Posted this in another thread, but thought it appropriate to share here as well:

I was yet to be born, but my father had the best story which was handed down to me rather fittingly. He was in a screening of the Yellow Submarine that night. It was a packed theater and he went alone, but when he came out, he got in his car, turned on the radio... and they were telling of the assassination. He said the entire parking lot stood still. No one moved their cars, they all just sat and silently listened. The first thing he did was he went out and grabbed the local newspaper when they printed it with the story. He brought it home and read the pages and pages they had on his life and the Beatles while he listened to this collection of their love songs he had. He slipped the newspaper in their for one reason or another. In 2008, I removed myself from his life. He's not a good man, but while I was moving out, he was also about to sell his house. He once cared greatly for music, but since he took up with his girlfriend, he pushed aside all rock music as garbage, and said I could take his record collection. I did so happily as a collector myself. After going through everything for a few months I found the gatefold of love songs. I didn't even notice the newspaper until I have halfway through side two of the first LP, but when I did I read every bit of the paper. It was the closest to living that night and knowing the importance he held to everyone in the two decades that proceeded his assassination. It was a truly poignant experience. I asked my mother about it one day because they were already a couple at that point. She had a glimmer of recognition and remembrance. I haven't seen that before or since, her reliving or telling of her youth in any way. It was even more astounding seeing his face when I showed him the paper. For a minute or two while he told me the story it was actually like seeing him from when he still had passions and humanity, back when the Beatles really were a massive influence on his life and beliefs before drugs, alcohol, and deceit became him. It was probably the most information I'll ever get about them or their lives together, and it was mostly a look in their faces. All because of a newspaper reminding them of a single night.