Thursday, July 26, 2018

Looking Back I had a dream

I always love it when I can find the story of a photo taken by a fan.   So I was thrilled when I got the April/May/June 1972 issue of McCartney Ltd fanzine and found the following story, because I could match it with photos.   From the story, we know the photos were taken on August 19, 1970.   

However -- I want to put a warning before I post the photo.   I don't want you all commenting about how these girls stalked Paul and invaded his privacy.    Yes, they did invade his privacy by going to his farm.  However, Paul didn't seem to mind with them.    We have to look at these stories through the lens of 1970 and not 2018.    And we need to accept that this is what happened.    If you agree with it or not -- this is what happened.    Because I know these ladies are still active in the Paul McCartney fan world, I am going to put their initials instead of their full names.    Personally -- I love the guts the girls in the late 60's and early 70's had.   I dont know if I could have walked eight miles to see Paul at his farm.  



Looking Back I Had a Dream
By L.W.
Published in McCartney Ltd
April/May/June 1972

When K.M., J.F. and I set out for London in July 1970, we were all very doubtful that we would see Paul.  That is why we planned on seeing him … no matter what!  Here is our wild story about our encounter on meeting Paul on his farm in Campbelltown, Scotland.

We all set out for Scotland that cool Wednesday morning in London on August 18th.  You should have seen us – it looked like we hadn’t slept for weeks but there was hope and excitement in the air, so we carried on.

Arriving in Glasgow airport sent chills down my whole body!  However, I was not aware of the hours of traveling ahead of us.  There was a half hour ride to the bus terminal from the airport by taxi, plus a five and half hour ride by bus to Campbelltown itself.  A funny thing happened at the bus terminal thought.  There was a young ticket man at the counter and when we replied that we wanted to go to Campbelltown, he looked me straight in the eye and said, “Americans going all the way up to Campbelltown just to see Paul!!!”  My face flushed and I asked him how did he know.  He said that there were quite a few foreigners going up there for the same reason.  We also learned in amazement that the fare was 58 shillings and now we saw our spending money getting lower and lower.  We had a three-hour wait so we decided to tour the dingy seaport city of Glasgow.  Needless to say, I hated it but I was really surprised to see a Woolworth’s there in the heart of the town!  ( I wish I had more money, sweaters were so cheap).  Hours seemed like days but the bus finally left and we were on our way!


The scenery in the highlands is breath-taking, especially the purple mountains in the background overlooking the Lake Loughlomin (where the famous monster is).  We were really relieved when we finally got to our stop.  Speaking for others as well, we really couldn’t believe we were in the famous village of Campbelltown!  I had made reservations (from London) for our hotel (the Argyll hotel) but having only 63.10 each left to our names we couldn’t afford to stay there two nights as we had planned.  Being very tired and weary after our long trip, we tried to look for a vacant room in the area before checking our hotel.  We went to this particular one and was told they were all filled up but we could come back the next day and she would have a room for us then.    She asked us if we wanted to stay in her living room but we were afraid that we would be intruding too much.  We walked over a few blocks where the hotel was and signed in (everyone kept looking at us like they knew why we’re here).  At this point, K and I got a little giddy and acting stupid.  I guess Paul get to us that way.  Anyway, we got to bed early that night for the big day ahead of us.  A rooster woke me up the next morning so we got up and headed towards the main dining room.  We were the first ones there.  We were starved and the food was atrocious so we grabbed some rolls and bread from surrounding tables and stuffed them in our bags.  It was then that we went back upstairs, packed our things and checked over.  We went over to Kathy’s room and still didn’t know which way to go to Paul’s farm.  It was about 9 a.m. now and Kathy was surprised to see us so early.  As soon as we put our things down, we asked Mr. Ashley the direction to Paul’s farm.  He gave us a map and told us (warned us) that it was a long walk (close to 8 miles) but we didn’t care.  It was then that I was about to chicken out but thanks to K’s reassurance we started walking up and down the big hills.

 After about 2 hours of walking, we spotted a farm from a distance that looked like Paul’s (from the photos) but we learned from the workers that “High Park Farm” was another two-hour walk!  It was now about 12:30 and we finally came to this fork in the road Mr. Ashley had mentioned.  The three of us didn’t like the looks of those cows.  It was the strangest thing I ever saw – al the cows were literally staring at us.  There were two men working form a distance and they waved to us as if to say “come on, Paul’s farm is this way.”  I was shaking all over with nerves.  So many things kept on passing through my mind like what Paul would do seeing us “invading” his privacy.  We then hit “Low Park Farm.”  Paul’s neighbors are the MacDougalls.   We heard lots of strange things from kids in London about him.  Upon walking up to his farm, MacDougall greeted us with a shotgun in his hand.  Talk about being scared.  We were literally on the verge of a nervous breakdown at this point.  MacDougall was drunk and dirty and alongside of him was his dingy wife.  We greeted them with a “hello there” and he looked at the lot of us in a “pirate” manner and asked us what we were doing up there.  We tried to explain that we wanted to give these presents to Paul.  We were rudely interrupted by his heavy Scottish brogue saying, “Aye, that’s what they all say…”  I was getting a bit annoyed now because our hearts were to see Paul not have a chat with a drunken farmer.  After answering a few questions he finally let us go and we were now entering Paul’s land! 

 At this point, we were afraid of our shadows, never mind the sheep.  We were all silent now.  I suppose they were all thinking back on the first time they saw Paul.  It was my second time now.  We finally hit the top of the hill and saw HIS farm below us.  I was really surprised to see it.  How in the world Paul could live in such a run-down place such as that one.  When we hit the gate that said,  “Keep Gate Closed” we were all wondering if we should go up to the house and knock?  Thinking back now, I laugh at what we must have looked like.  We must have looked like the cowardly lion, the Tin Man and the Scarecrow walking down the yellow brick road to see the Great Wizard of Oz!  Our heads at a downcast, we walked to the house.  I was the one that was greeted by a pair of muddy boots near the house.  THERE WAS PAUL!  I swear, I wouldn’t have ever recognized him if it weren’t for those eyes of his.  I greeted him with a very soft, “Hello Paul” and he said hello to us and before we could say anything else he told us (very nicely mind you) “..you know I don’t like anyone coming up here!”  I explained (at this point it looked like I would be the spokesman for the group) to Paul, “Paul we’re very sorry,  but we just had to see you before we left for the States.”  Paul then asked us, “Where are you from then?”  We all chanted in flat unison “New York.”  Paul gave us a half smile and then I broke in and said, “Oh here Paul (giving him the presents) there are for you.  We were going to buy Linda some flowers, but we are dead broke.”  It was then I got my good look at him.  His hair cut short, he had a 5’clock shadow (needed a shave badly), he had on a blue flannel shirt, with a pullover red sleeveless sweater, very baggy trousers tucked inside these big boots of his.  But we still love Paul all the same. 

 The conversation shifted over to Martha when she made her grand appearance.  She decided that I was her first target and jumped right on me.  Now I had a skirt on and that is the worst thing to wear when going up to a farm.  Paul kept staring at my legs – not that I’m any Liz Taylor but it was embarrassing.  Then Martha wanted to be friendly with K and tried to jump on her.  K ran around J (J who stood there in amazement) and I whispered to K (what seemed like a whisper) “K don’t be afraid!”  Paul replied, “She’s (Martha) not afraid of you!”  I smiled at Paul and he in return stared at me.  That was then that our attention for a minute was drawn to the house at the side.  Linda appeared.  I was worried that she would start shouting and yelling at us.  Paul turned to her, nodded his head to her to signal to her to go in the house and said, “It’s alright!”  He then turned to us and gave us another one of his famous half smiles.  It was then J asked if Mary was in the house.  Paul gave J a simple “Yes” answer.  When J asked if we could see her, he gave a simple “no”  (He wasn’t nasty –still nice).  K asked then if he was going back to London.  Strangely, Paul asked us, “Have you been around the house?”  I don’t know how that ended but I was glad it did.  I then asked Paul if he was still writing.  Paul looked at me a bit mixed up and J said, “Paul, you know … writing!”  Paul looked at me in a “sexy” way and said, “I’m always writing.”  We were running out of things to say so remembering what K said before we saw him.  I said, “Paul would you mind if we take a picture? Paul replied “just one”.  J asked if Linda could get in the picture also and Paul replied: “I’m not posing.”  So we all clicked at the same time.  I practically banged my camera in my face  I was so damn nervous. 




 Unfortunately, we ran out of things to say (really what could we talk about especially after that court mess with Apple?).  We were all looking at each other and Paul said in a long paul between each of the last words.  “Well…cheerio.”  I wanted so bad to go up to him and hug him, and I wanted to tell him how much I loved him.  Of course, I couldn’t.  As we walked up his muddy path, we wanted to turn around and wave but we were still so nervous so we didn’t.  Paul’s workers drove us down to the village.  I can’t describe how I love him, maybe that’s what they call love….

3 comments:

  1. These stories are interesting, but I'm amazed that anyone would want them published in 2018. No wonder you only use initials, but that's your decision, right? I bet the ladies who are active in the fan world don't even have the self-awareness to care.

    You've stated that you don't want comments about how Paul was stalked or his privacy invaded, so I won't say anymore about that. I am curious however about how old these girls were. Where did they get the money to go traipsing halfway across the world (and not once but several times) for months on end, and where the hell were their parents?

    I'm assuming their parents were extremely rich because no one I knew in the 1970's could afford to live this kind of lifestyle.

    Lucky for them that this guy had some decency or they they might not have found themselves driven back to the village by his workers, and they'd probably all be lining up to sue him right now.

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  2. Great story ......never saw those photos before either. It was a different world back then for sure

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  3. "you know I don't like anyone coming up here"- EVERYONE knew that at the time in NY and UK

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