travelled from Tokyo to Korea, where he saw a lot of poverty.

And from there went to Nepal and India,

where he saw starving old people on the streets,

poverty-stricken homeless children

who came flooding out of a school

when they saw an American handing out gum.

He had never experienced anything that gut-wrenchingly sad

of starving children and old people

cast aside and dying on the sidewalks.

It plunged him into a depression over the human condition.

CHAPMAN: You never find the place that's going to help you.

You have to make the place in your heart.

But at that time, I thought if I changed the place

things would be better, but I would still bring my same baggage.

And I didn't find that until recently.

You have be responsible and pack your own bags.

That where the bags go is not where the answers are,

it's what's in the bags.

From there he travelled to Europe,

met with his old YMCA boss

who at that time was in Geneva, Switzerland.

Talked to that friend about the depression he was feeling...

..and the differences between those who have money and are born to wealth

and those that he had seen in India,

humans dying and apparently not caring.

He believed that John and Yoko were sincere

about using their wealth and power to help downtrodden people.

And then he got the sense that they were simply using their money

to make more money.

That shattered his last illusion

that John Lennon was any sort of prophet or worthwhile role model.

He remembers coming back from that trip

and his travel agent, Gloria Abe, who had arranged the trip,

she was at the airport there to meet him with a big welcome-home sign.

She described falling in love with him immediately.

CHAPMAN: I got back from the trip in the August

and Gloria and I started seeing each other and falling in love.

We were married in June 1979,

about eight months after I had returned from my trip.

(MOBILE RINGS AND BUZZES)

Oh...Mark here...great. Thanks for calling.

(CHUCKLES)Welcome. Very welcome buddy.

Sorry we haven't talked enough.

You know, it's different now,

phone calls are a little harder to make.

I usually just get half hour a day. I like to call Gloria.

Sometimes, Jack, it is so hot and humid

I can't call her, I can't even get out of bed.

So it has to be...

All the stars...all the planets have to be aligned.

I hate to say it, that's just the way it is.

It's just good to hear your voice again.

I'm glad to know that you're getting the videograms

and the photos that I've been sending.Fantastic.

And -They're a piece of life. They're a piece of life.

I hope this year that you're gonna walk out of there

and some time you're gonna be able to visit.Awesome, that would be incredible.

I think there are a lot of reasons why that could happen.

You've had some health problems, Gloria's had some health problems.

And I just think on practical health and humanitarian grounds,

you're gonna come out of there this year.

I don't know about this year, I don't know about any year.

I just trust the Lord. He knows whether it's going to happen, even at all or not.

Right, I have been going through all of our tapes and reliving the time

that we spent together, and I guess right now I'm curious about if we

could go back and do that again.

If, in all these years, there have been any additional revelations

that you might have come to of what this whole thing means for you and...

There's been a lot. I mean, it's been 30 years

and I have done nothing but gotten closer to the Lord.

These things are enduring

and this crime was not done in one state or in one country.

It was done, you know, worldwide, unfortunately,

and it has impact to this day.

I do want to tell you this. Just be rock solid positive about this.

Now I want to talk with you, I want to talk more detailed stuff

than I can now. OK, enough said.

Thank you for treating Gloria right. I appreciate that.

Oh, it's uh... Gloria is someone I really care about.

You know, she is your uh...

She's your pearl of great price -

I think I mentioned once before.No question about it.

I'm really in love.

I don't think I knew what love is

until, you know, this latter part of my life.

Love means you put the other person first, think about their interests.

Sounds like you're loving her now the way she loved you

from the beginning...That's right. ..of your time together.

And the way that she moved from Hawaii there when you were in prison

to just be near you.Yeah.

That's right.Yeah.RECORDED VOICE: You have one minute left.

I gotta go.OK. Thanks, Mark. God bless.

Uh...All right.Call again when you can.

OK. God bless you.

Bless you and...Bye...best to Gloria.

I'll give her that.OK.Take care. Yeah. Bye-bye.Bye-bye.

(LINE CLICKS) The caller has hung up. Goodbye.

This is the hard part -

looking at these photographs of another life

in an album that I sent my wife from Japan

after I first arrived there for voluntary duty in 1963.

It's been so many years since I've opened this.

The first photos I ever took of her

at a time when she wanted nothing to do with me in high school.

I think this is the only photo that survives of our wedding day.

This is, I think, when she was pregnant with our daughter

in 1964.

This photo reminds me how beautiful she was

and how much we loved one another...

until that horrible accident.

When I was in Thailand training in communications in the Vietnam War

and was on the way back home from a friend's going-away party,

we were on this jungle road near the Cambodian border

when a drunk driver hit us from behind.

She was killed instantly.

I spent the next seven months in a missionary hospital

in Bangkok, Thailand,

getting my bones and internal organs knit back together.

I was probably less than a half mile from our home

when everything went black.

I was unconscious for three days and I woke up unaware of where I was,

remembering that my wife should be with me,

and trying to cry for my wife

and someone pushing me down and passing out

and being unconscious for another two or three days.

My three-and-a-half year old daughter with her caretaker,

a time when I was trying to find the words to...

..tell her what had happened.

After the accident,

I was easily caught up in episodic drinking,

the use of psychedelic drugs.

I suspect that had I not had that child

to love and to care for,

that I would have become carried away

and perhaps swept away and perhaps imprisoned.

It just left me with a profound sense of loss,

of sadness and guilt

and empathy for what other people experience

after tragedies that they could not have possibly imagined happening.

I really struggle to understand the reasons for violence.

And the most difficult violence of all to understand

is people who wantonly murder innocent people

the way Mark David Chapman did.

After the marriage, Gloria described beginning to feel neglected

mainly because Mark's mom

had suddenly decided to leave her husband and move to Hawaii.

CHAPMAN: So, after my world trip, my parents told me about the divorce.

My mum wanted to come out for one more trial visit

to see if this is really where she wanted to come.

She fell instantly in love with Hawaii

and I told her I'd take care of her.

He became once again angry at the father,

after learning that his father

had not offered any kind of financial support to her.

I was very angry at my father.

I had a fantasy of blowing his head away.

I thought about doing that, about killing my father,

about breaking in and holding a gun to his head.

(SINISTER VOICE) "This is what you get for what you did to my mother."

Boom, boom, boom, boom. Cos that'd make him suffer before he died.

Cos that'd make him suffer.

She was wearing bikinis and walking the beach

and picking up men who were his age and bringing them home.

This began turning his still-fragile mind

into the sort of confusion that would lead him back to the depression.

Mom was a complicated narcissistic individual

and when two narcissists come into conflict,

one of them is going to collapse.

And, in this case it was Mark who collapsed within himself.

1980 was a watershed year for him in terms of depression.

He was failing at everything he tried.

He was in freefall, mentally.

The time Mark stumbled on John Lennon: One Day At A Time

at the Honolulu public library,

his life was in total disarray.

CHAPMAN: I was in a library in 1980.

The library, for me, was a refuge

from the pain and confusion of the world around me.

I remember going down an aisle,

not looking for any book in particular,

and I came across One Day At A Time by Anthony Fawcett.

And I remember seeing the pictures of John Lennon

on the gabled roof of the Dakota building in New York...

and I became enraged.

There was a successful man who kind of had the world on a chain

and there I was, not even a link of that chain.

And something in me just broke.

He learned that John Lennon

was living in this incredibly expensive,

beautiful historic New York City apartment building...

and he sensed that John Lennon was the biggest phoney on the planet.

Because here was a guy who had written and sang

about peace and love and equality,

hiding away in the lap of luxury.

At the same time, he was re-reading the classic coming of age book

The Catcher in the Rye

and this character, Holden Caulfield,

who spends a wild weekend in New York City

seeing adults behave in these hypocritical and phoney ways.

And it's where all those illusions of fairness and equality

began to crumble.

That all collided at that point.

His inability to deal with his own problems,

his realisation that he was never going to be

the famous person known for doing anything of significance

that his mum had pretty much made him promise he would do.

CHAPMAN: There is a tornado in my mind circling around my brain,

bits and pieces crashing into the walls -

debris, broken things, cloudy things, things I can't see.

But at all times at the forefront,

the big black cloud of the tornado,

the hurt, the frustration, the lack of esteem.

I believe I found in a reading of The Catcher in the Rye,

a small anchor that even if I was still pulled around

I wasn't pulled around as fast.

And shortly thereafter I was to think about killing John Lennon.

Once again he found himself as a security guard,

and he thought of that as the biggest nobody job in the world.

I don't remember where the little people came from the second time around in 1980.

I do remember it was under times of tremendous pressure.

I was working long hours as a security guard

and I can't remember a specific hour or a day or moment

when I began this imaginary world of little people,

but it did come back.

I was like the President, where they were my subjects

and I would speak with them through the means of television,

through imaginary television.

There was a board of the little people,

very trained, specialised individuals

who handled things for me,

and I would turn to them and they'd tell me what to do.

But as it were, these little people abandoned me

when they were informed that I wanted to murder John Lennon.

And they did leave me at that point.

Usually people will tell you that

the little people told them to kill somebody

or told them to burn that person,

hurt that person or stab that person.

My little people didn't want me to do any harm to anybody...

..and uh...they shortly dissolved afterwards.

After he was abandoned by the little people,

he began focusing on the details

of what a sniper would do

if his assignment was to track and kill another human being.

And he began practising to become the ultimate tourist

who had come from Hawaii to New York City to get an autograph.

Now, New York at this time,

New York just come off an incredibly divisive hostile decade.

The '70s were really, really large increases in crime, white flight,

move to the suburbs, move to the Sunbelt.

This is a time when New York City police officers

were actually greeting people at JFK airport

and handing them pamphlets that said "Welcome to Fear City".

There was a feeling in New York if you walked down the street,

you wouldn't get to the end of the block without getting mugged.

That was what we were trying to leave behind.

And John, in many ways, was a wind at our backs to say,

"You know what, there are better things ahead."

The music made you feel good,

made you feel that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

You saw John Lennon walking down the street.

And he didn't just walk down the street with his head down,

he smiled, he waved, he was friendly.

And people would show up at the Dakota

and they'd literally stand there for hours, waiting for him to come in or come out.

It's a box and you can drive into the centre of it through a gate,

so that he could have had his car go inside the Dakota

and gotten into it and then left.

When he came back, he could driven into the Dakota again

and gotten out with nobody near him, but that wasn't his way.

He would intentionally have the car parked on the street

and he would walk and he would sign autographs.

And, of course, ironically, there's that famous photograph of Lennon

autographing the Double Fantasy album for Mark David Chapman earlier that day.

CHAPMAN: I was reading The Catcher In The Rye when suddenly, "He's coming, he's coming!"

And I just shoved the book back into my pocket

and I came over and I said "John, would you sign my album?"

And I handed him my album and then he wrote his name.

And he handed it back to me and he said, "Is that all you want?"

Like an inquiry into another matter.

And I said, "Yeah." I said, "Thanks John."

And then he got into the car and drove away.

I had an urge right then and there to get out of there

and then a few minutes later,

asking the Devil to help me have the strength and the courage

and the opportunity to kill him.

Lennon left that afternoon

and Mark continued to hang out into the evening,

wandering under the streetlights,

sometimes reading The Catcher In The Rye.

He describes this angry child in the back of his brain beginning to say,

"You're a coward, you said you were gonna do it."

And all of a sudden from way across on Central Park West,

I see a limo pull up to the stop light...

..and I know that it's him.

I have this incredible feeling and I heard a voice in my head saying,

"Do it, do it, do it."

And as he passed me, I walked out

about three quarters across the paved driveway,

pulled out the gun, went down in a crouched position,

cupped the gun with my left hand

and aimed at his back and pulled the trigger five times.

(GUNSHOTS)

At that point it was just so dark and surreal,

there's no way to describe what it was like.

It was like a vacuum

and you could smell the gunfire in the air.

And I believe this was when I had started breaking down.

And I began pacing.

MAN: December 8th of 1980, around 10:30 at night,

my partner, Tony Palma, and myself

were getting ready to go out on patrol.

A radio run came over from the dispatcher

about possible shots fired on 72nd Street and Central Park West.

We arrived at the Dakota. All of a sudden Steve Spiro,

who is the arresting officer, ran in and I heard him say,

"Get your hands against the wall. Don't make any quick moves."

Steve had come around the corner and seen him just standing there reading this book,

The Catcher In The Rye.

It looked like he could care less.

You know, he had no emotion.

I've never seen a guy that committed a murder that was so aloof about it.

Just about a minute later,

somebody yelled from the back of the courtyard,

"There's a guy been shot back here."

I saw Lennon laying face down on the floor

with his arms stretched out, looking like he was running.

I wasn't sure if he was still alive, so I turned his head slightly

to see if I could get a pulse. And I said,

"He's still alive but he's not gonna last much longer,

so let's get him the hell out of here."

WEISS: It was December 1980.

I'd left the newsroom where I'd produced the six o'clock news show.

And I had the misfortune of being taken to the hospital

about a half hour before John Lennon was brought in that night.

So we get into the emergency room and I'm on a gurney in the hallway

and someone sticks his head in and shouts inside

that they have a gunshot in the chest coming in.

They bring him into the room that I am lying right outside of

and two officers come out and one says to the other,

"Jesus, can you believe it? John Lennon."

And it was a pretty horrific scene.

He was stark naked. His chest was open,

and one of the doctors had his hands

inside Lennon's chest.

And there was blood all up and down his surgical scrubs.

I don't think I ever had as much of a grasp

on the professional definition of a dilemma as I had at that time.

Because I was two people.

I was a journalist. I've covered countless stories -

plane crashes, hurricanes, horrible fires, horrible shootings.

Really terrible, terrible events.

And as all journalists train themselves to do,

I was able to divorce myself.

I was a Beatles fan!

I was a Beatles fan from the time I was in middle school.

I'm still a Beatles fan.

And to have one of your heroes

to be so savagely and senselessly

and brutally murdered like that,

was horrific.

About a minute later, a woman's high-pitched voice screams,

"Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no."

Shortly after that, the door to the rear of the emergency room opens up

and there's Yoko Ono on the arm of David Geffen.

I got to the phone, I dialled the number.

I called local channel seven. I reported that John Lennon was dead.

I was in the dark room, developing the pictures I took that night,

when my doorman asked me

if I had a radio on or television. I said, "No."

And he said he'd heard that John Lennon had been shot.

And, you know, I didn't know what happened.

A friend of mine called me and he said, "What's going on?"

I said, "I don't know. What did you hear?" He said, "I just heard on TV that John Lennon is dead."

That's about the most permanent thing I ever heard.

And I started trying to think of how I could fix that,

how I could take care of it, how I could make it better. But you can't.

We left the hospital

and we decided to stop by the Dakota and see what was going on.

And when we got there there was a thousand people in the street

playing music and candles.

That was something to see.

WEISS: The city was shocked.

It transcended age groups.

It transcended everything. It transcended ethnicity, religion, background.

It was as if an emotional neutron bomb went off in New York City.

The heart seemed to be out of them for a little while.

There was just this stare.

Just pure shock. And sadness. Incredible sadness.

The '70s were so dark...

..that there was this feeling of optimism

and I think there was a step back.

People started to question whether or not we really were on this upswing.

MAN: My objective as an assistant district attorney

is to see that justice is done.

It was evident from the very start

that the defendant intended to lodge an insanity defence.

In an insanity defence case,

it's critically important to learn everything that can be learned

about the defendant.

It's also critically important that the defendant be examined

by psychiatric and psychological experts.

And so we conducted a very, very thorough investigation.

It was clear to me that the defendant was not normal.

Normal people do not commit murders.

It was also very clear to me

that he was not entitled to the insanity defence under New York law.

And based upon that standard and the results of all of the interviews

and the psychiatric examinations,

I formed the conclusion and we put forward on behalf of the people

of the state of New York in court,

that the defendant was not entitled to an insanity defence plea.

And on the day that the case was to start trial,

the defence attorney came in and announced

that his client was gonna plead guilty.

The defendant was sentenced to a term of 20 years to life in prison.

Most of that time was served at Attica.

NEWSCASTER: Mark David Chapman claims he switched his plea

from innocent to guilty in the killing of former Beatle John Lennon

and by dropping that defence... (OVERLAPPING NEWS REPORTS)

NEWSCASTER: Chapman's wife, Gloria, says she loves and can forgive her husband

if he did murder John Lennon...

HOGREFE: It was my determination, based upon the investigation,

that it was clearly the motive that this individual had

was to bring attention to himself.

It was the determination of the psychiatrists and psychologists

that the defendant suffered from a personality disorder.

He was a narcissist.

He would do things to draw attention to himself.

Put this in context.

This is a 25-year-old individual

who had never really accomplished what he thought was necessary

to bring attention to himself.

And it was John Lennon who became the target of these efforts.

He had confided to psychiatrists

that he had other potential candidates on his so-called hit list.

John Lennon, apparently, was at the top of the list

and was the person that he was able to get to more readily than others.

He wanted to kill a famous person to bring attention to himself, a very...

a very unsettling motive in a crime like this.

Stories about the John Lennon murder

and Mark David Chapman lead the evening news.

It was such a shocking act as he calculated it to be,

that everyone everywhere was stunned.

As he himself said, "I didn't change the world,

but I stopped it for three days."

(RINGING TONE ON TAPE RECORDING)

CHAPMAN:

GLORIA:

CHAPMAN:

(WHISPERS)

As a newspaper journalist,

you don't always get to cover big stories like the John Lennon murder.

Day to day, you're covering drunk-driving accidents

or kids running off the road or people's children drowning.

And I had to do a lot of that sort of death-knock work.

I always felt a great deal of empathy with the families

when I had to talk with them.

And in times, shared my own experience with them.

It has made me a great deal more aware

of how fragile we humans are.

Mark was confined in protective custody at Attica prison

from late 1981 until around 2012,

when he was transferred to Wende.

I interviewed Mark in Attica prison for the book.

I have interviewed a number of people in prison

who are extremely narcissistic human beings

and, in many cases, struggle to show remorse

and to apologise for the awful things they did.

And they really try.

I think I've seen nobody try harder than Mark Chapman has tried.

But there's something that's just not making connection there.

It's still all about them and their self-image.

CHAPMAN: You know, perhaps it boils down to this in a nutshell.

I had no responsibility of my own

and it was cowardice that kept me from facing my problems.

And there was a time where I went through a period

where I got a lot closer to God and became really responsible.

By the time I was sentenced, I had gone back to The Catcher In The Rye,

you know, that little world there.

Empathy is something you either have or you don't.

I think people who have empathy...

..they're the angels unaware.

I feel about Mark David Chapman the way I feel about any murderer.

It's equal justice for all.

Virtually every prisoner in New York State

who has committed that act against an anonymous victim

has been released on good behaviour after 15 years.

Mark has spent almost three times that long.

No matter whether a person is in prison or a famous politician,

I feel a sense of responsibility

to stay in touch with people,

particularly someone that I spent as much time with like Mark.

I wasn't comfortable thinking, "The book is done,

I can close that chapter, I can reject his phone calls."

There's a human on the other side of that voice

who trusted me to do something pretty important.

(PHONE RINGS)

(RINGING CONTINUES)

CHAPMAN: Hey, Jack. Hi, Mark. Very timely call.

Yeah.Yes. I tried to get in,

but they aren't allowing visitors at this point.

OK. I need to say this

and delicately as I can.

When I made this horrible decision,

that decision was just a pure evil decision.

There are no excuses.

This was a completely evil deed.

That's all it was about.

This tremendous need for glory

that doesn't go any lower than that.

There's no other explanation. I can finally say it now.

It's really, really true.

I hope you never get to a place

where all you seek is your own self glory.

What a horrible, horrible thing to do.

I cannot believe I did that.

OK, I gotta go. I gotta call Gloria.

OK. Thank you again.

Take care.Yeah. See you. Bye-bye. Bye.

(LINE CLICKS)RECORDED VOICE: The caller has hung up.

(SIGHS)

I think Mark regrets the murder of John Lennon

as much as a pathologically narcissistic person

can regret any act.

But just how deep he can feel that has always been a question.

WOMACK: The fallout from what would happen that night

resounds into this moment.

Anyone who loves human beings,

much less the Beatles, felt an acute pain.

(GUITAR STRUMS) JONES: # New York, New York

# December 8th

# Near midnight

# Outside Dakota's gate

# A man who couldn't pull his weight

# Raised on religion and fear and hate

# A man whose name shall not be spoken

# Since a child that man's been broken

# A creature of his own invention

# No need for love

# He craves attention

# But when you play the Devil's game, you lose

# I'm sorry, John

# I'm sorry, John # I'm sorry, John

# I'm sorry, John # I'm sorry, John

# I'm sorry, John # I'm sorry, John #

WOMACK: It's a sense of loss that's experienced every day since

because every day thousands of kids discover the Beatles.

And it is happening to people right now.

Right in this second in which you're watching this,

people are discovering the Beatles.

And there will always be that moment...

..when that kid discovers that John Lennon was cut down

in a hail of bullets on December 8th 1980.

And she will experience that pain, possibly more acutely,

because for her, it's immediate and it's new.

And just as it was for us, it's ineffable.

There's no coming back.

And there's no unknowing it.

It's a moment of resounding interminable loss.

MAN:

Wow. That is a prickly question.

No, he is not worthy of being paroled.

This man should never be released from prison, in my opinion.

You can't err on the side of Chapman,

you've gotta err on the side of Lennon's family.

We all know what it looks like when someone is truly...sorry

and if we're not seeing that from him, he shouldn't be paroled.

INTERVIEWER: What do you mean by peace?

Just all its...all its aspects.

Peace of mind, peace in the street,

peace in your own home, peace throughout the world.

Really it means no violence

or violence that's channelled and doesn't hurt.

And so peace means that to me.

Don't hurt people.