Elvis for me. I was 8. My aunt was getting a messy divorce and had come to live with us with my 2 cousins. It was the hot summer of 1977, and my Mum and Aunt were sat in the back garden having a morning coffee on the patio when the newspaper arrived with the headline. I didn't know who he was, only that if he had the whole front page of my Dad's Telegraph he was someone important so as I walked out of the back door I asked Mum and Auntie 'Who's Elvis Presley?'
'He's a singer – why?'
'Because he's dead'
I recount the full story, because it's not even really the news I remember so much as the look on both their faces, which I'll never forget.