“John was clearly sensitive about him. … He was younger than 3 years old when he lost him. … His loss surrounded him daily. Whether it was a plaque on some wall or a reference to the airport, John’s father’s legacy was omnipresent. And his absence was underlined. Though we never talked about his father’s assassination, it’s such a pervasive cultural reference that it seemed to come up all the time. He didn’t flinch. Contrary to stories I’ve read, I never saw John leave the room when the Rolling Stones song ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ was playing. Actually, if we were in the car or some other private place, he’d sing out, even yell, the lines. … He never looked at me when he did it. And he didn’t laugh. But sing he did. I think he took some sort of solace in the rock ‘n’ roll glorification – by his beloved Rolling Stones – of his dad.”
--Robert Littell, “The Men We Became”