The sun is gently lifting over the trees, beaming through Tittenhurst’s east-facing windows and reflecting off John’s yellow-tinted glasses. Yoko sits close by while he presses the keys and begins to hum.

*  *  *

Late one foggy night in June, John summons session musicians to his mansion to work on his new album.

“I quickly jumped into a white Rolls-Royce with Nicky Hopkins [who’d played electric piano on the Beatles’ ‘Revolution’],” acoustic guitarist Ted Turner recalls.

Another guitarist, Rod Lynton, marvels at John’s fine collection of instruments, though he’s shocked to find that the strings on John’s Epiphone Casino are “crusty.”

“It’s a piece of wood with strings on it. You just play it, OK?” Lennon tells him.

*  *  *

A troubled American named Curt Claudio has been writing to John. In the midst of these sessions, Claudio shows up in person, wearing a shabby coat. A film crew on hand to record the making of Imagine documents his arrival.

In the entryway of Tittenhurst, John agrees to have a chat with the intruder. Claudio, who has matted, scraggly brown hair and has come all the way from California, claims to be a traumatized Vietnam vet in search of some kind of universal truth.

“I’m just a guy who writes songs,” John tells him. “I’m just a guy.”

“At Tittenhurst, there was no particular security,” Yoko recalls. “John always felt responsible for these people because they were the result of his songs.”

If he assaults me right now, there’s no stopping him.

*  *  *

On July 3, John and Yoko fly to New York. They’ve booked the Record Plant, on West 44th Street, for more sessions on July 4 and 5.

A reporter from The New Yorker tours the facility and pronounces its contemporary furnishings and state-of-the-art equipment as having “the air of a luxurious space capsule” that is “designed specifically for rock musicians.”

While Phil Spector mixes Imagine in quadraphonic sound, Yoko listens closely to the contrasting guitar work.

“George Harrison’s guitar playing was more classically beautiful,” she later observes. “But John’s was restless—beautiful restless stuff.”

*  *  *

Phil Spector is also helping George with another project.

George is taking up his guitar for a cause: the Concert for Bangladesh, with all proceeds going to a cause dear to Ravi Shankar. Shankar, George’s musical mentor, was born in India to a Bengali family and is dedicated to aiding victims suffering from the multiple assaults of cholera, child hunger, and the war against Bangladeshi independence.

George invites all three of his former bandmates to join the all-star roster for two concerts at Madison Square Garden—at 2:30 and 7:00 p.m. on August 1, 1971.

Only Ringo accepts.