Adventures of a 1st generation fan (part 3)

Well I finally found it!   After 5 years I now have all 5 parts of Sue Bujnousky's stories of being around the Beatles in the late 1960's.    Here is part 3, which was the last part I needed.   It came from the Spring 1990 (issue #54) of Good Day Sunshine magazine.

Adventures of a first generation fan

Part 3 (1968)

By Sue Bujnousky

During our last week in England in July of 1968, we spent almost all of our free time either at Paul’s house, Abbey road or the Apple Building on Savile Road.  A few incidents stand out.

Waiting outside Paul’s house with the usual crowd of girls (it’s funny, but now that I think of it, I don’t remember ever seeing any guys there), we could hear Paul’s Aston Martin coming out of the garage while Rosie, his housekeeper, came and opened the gates.  We all crowded around, and Paul opened the window to talk to us.  One of the girls gave him two roses.  He put one behind his ear, the other between his teeth and drove off toward the studio; waving out the window for us to follow.  It was like a scene out of “a Hard Day’s night”, all of us running after the car, screaming.  This is not the easiest thing to do when you’re wearing high heels and a mini-skirt!  I don’t know how his neighbors put up with this.  They must have been very patient people.

The first time I saw George, John, Paul and Yoko had “come together” to the studio in John’s white rolls, Ringo arrived in a small, non-descript car.  I can still remember the feeling.  I was finally going to see George face-to-face.  Someone said, “Here’s George” as a cream colored Mercedes (License Plate No. OLA 600E) came around the corner and pulled into the parking lot in front of the studio.  I ran into the front gate, camera ready.  George got out, wearing a ruffled white shirt and the brightest green pants I have ever seen.  I tried to get around the car but the guard (I think his name was James, we got to know him pretty well) very politely “escorted” me back to the sidewalk, I was frantic.  George was already up the stairs.  I started screaming, “George turn around!”  No luck (This probably looked rather strange, since I was the only one in the crowd yelling, jumping up and down and pounding on the studio fence).  Finally out of sheer frustration I yelled, “You creep!”  (Isn't that wonderful?)  Well, he stopped, turned around laughed and waved at me.  I took a picture, but my hands were shaking so badly by then that it didn't come out very well.

A couple of days before we left England, Yellow Submarine premiered.  Of course we couldn't go to opening night, but we were there the second night.  After seeing them all arrive at the studio, a group of us decided to see if we could get in.  We must have gotten the last few tickets, since we ended up in the third or fourth row – talk about a stiff neck.  It was quite an experience, though, having just talked to them and then watching them on the screen at the end of the film – talk about “cloud nine!”

We left England and came home via Geneva.  I don’t think the full reality hit us until we had been back a few weeks.  Our parents, who hadn't sounded too thrilled with what we had been doing when we called home (not enough culture—why didn't we go to a museum or art gallery?) were telling all their friends that their daughters were “hanging around” all day with the Beatles!