Wednesday, January 15, 2025

Another Beatles Encounter


 

Another Beatles Encounter

By Patricia Crawford 

The Palm Beach Post

August 15, 1999


    When my friend Janet and I were in the eighth grade, we were hopelessly and completely committed Beatlemaniacs. Janet's favorite Beatle was Paul, and mine was John. 

    We were heartbroken to learn the Beatles were coming to Pittsburgh, but we wouldn't be there to see them. My parents were very concerned about crowds and safety. 

    The day of the concert, I passed Janet in the hall at school, and she told me we were going. Her mother worked a miracle, or knew the right people to talk to, and got us tickets. She persuaded my parents to let me go.

     Our seats were in the back of the stage, but the stage was open, and we had a clear view. Then it started. Talk about bedlam! I knew the Beatles were playing music. I could see them singing and playing their instruments, but all I could hear was the roar from the crowd. There were so many flash bulbs going off that The Beatles looked like they were performing under a giant strobe light.

     Being small, I was having trouble seeing over everyone jumping up and down. I noticed a lighting scaffold behind me, and the tomboy in me came out.  Skirt, heels, and all, I climbed the lighting scaffold that took me up about 15 feet. I was thrilled at the view. A few others noticed me and climbed up as well.

     Then it happened. John turned around toward where we were, saw us on the scaffold, put his hands up above his eyes to indicate he was looking at us, and gave us a huge side-to-side wave. Well we were all so incredibly excited.  We waved back and screamed our little hearts out and knocked down the lighting. Luckily, no one was hurt, and the concert went on. No one noticed the big crash because of all the noise.

     At the concert's end, Jan and I went to the main floor and collected mementos. I did have a photo of us in the midst of the sea of faces and a ticket stub, but over the years, they've all disappeared or buried in some forgotten box of memories. 

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