29 Oasis
By Barbara Fiske
Hi-Desert Star
September 16, 1965
“If you don't mind pretending
you're my mother, I can get you into a news conference with the Beatles. They're
performing in San Diego tonight.” The invitation to be her mother was given me
by my friend Martha Garvin of San Diego soon after I had checked into the hotel
for a vacation along the cooling Pacific Ocean. Ordinarily, my own HI-Desert Star press pass
would have sufficed, but it seems getting to a news conference with the Beatles
required security clearance almost as drastic as the one required to get into
the White House. At least so, I was
told.
There wasn't time, Martha explained, for so
much red tape. But her mother, editor and publisher of The California Senior
Citizen News wasn't going to use her pass, and so I could have it, if I would
pretend to be her Mother. Tired as I was after the trip, a news conference with
the Beatles would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience which could not be denied.
Within an hour, I met Martha, her
editor and photographer of the Senior Citizen News, and we were on our way. The
Beatles program which was being held at Balboa Stadium at the San Diego High
School.
The news conference was to precede
the program for which we also had press passes. The streets near the stadium were clogged with
cars and kids. Finally finding a place to park a half a mile away. We climbed
the steep hill by the school and discovered neighbors were hanging out of
windows and sitting on porches and along the sidewalk to watch the crowds go
by. “The people going to see the Beatles are odder looking than the Beatles
themselves,” one spectator informed us.
Policemen directed traffic, hawkers
sold Beatles pennants, Beatles buttons, Beatles cushions, Beatles programs. A
mass of teenagers converged on the area. Some were singing and some were waving
pennants.
We reached the high school building
where the conference was to be held and pushed our way through the crowd to the
head manager. After being thoroughly checked off a list, we were allowed to
climb over the chain to the door, and then, after further orders were given, we
were allowed inside the conference area.
A group of teenagers broke through the police
lines and ran into the conference room. Police came rushing after them. I heard
one remark as a policeman started pushing her out. “Okay, I'll go, but it was
at least a good try.”
About 30 of us, privileged persons, were
inside the area when the Beatles were brought in. The Beatles' very British
manager informed us that we had five minutes to take pictures, and then
questions would be in order. But order was not exactly the way to describe the
conference. Trying to take a picture involved pushing harder than the next guy
and punching yourself a spot with your elbows. Some photographers stood on the
chairs. I haven’t seen my pictures yet, but I can bet I got more rear views of reporters'
heads than I did of the Beatles.
And all this time, from the stadium outside,
there was a constant squealing. Squealing that rose and fell, but it was always
in the background, and singing, “We love you. Beatles, oh yes, we do” or something
like that.
The news conference didn't last too
long. It was hard to hear everything the Beatles said. Television cameras were
grinding. People were jumping up and down. Flashes were firing. John, I believe
it was did most of the talking. Ringo
displayed his rings.
I do remember someone asked the Beatles how
they felt about the decoration, or whatever it was that Queen Elizabeth
bestowed upon them. The reply was to the fact that they had thought they
deserved the honor just as much as some of the others to whom it had been
given.
They looked just like any other
male would look with long hair. And there were so many long hairs around in the
conference room that I was confused at first as to which ones were the Beatles.
After the conference, we made our way through
policemen and hundreds, it seemed, of Pinkerton men into the stadium. The
squealing was constant. I'd never heard the Beatles, and I didn't hear much of
them this time. The squealing never stopped, not even when the Beatles were
performing.
On television the next day, a psychiatrist
tried to explain the squealing by saying that teenagers had a culture of their
own, and part of their behavior was to revolt against the hypocrisies of adult
culture.
People asked me what I thought of the Beatles.
An expert I cannot pretend to be, but they seem during the news conference to
be very sensible and likable fellows who had a good thing going and knew it.
After all, it said they take in about $25,000 each performance. How many of us
would turn down a chance like that, even if it did call for a far-out hairdo?
Personally, I wouldn't have missed the experience of a news conference with The
Beatles, even if I had to be my own grandma.
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