Photo taken by Silvia Purbs |
Monday, April 30, 2012
I love this fan's room!
Once I get that time-machine I have been wanting, I think I will make sure to go and hang out with this girl.
Paul in New Orleans 1975 (part 1)
Here is a story of when a fan Gina Fontana huge around the studio where Paul and the rest of Wings were recording in New Orleans in January and February 1975. This story appeared in the July 1977 issue of "With a little help from my friends."
Paul and his troops arrived in New Orleans on January 16, 1975,
at New Orleans International Airport.
During their stay here, they rented the whole second floor of a small
hotel in the French Quarter called the Le Richelieu. They also rented a white Delta 98 convertible
and a three speed bike for Heather.
The reason I knew Paul was coming to town was because of a
small article in the afternoon paper. It
said Paul was coming to record an album at the Sea-Saint Studio which is owned
by Allan Tousaint and Marshall Seahorn.
They were to stay in New Orleans for a little more than a month. When I read the afternoon paper that day I
almost had a heart attack. The article
even gave the address of the studio. The
first thing I did was to find out where the studio was. It turned out that the place wasn’t even a
mile from my house! I was so happy words
can’t ‘explain. I mean, I‘d been in love
with the man for so long and now he was coming to my town. For a whole month and he wasn’t even gonna be
a whole mile away! Wilds horses couldn’t
keep me away from there.
In the article, it said Paul would get here the following
Monday, but that Friday there was another small article that said the group would
be delayed and there was not further notice of their arrival. I waited until Wednesday to return to the
studio. When I got there, there was a
small group of people outside. I decided
to get out and find out what was going on.
The news was that Paul had arrived in town the night before and he might
come over to t studio to check things out.
Needless to say, I was very excited. All of the guys who worked at the studio were
laughing at me. I’m sure they thought I
was ready to be taken to the funny farm.
Anyway, about an hour later we saw this big white limousine coming down
the street. I kept saying to myself, “this
is it. I’m really gonna get to see him.” When the car stopped everyone moved closer to
it, but there was no Paul inside. I
wanted to scream – it was just the driver delivering a check. He told us Paul was too tired to come. That was one of the biggest let-downs of my
life.
The next day I went only to find out that they still hadn’t
come in. I waited a few days and went
back again. There was no one standing outside,
so I just went and knocked on the door.
I had my scrapbook and some flowers for Paul and Linda. A woman answered the door and said that Paul
had already arrived and he was very busy.
I gave her the flowers and scrapbook and she assured me Paul would
receive my flowers and she’d ask him to sign my scrapbook if he had time.
Later that night, one of my friends and I drove by to see if
there was anything going on. There were
a few people standing around outside. I
recognized a couple of the people who were there the first night. We stopped and asked what was going on. They told us that Linda kept coming out but
Pal was too busy. I had written Paul a
note earlier that day and I decided to try and get it to him. I knocked on the door and the woman from
earlier that day answered. I asked her
if she’d get the note to Paul for me. Someone
in the background kept asking, “What is it.”
The lady opened the door wider and there was Linda. She was sitting on top of a desk swinging her
legs. All I could think to say was, “You’re
Linda.” She just sat there and said, “Yep.” Then she asked again, “what is it” and I told
her it was just a joke for Paul. Then
the woman told me I’d have to go back outside, but I could maybe see Paul the
next day between 2 and 4 because that was when he usually arrived. The next day I went back, determined I was
gonna see him even if I had to wait there all day long. I got to the studio about 12:30. There wasn’t anyone waiting outside except
for my friend and me. I went inside the
office to get my scrapbook from Mary (that was the woman who answered the
door). My scrapbook wasn’t signed but she said Paul did get my flowers. He had them on top of the piano the whole
night and when they left Linda took them with her.
About 1:30 people started coming, mostly people from the
very first night. We all just sat around
and waited. There were a lot of new
friendships developed that day. It was
like a mini-Beatles convention. Everyone
sat around comparing what they knew and what their favorite song was and what their
favorite album, etc. – it was really fun.
By 2:30 there was still no sign of Paul.
Around 3:00 a car with Denny, Jimmy and Allan Crowder drove up. They stayed outside and signed autographs and
posed for photos. Denny told me Paul
should be along any minute. Everyone
stood with their cameras ready. We
waited and waited and waited but there was still no show of Paul. Excitement was everywhere. It seemed like I’d been waiting in front of
that studio for a year. At 4:05 Paul’s
car came driving about 90 mph down the street!
By this time all the schools had let out and there were about 50 people waiting
to see him. He drove up and everyone ran
to his car. It was like 1964 all over
again. I was right against the door of
his car. Everyone was wild – they were
pushing and shoving and Paul kept trying to get out but the crowd wouldn’t let
him. He kept pushing on the door. (The window was hitting me smack in the face every
time he tried to get out). I could see
him perfectly. He looked scared to
death. HE finally got out of the car
with one big push. Then the crowd pushed
even more when they saw that he was out of the car. I got pushed right on top of him. His first reaction as to scream (Right in my
ear. He sure does have a big
mouth). He screamed, “Get out of here,
what is this!” I almost started
crying. I felt like he was only yelling
at me. I was in tears telling him that I
was really sorry but it wasn’t my faulty.
He must have realized what he’d done because he looked at me with the
most understanding face in the world. He
said, “I wasn’t just yelling at you. It’s
really all right.” The crowd started to move
back and Paul started making his way through.
I held on to him almost the whole time.
I asked him if he got my flowers and he said, “Yeah, thanks doll, they
were beautiful.” I then asked him if he
got my note and he said, “That was you?” and I told him yes. By this time we were in front of the door and
the next minute he was gone. I can’t
explain how I felt when I saw him that first time. I had actually seen him, touched him, and
talked to him. It was really a dream
come true. Everything had happened so
fast. He was there one minute and gone
the next. I’d seen Paul a thousand time
s in my mind but he’d never looked this good.
He was wearing a blue pinned striped suit with a purple “band on the run”
t-shirt (The man really matches clothes well.)
His hair was super greasy but he still looked great. I found out later on why Paul was so mad
when he drove up. The reason he was so
late was because he dropped Linda off at a drugstore to buy some film. She was gonna take a taxi when she was
finished. The drugstore is only about 3
blocks away from the studio but Paul got lost and he drove around for 45
minutes before he stopped to get directions.
Later that night I returned at about 10:30. There weren’t many waiting outside. I had to see him again. Once is not enough. Around 11:30 or 12:00 Paul and Linda came out
to say hello. There were only about 12
of us waiting to see him. It was a lot
different than earlier that day. Paul
was so at ease with everyone. He didn’t
rush things at all. He signed autographs
and posed for pictures. He was so
nice. He kept making all these cute
faces. I wanted to grab him. He had the McCartney charm on full
blast. Linda loved it too because there were
these two guys who kept talking to her and taking pictures of her. She was really nice. (This didn’t last long. Other days she was really mean. Sometimes I think she went out of her way to
be nasty to all the girls waiting to see Paul).
They stayed outside for about 20 minutes and then went back in to work
some more. It started raining at about 1:00. By 3:30 it was still raining. There were only six of us left. We were all getting wet and it was
freezing. I knew if I left they’d come
out five minutes later and sure enough, that’s what happened.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Magical Mystery and Talisman
I just got a new computer. It is a touchscreen All-in-one and I am trying to figure it all out. So I hope this blog doesn't seem like too much of a mess, because everything here on my end looks extremely different than it did on my old computer.
Anyhow, I am going through my old files and I found this photo of John from 1967. I don't recall having this photo before. Two fans appear behind him. He is wearing the "Magical Mystery tour" coat of many colors jacket and his Talisman necklace. What is that book in his hand? Anyone know when or where this photo was taken? From the information I gather from clicking on it, it appears that I got this photo from an eBay auction in June of 2006.
Forest Hills concert
I always wondered who this George Harrison fan was who got on stage during the NYC Forest Hills Concert in 1964.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Meeting John in Boston in 1976
This story is from a fan named John Nucci who is from Boston, Mass. He met John and Yoko (and baby Sean) when they were visiting Boston mid-September 1976. His story and photos appeared in the October/November issue of "The Write Thing."
The Boston Globe (9/16/76) had a 1 paragraph bit about a “Beatle
in Boston”. It stated that John Lennon
had come to town for 3 days to visit some friends in Brookline (a nearby
suburb) and was staying at the Coply Plaza Hotel. I called the Coply immediately, though I knew
it wouldn’t do any good, and sure enough, they denied it and said that the
Globe had received a false report. They
said a “Mr. Lennon never even checked in at the hotel.” Sure, sure!
I called up a friend of mine and over we went. (I live in East Boston so the Coply Plaza in
downtown Boston is only about 5 minutes away).
Of course the people at the front desk denied it again, however they
underestimated my deviousness. When the
desk clerk turned his back, I flipped his check-in book to the day before and
borrowed the check-in slips. Out the
door I went to examine them and lo and behold, a Lennen (with an e), John, had
checked into a suite and adjoining rooms went to Miss Nishizaka (the nanny) and
Mr. Nishe (assistant).
Now e had to find which suite it was (The Coply has 6 floors
with 5 suites on each). Through process
of elimination we found his suite on the 6th floor (according to a
chambermaid who saw “A Chinese lady” go into it). And so we waited. We waited about 20 minutes and since it was
mid-day, we figured he was out and decided to come back. We walked to the elevator and (I know this
sound unbelievable) but out came John and Yoko, the nanny and baby Sean.
I said hello and John responded. We walked together back to the suite and John
seemed very concerned about how we had found out they were there. When I mentioned that it was in the Boston
Globe, boy did you ever see a Beatle get mad!
“Oh bullshit, Jesus Christ!” And other such gems came from him.
At this point we got to the room and John was so angry he
didn’t even say goodbye, just opened the door and went in still cursing. Yoko turned to us before going in and said, “Please
don’t tell anyone you saw us love.” I
promised we wouldn’t (until they had left Boston of course.)
All I could think of after leaving was that we didn’t have
any pictures or autographs, so I decided to go back the next day.
On the next day I came prepared with camera, a “Save Lennon”
button and the cover of The Write Thing with John’s picture and “We Won.”
We waited about 30 minutes this time (it was around noon)
and while we waited my friend and I were drinking beer and eating lunch right
outside their room! I was annoyed at how
nobody was there beside us, either upstairs or downstairs in the main
lobby. Everybody probably believed the
Copley’s denials. (And then I found out
later that it came over the radio that a “false rumor had started that John
Lennon was in Boston.” Sure!)
Anyway John and Yoko came out with John carrying Sean and
was surprised to see us. I said, “I told
you we wouldn’t tell anybody, didn’t I?”
And John said, “Yeah, thanks.
Nobody has really bothered us.”
Then he added, “I do have a life you know.” Before I could feel bad about that last
remark, John noticed my pen and cover of the newsletter and said, “Do you want
me to sign that?” I said yes and he did
without even noticing the “We won” until I showed it to him. “Hey, great thanks a lot,” he said when I
gave him the “Save Lennon” button. My
friend asked if we could take some pictures and John said, “Sure, let’s be
doing it instead of talking about it.” (Yoko was busing chasing down a
chambermaid to open the door again because she had left the bathroom window
open.) While snapping pictures I asked
John if we should expect a new album soon and he said sort of tongue in cheek, “No,
not soon. I’m putting some ‘heavy
thought into this one.’” My friend
grabbed a not-finished beer and took a few gulps and noticed John was watching
us. He asked if John would like one and
before he could answer, Yoko said, “No he doesn’t. Really thank you.” John said, “No thanks a lot.” John was really friendly and asked if we were
form Boston and said to my friend, “You look Irish.” (which de does)..”but you don’t” (which I
guess I don’t!)
We walked to the elevator together and went downstairs where
a young man (about 21) was waiting with a large portrait of John from the Sgt.
Pepper days. He gave it to him and he
said thanks. A beat-up old green station
wagon pulled up and John hopped in the front with the portrait and Yoko; the
nanny and Sean got in the back. Before
leaving, John rolled down the window and said to me and my friend, “Take it
easy, man and thanks for the hush.”
Smiled and waved. Goodbye John
and thanks for just being.
You know throughout the whole time I was chatting with him,
I did get the feeling that perhaps I was invading his privacy. John was a bit abrupt at first, but I will
say, when he realized just how much it meant to me to be in his presence he
became much more friendly and accommodating.
It’s weird, you feel a bit guilty about bothering him because you know
how much fan-following he has, but for true Beatle nuts like myself, a Beatle
in your hometown means you’ve got to get him into your life!
Guitar players
This is a photo that was posted on the official Paul McCartney web site. The fan photos in the timeline have some interesting things. This is a fan who met Paul in October of 1995.
Paul at the HMV Oxford Shop 1997
While promoting his album, Flaming Pie in 1997, Paul did something that any of the Beatles rare ever do. He signed autographs for fans who waited in a line to see him for a few brief moments for a handshake, signing and a photo. As you can see in these photos, Paul did not just smile for a photo and sign a record and scoot the fans along. He really seemed to take a few extra moments and talk to the fans.
Thursday October 16 12:57 PM EDT
McCartney Signs Autographs At London Record Shop
By Susan Cornwell
LONDON (Reuters) - To the screams of teenagers and of fans reliving their youth, Paul McCartney returned
Thursday to the shop where he got by with a little help from friends who clinched the first Beatles record deal 35
years ago.
"It's one of the places where they launched the first Beatle records. So I had to come back, didn't I?" McCartney
told the cheering crowd outside the HMV record shop in London's Oxford Street.
Like extras in a Beatles movie, the fans roared back their approval as office workers waved from a department
store across the street.
Then the throng poured into the record shop for what organizers said was McCartney's first album-signing in
Britain since 1963. But many went away disappointed.
Security guards said some 2,000 people were allowed into the cavernous store. But only about 250 could line
up in a special queue to buy McCartney's latest albums, "Flaming Pie" and the symphonic work "Standing
Stone," and have them autographed by the former Beatle.
"I came today at 10 a.m. for nothing," said Kasia Brylska, 30, who was nearly in tears when she realized she
was only in a "picture-taking," not a "signing" queue.
"I came here especially from Poland for this and for the concert two nights ago," she said, referring to the
premiere of McCartney's "Standing Stone" classical music symphony at London's Royal Albert Hall Tuesday. "It
is a lot of money. I am really disappointed."
For others, though, just seeing McCartney -- now Sir Paul McCartney since he was honored earlier this year by
Queen Elizabeth -- capped a lifetime of devoted Beatlemania.
"I was one of those screaming girls who went out to Heathrow airport when the Beatles arrived and left in the
1960s," said 44-year-old Lynne Moran of London.
"But I never got to see them in concert. My mum said I was too young. She didn't know about the airport," Moran
said with a giggle.
At the other end of the age spectrum, Deborah Fletcher, 18, said she had been waiting in line for six hours.
"I've been a fan since I was 13. I saw the film 'Help,' and I just wanted to find out more about them," she said.
McCartney came to sign autographs at HMV to pay back a favor from 1962, when Beatles manager Brian
Epstein asked for help from an old pal, Bob Boast, then the manager of the record store.
Boast set up a meeting with George Martin, who was then a staff producer for Parlophone records, and that led
to a contract with Parlophone, said Rob Partridge, spokesman for HMV.
"Standing Stone," was another first for McCartney -- his first solo classical music symphony -- and it opened to
mixed reviews from music critics earlier this week. But on the sidewalk outside HMV, the crowd thought it was
just great.
"You could play a lot of Beatles music on the violin," said Lynne Baines, 47, who had driven several hours from
Liverpool overnight with her husband and 18-year-old son to see McCartney. "I don't see a lot of difference,
really."
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Great comic strip!
I found this hidden away in a copy of "The Write Thing" from 1976. It made me laugh and I think it is still true today!
The 5th wheel
Here we have George, Pattie, Paul, Jane and Mal. There is an empty seat next to Pattie which must have been the seat that the person who took this photo was sitting. Is this an India photo? Anyone have any information about this photograph? It is a new one to me.
Letter to Vicky
Those Beatles were pretty serious about Saint Christopher Medals, weren't they? Paul wrote this letter but I do not think he signed all four autographs.
Abbey Road
so this photo was supposedly taken the exact same day as the now-famous album cover shoot of Abbey Road. Questions that I wonder include, who took this photo? Why did this person take the photo? And most importantly, do you see the big group of fans waiting over there outside of EMI Studio? Did they get to meet one or more of the Beatles?
Invited inside Friar Park
This is a story about when one lucky fan was allowed to meet George Harrison inside the gates at Friar Park. This story appeared in the July 1977 issue of "With a Little help from my Friends" fanzine. The thing is that this story is confusing. I think in part because it was written by someone who is not a native English speaker. But mostly because I think part of the story is missing! Does anyone have the June 1977 issue of this magazine and could check for me if the beginning of the story is there? I don't know how Renia got inside of the gates, but from what I infer in this story is that she was invited inside (by maybe George's Dad) and was showing him photos that Pat Simmons had taken of him during the Dark Horse tour. The fortunate fan (who left with not only George phone number but also a kiss) was Renia Frankowska from Poland.
Then I wanted a photo of George and Olivia, and I told them,
“and now both of you, please. I know you hate it, but please…”
“That’s all right, “said George. He embraced Olivia, they
both smiled and seemed ot be very happy together (lucky Olivia….)
As I said, I took out the photos from George’s tour, and was
giving him them, by turns. He seemed to
be very interested in them, as he never saw them before. Also Harold was looking at them.
George kneeled down now, and when he was watching the
photos, I took pictures of him. Oh, yes,
those photos where he kneels down and looks at something – they are these
photos! I was near George all the time,
but then I thought, why not move on, approach him a bit more? So I changed my place and squatted very near
him, so near that my arm could feel his shirt and arm. II don’t have to say how sweet and nice it
was for me! The nearness and the
presence of his person made me so very happy!
And while George occupied himself with the photos, I was looking at him.
I looked at his hands. Wonderful. His hands, with long slender fingers, have
always been the object of admiration for me and my friends in Poland. And I remember them “ordering” me to see his
hands carefully, if I meet him. Oh, please don’t laugh, but it’s true – I wanted
to see them, close to my eyes. Thank God
I had a very good pretext - George had a very nice ring on his left hand on the
last finger. It was, I think, the same
ring he has in the picture you sent me recently from “Hit Parader” magazine. You can hardly see it in my photos though.
So I took his left hand in mind and said, “Oh, what a
beautiful ring!”
“Yeah, it’s from India, eight carrots…” I hope he didn’t guess what I was really
doing – looking for an opportunity to see his hands..suddenly. George shouted (almost)( “Look!”
He pointed at someone in the photo, at the aum sign. It looked so sweet and funny that I had to
smile. “How many people did you have in
the group?” I asked him.
“Oh, I twas also as Indian group – there were about 15 people ... the group was too big…” he said, lost in
thoughts. And then he said, with big
enthusiasm and animation, pointing at Billy.
“It’s Billy Preston! Do you know –
did you hear about Billy Preston?”
“Of course, I did.”
“He’s fantastic on stage!
So full of energy!” He gestured
with his hands how full of energy Billy was.
“But you are full of energy too, aren’t you George?” I asked, but he said nothing. And then I said something – well, all the
girls think the same, but where did I have so much courage from? I said, looking at him, “Oh. You’ve got such long lashes..Some girls don’t
have as long lashes as you have…”
And I looked at him, scared of what I said, but George said
very quietly, “No…” shaking his head and cast his eyes down and smiled in a
special way.
In one of the concert photos he was photographed during his
talk with Ravi, and he looked at it and turned ot Harold. “Look, kids take pictures even at these
moments.”
“Kids? She’s not a
kid!” I said. “She’s 27!”
“Well, people.” Said George.
“She has seen you so many times…”
“What’s her name?” he
asked.
“Pat Simmons,” I said.
“Pat Simmons..yeah,” said George looking as if trying to
find the right person in his mind to this name.
“Yes. She’s also a
big fan of you. She has seen you many
times.”
“Yeah?” said George.
In one of the photos, he is standing with the acoustic guitar,
so I asked him, “It was during ‘My Sweet Lord’ or what?”
“yeah.”
“You’ve got many guitars, don’t you George?”
“Yes.”
“How much? Fifty?”
“Nooooo! (he was thinking for a few seconds) about twenty.”
“Oh that’s nice. You gave
one to Mary Hopkin. When I read it I was
not too pleased.”
“Yeah, because she wanted to play a guitar and didn’t have
enough money, so I bought a guitar for her.”
“Oh. You’re so good,
George!” I said. Next I had black and
white photos which I gave to him to see.
During that time Olivia had gone (only Harold was still standing near – unfortunately!),
but now she appeared again and said something to George, very quiet, point at
the door. So I got up quickly and said “Oh,
George, you’ve got to go….”
“No, that’s all right,” said George, stretching out his hand
for another photo. It was so nice of
him. “How many concerts did you do?” I
asked.
“About 45.” I
mentioned about his pirate flag, and George looked at it, trying to restrain a
smile and said “I don’t know who put it on, looks so stupid…” During that time Olivia came again and said
to George that this man, a manager or somebody important (in show biz) is still
waiting – don’t know what she said exactly, so I got up and said, “You’ve got to
go, George…” But he only showed by
gesture of his hand that I should squat again, and said, “Not, that’s all right. You came a long way, waited for so long.” And I think it was Harold who said, “You are
not just anybody else, you are on special privileges.” And smiled. Oh please don’t think that I’m presumptuous
and that was my invention, but he really said that! I was so surprised and so very happy of
course. Then George said, after Harold, “Yeah!”
I told George about my meeting with an Indian man a few days ago and about a
letter he advised me to write to him. I
also told him that this man wasn’t too pleasant. About the letter he said, “Oh, that’s not
necessary,” and smiled gently.
“It was Kumar Shankar, you know, Ravi Shankar’s relation,” I
said.
“Kumar. I don’t know
what is going on with him. You shouldn’t
care. He just doesn’t like when somebody
disturbs him,” said George. (When Harold
heard about my letter to George, he said, “So you’ll get it tomorrow,” and George
just laughed.)
Then I asked George, “Do you still practice yoga and
meditate?”
“Yes.”
“Every day?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“As long as I can.”
“Oh, George, thank you very much for all the books about
Krishna. Once, you took my letter to Los Angeles and went to Temple and asked
to send books for me. Thank you!”
“Oh, that’s all right.
Were they sent to you?” he asked.
“Yes! Thank you very
much!” And then I said, “I was receiving
letters from many people from Krishna movement – form Holland and West
Germany. They were asking me if I could
help them to open the Temple in Poland, but I don’t think it would be possible.”
“They were trying in Moscow too, you know, but no…” George
said.
Then I asked him, “Is it hard to meditate?”
“Yes, it’s quite hard.
Some people say it takes years before they could meditate.”
“Does it help for sadness or something like that?”
“Oh yes. And your
energy is going inside, not outside. You
know, everybody shows energy outside and it’s inside.” He said accenting some
words.
I said, “I would like to be able to meditate.”
“You should while you are in England. Look at the yellow part of the telephone
book,” he said pointing a finger at me.
“Yes, I will.” And
then George became serious and started to explain something to me, he was
translating something. He was very
involved in what he was saying, looking straight into my eyes and was
expressing everything by hands, used them a lot, and was talking and talking
and talking. But what was he talking
about? With a big shame, I have to say I
don’t really know because during that time I was looking at him and forget
about the whole world. I only remember that
I was nodding my head and smiling stupidly, but I wasn’t listening! George had ot notice this, as he sometimes
tried not to smile. Anyway, I’m sure he
was telling me about meditation, yoga and religion, about God and Krishna. And then, suddenly, somebody called on George
from the door. It was Olivia and she
wanted to remind George that this man was still waiting. So George looked at me with a sweet smile and
“I’m sorry” expression in his eyes and on his face, and said that he was very
sorry but now he really had to go. It
was almost 45 minutes that we were talking anyway! So I said, “Oh, George, I’ve got my school
for 6 days, all the weekend will be free, so could it be possible to see you
just for a few minutes?”
“Yeah all right,” he said.
“As I wouldn’t like to take your time, to disturb you.”
“Yeah Yeah.”
“So maybe I should write and ask if I could meet you, or you
could telephone me? Oh I don’t know where
you could telephone, I’ll not be staying at that woman’s, maybe I could just
telephone you?”
And you know what he said?!?!
“Yeah, ok!”
“So could you write me your number?”
“Yeah, of course,” he said.
And George took my ball-pen and my memoir book which he signed and wrote
his telephone number. I was so surprised
and happy, and I said, “Thank you very much.
I will not give it to anybody. I
promise!”
“Yeah. All right.
Yeah,” he said smiling. And then he
said, “I have to go. A businessman is
waiting for me, you know, I’m making a record,” and started to pick up all the presents
I brought for him.
“Oh George, thank you very much indeed. I’m sorry for disturbing you and taking your
time (I tried not to cry, as my voice started breaking down). George was standing looking at me, and I held
out my hand to shake his, and then I made a gesture as if I wanted to kiss him
on the cheek, and I wanted to ask him if I could, so I said, “can I? “ But I didn’t have time to finish, as George
guessed what I meant, and you know what he did?
He just said, “all right.” And put his hand at the back of my head, at
my hair, and kissed me on my right cheek.
Well, it was my chin, very near my mouth and then on my left cheek. It happened so quickly that I didn’t know
what was going on. I was so shocked and
so very happy. It was so sweet and great
and gentle. So it was George who kissed
me rather than I him. But of course, I
kissed both of his cheeks too. Kissing
him, I had to put my face in his beautiful hair. George smelled sweet of freshness and
cleanliness. Oh my God, it was really
wonderful.
I forgot to say that when George was giving me his telephone
number, Harold said that when there’s nobody else at home there’s a machine, a
sort of tape recorder, so you can leave a message and your telephone number, so
George would know who was phoning. And I
said, almost shouted, like a fool, “Oh, it’s like in films!”
You can’t imagine how George burst out laughing! And he said, pointing at me, “So you have a
capitalistic country!”
So, like I said
before, George started to withdraw and I said, “goodbye George.”
“Goodbye. God bless
you.”
Olivia hung out from the door and said, “Goodbye Renata.”
“Goodbye Olivia. God
bless you.”
“God bless you!” she said with a smile. And George started to go into his home. I didn’t cry.
I was too happy. And too shocked
to cry, but I could feel how terrible and said it was that it was over. I took the last photo when he was
disappearing but it seems it didn’t turn out.
I looked for a long time at George, at his home with the flying pirate
flag at Friar Park all in the brightness of golden sunset. It was 7:35pm.
And we started, Harold and I, to go back, through the grass,
shorting the way.
By that time, I turned my head a few times saying “Goodbye”
in my mind; and I was talking with Harold a bit. Especially we were talking about the girls
who wanted to see George and some to Henly to see him. Harold said that George wouldn’t mind to see and
meet all of them but he has not enough time to do it, or he couldn’t do
anything else but meet fans and answer letters.
I thanked Harold for such a big help. I really was very grateful! And we shook hands, said goodbye, and I
started to leave this paradise.
I went out through the gate.
It was open, of course. The last
look at Friar Park and I started to go down through a narrow street, near the
fire station, called West Street leading to Hart Street. I still wasn’t crying, I was too happy, too
shocked, still having George in front of my eyes. I think, I even was smiling to myself, and I
had to look very happy when I was going back.
I suddenly saw Harold again, along with his son. They were driving in their Rover car. They saw me and waved to me form the care and
I waved to them.
My dad said that he will be waiting for me upon the Thamas,
as it was very warm and sunny. On the
way to the river there is a small church, just near Red Lion Hotel, called I
think St. Mary. I went in to pray, to
thank God for all that happened. And
there, I burst into tears. Then I
started to look for my dad. He was going
by the river, opposite me. And I saw
him, I started to run and almost shouted to him, “Dad! I saw him!”
I saw him!”
“It can’t be!
Impossible!” he said.
“It’s true,” I said, and showed him a memoir book which
George signed, and photos he signed. And
when my dad saw them, his face brightened up.
He was so moved, started to hug me and kissed my hands and cheeks. People were looking at us, that crazy pair,
but we didn’t care! My dad took a few
photos of me to remember my happy face and we started to go back to our bus
stop to get back to London.
And this is how the most happy and the most beautiful day of
my life ended.
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