I Buried Paul "You were in a car crash" Wednesday Morning, November 9, 1966 Toronto, Canada 9:00 am "William? William? Where are you." He yelled from his bed in his bedroom. "Ma, you know where I am." "You still in bed, boy?" "Yes, Ma." "Don't you got to get up and go to work?" "No, Ma. I don't go to work until four in the afternoon." "Well, William Shears Campbell, if you want breakfast you got to get up and get it now." He sighed, "Yes, ma." He got up. He wasn't going to go back to sleep anyway. That was a nice dream he'd been having. The contest he'd won last spring got him a record contract and he was making them instead of selling them in a department of Toronto's downtown Hudson's Bay. If only. But you need a little luck to make it. Talent wasn't enough and wining a Paul McCartney look alike contest didn't seem to be enough of the right kind of luck. Well, since he was up, he could play the piano after breakfast. Ma would like that. Nine Hours Earlier London, England 5:00 am A squeal of tires braking. The smashing of metal against metal. The crash of windows breaking. Blood. A hubcap rolled down the street. No one was there- it was too early. The man who'd just died wasn't up early, he was up late. Too late. When the police arrived the first one on the scene said, "Oh my god, he's dead."