Prior to leaving for Africa...

August 29, 1973 -  Paul talks to the press about two members of Wings leaving the group.   This is also the day Barb Fenick met Paul.   It is one of my favorites! So click the link below if you haven't ever read it. 

http://www.meetthebeatlesforreal.com/2012/08/barb-at-cavendish-revisited.html
 

And in the end....

I have posted various parts of Barb Fenick's Beatles story from 1969 over the years.   I have located the last part in the July 1974 issue of The Write Thing.  

Photo taken by Barb Fenick 

Monday, August 11th (1969)  was our last day in London and Jeri, Sara and I resolved to try to help Paul get his stolen property back if we could.  Every time we'd ask someone in the know why Paul was so distant and unrelaxed with his fans this summer, they'd always say it was the robbery and now he didn't trust any of his fans.   So we concluded that if he knew who had done it and if he could get back at least most of his stuff then he wouldn't have to take it out on the rest of us.  Although we knew that it was more than just the robbery that had Paul so withdrawn, still our intentions seemed logical and we really wanted to help.  We knew that one guy was selling prints made from the thousands of slides stolen from the McCartney's collections (he was charging $1.20 - half a pound a piece too) and that he knew who the actual thieves were (although we had a very good idea ourselves).



We started out by taking the matter to Apple; the people there got all shook up and called Mal at EMI and told him to expect us.  I turned around to see Rich and Mo coming in and said hello to both of them.  They smiled in recognition and Mo said hello back.  Ringo's chauffer, Allen, said he'd drive us over to EMI if we could wait until he was through there.  But we thought our matter was so urgent that we had to hurry right over to EMI, probably afraid they'd change their minds about letting us inside (they never let fans in), so we turned down his offer and I've always regretted it.  That twice I missed the chance to pull up to EMI in Rich's white Mercedes!

Photo taken by "Richie" on August 11, 1969

Before I got on the subway I called Richie back at the hotel and told her to hurry down to Apple as fast as possible before Ringo left.  she made it too, breaking all speed records as she dashed out of the hotel, hair still wet, and told the cabbie to "step on it."   She got the most beautiful picture of rich for her efforts and had the chance to say goodbye to him, promising him she'd come back next year.


It really felt strange at EMI to go right through the gates and up the stairs without so much as a backward glance, telling the guard, "We have an appointment."  You can imagine what all the fans back at the gates thought about us just marching in like that.  Once inside, they had us wait in the lobby for about 20 minutes, right across from the recording studio that all four of the Beatles were in and we could even hear them recording.  That was so nerve-wracking because I kept hoping that Paul would come out.  the only one who saw us inside there was Geroge, he came up to Mal who was talking to us and started screaming at Mal to get some girls away from the side window.  Then he looked at us and glared.  As they say, if looks could kill...

Finally, we talked the matter over, with Mal who pocketed the eight pictures Sara had bought from that kid, promising to show them to Paul and give them back to her (he told us later he gave them to Paul).  He promised to get on that kid and get the matter solved.  But he had always been buddy buddy with the kid and we realized later than nothing was really goingn to change, all our efforts and concern had been for nothing.   We were all such suckers.  The only thing that changed was us.  We learned a lot of things that summer.  We were never the same again.

At EMI, 3  Abbey Road the Beatles were putting the finishing touches on the last album they were to make together.  The day John came to EMI after his terrible car accident in July, with stitches on his forehead.   Paul ran out onto the steps and hugged him.  And the last track on the last side was "and in the End."

The two sides of George Harrison

I am pretty sure that I have shared these stories before, but I never realized that they happened on the exact same day.   I figured I would share them as I found them in the August 1969 issue of the "Beatles Rule" fan club newsletter.  This story takes place on Sunday, August 3, 1969 

Geroge  at 4pm at Kinfauns by Sue B.


One of our German friends was sitting outside.  He said the chauffeur told him, George wouldn't but up until 4, so I went and talked to Terry Doran.   Then a girl and her brother drove up with something to give George.  Terry brought it in.   A few minutes later George came out, said "hello" to the girl, then he looked at me, smiled and said, "and what are you doing here?"  I said, "Oh, I'm just lurking about."  Then the  German came running up with a camera and autograph book.  George talked to him in German.  I asked him if I could take a picture, he said "sure."  I asked if he had been recording by himself on Friday night.  He said he was re-mixing tapes for their new album.   He said, "Make sure you tell all your friends about it."  I asked if Pattie was home and he said she was in Paris modeling for the fall collection (however she was in the car with George later that evening). 

I was so hot and thirsty that I asked him for a glass of water.  He said, "Sure, come on in."  We walked up the lawn and I  asked who painted the outside of the house.  He said he and a friend did it.  He went over to the refrigerator and asked me what I wanted:  apple cider, orange juice, milk, water, etc.  I really didn't expect all that so I said I'll take anything as long as it is wet.   So he took out a can of orange soda.  I thought he would have an electric can opener,  but instead, he took off the whole top of the can with a regular one.  Why not punch a hole in it?  It was really funny.  There he is struggling with this can and I'm just standing there next to him like I'd known him for years.  He poured the soda into one of the tallest glasses I've ever seen.  I never drank so much in my life!   You know, I thought I'd be scared silly, but I felt perfectly natural in there.  I couldn't believe he was so human and nice and natural.



George at 7pm at Kinfauns by Barb F.

It was about 7:00 in the evening when we arrived at George's house.  We talked to Terry Doran, who seemed to be minding the house while George was out.  We started to leave but decided to go back up to the door and ask Terry if we could stay and wait for George to come home.  Just as we were going up the driveway, we heard George's car coming up from behind us.  So I stopped, and so did George.  I wasn't quite prepared for what happened, I mean I didn't expect him to do a song and dance because we were coming up his driveway but to yell at us right off the bat was a little uncalled for.  Anyway, I was quite upset.

A big Kiss for Paul

Manchester Piccadilly Hotel

By Susan Dilorenzo

McCartney Ltd. 

Fall/Winter 1979/1980

I’d brought a Hershey’s Chocolate kiss to give to Paul.  It was a large bit of chocolate in a pink box with large blue lettering that read “A Big Kiss for You.”  I’d tried getting close enough to give it to him before but unfortunately the opportunity never presented itself.  Tonight I was bound and determined for results!   I was contemplating just what I’d say as we sat in the lobby of the hotel.  He’d used the elevator yesterday and we expected him to do this again today.  He surprised everyone by using the stairs (to our right) and in less than a second, we flew over to the stairs.  It was myself, Doylene, Marie, Barb, Mary Ann, George, Shelia and Mar.  As if we alone weren’t the equivalent of a crowd, well, you know how it is when Paul enters onto the scene.  Everyone under the sun materializes.   He was on the escalator then in front of us, so we just hopped on too! 

  The award winning ham we all know and love was waving and posing for everyone at the bottom of the escalator.  Once he laid his head on the railing with his arms out and pretended to be sleeping.  Linda had gone on ahead, which she’d been doing the whole of the tour.  Doylene hopped off the escalator and her camera case dropped.  She spent the next few minutes chasing it down the pavement.   He started to walk down the tunnel to the coach and it was here I decided was the moment of truth.  Paul had been signing autographs so when I trembled up to him he smiled at me and stopped walking and poised his pen.  I held the chocolate kiss out to him and asked, “Paul, could I please give this to you?”  He smiled and looked me in the eyes and replied, “You sure can” and looked down to take it from me and then looked up at me again, continuing to look me dead in the eyes.  It was like this through the whole encounter and it was divine!  He has these magical light brown eyes.  Schmaltzy but so true!  I explained why the box was marked on one side.   It had been in my camera case at the show on the 28^th and forgetting, I stood on the case to see Paul better.  “I accidentally stepped on it at the concert trying to see you but I wanted you to have it.  I’m sorry.”  You’d expect him to burst out laughing, but on the contrary.  He was dearly charming and so very sincere.   He replied, “Well, don’t you worry about it.”   I took a step back and smiled and looked down and he walked away.   I couldn’t move.  I watched him walking away with my hands to my mouth, half laughing from blissful hysteria when I see Paul look down at the kiss, reading the print on the box.  He stopped walking and turned around and looked at me.  He smiled at me, that all knowing smile, and winked. 

  Then continued outside.  Further up ahead Marie had asked Paul to sign a mounted photograph of hers.  He signed it on the mount at the top and she said, “Oh Paul---I know beggars can’t be choosers, but I wanted you to sign it at the lights.”  He drew an arrow to the lights and smiled at her, “How’s that?”

I found my feet finally and charged outside, my chin dragging the pavement.  He’d already got on the coach and I heard Barb call out, “Susie, he’s looking at it!”  I ran next to her to get a  look and he was saying something, showing it to Laurence, who was sitting across from Paul and Linda.   Laurence looked at it and smiled and Paul set it on the table and leaned back.  He closed his eyes for a second and then popped back up in his seat, opened it, closed it and sat back.

Someone in all that confusion, Barb got his autograph too, which I had missed.  Mary Ann took a picture to capture that moment.  It is nice to have snaps of the memories. 

Back porch with Paul

One of my all time favorite stories of meeting one of the Beatles for real will be the time that Barb Fenick met Paul at his house.   These photos from that day are the best quality I have found yet.   If you haven't read her story in a while, it is worth a read.

http://www.meetthebeatlesforreal.com/2012/08/barb-at-cavendish-revisited.html

Barb still has her ticket

Barb Fenick is a well-known name here at Meet the Beatles...for Real.    Barb and her fanzine, the Write Thing was the inspiration for me to have this blog.    I tried to take the fan community she has established through The Write Thing and turn it into a 21st century version.     I have never met Barb nor I have ever spoken to her in any way, but I have just so much respect for her.   I think if I ever did meet her,  it would be like meeting a celebrity to me.    Without Barb this blog would have exist and I just really owe her a lot for doing the ground breaking work in focusing on the Beatles' fans in the 1970's and 1980's. 

Anyhow---a wonderful piece was written about her by Jon Beam at the Star Tribune and I really wanted to share it all with you.  

Barb Fenick still has her ticket stub, the Sunday Minneapolis Tribune from Aug. 22, 1965, and all kinds of magazine clippings.

“I was obsessed about the Beatles,” she said. “I wouldn’t have missed that concert for the world. It was fun. It was disappointing, too, because we weren’t that close to them. I was sitting in the front row, but it didn’t make much difference because they were on second base. My goal was to get closer.”

She did. First at a concert in Chicago, then outside Abbey Road studio, where the Beatles were recording in London in 1969. She met all four Mop Tops and even went to Paul McCartney’s house once.

Fenick was so obsessed that in 1966, at age 15, she started a Beatles newsletter using the mimeograph machine at Highland Park High School in St. Paul at the encouragement of a teacher who had a photo of Ringo Starr on his bulletin board. (“He didn’t like the Beatles; he just thought Ringo was funny looking.”) She also started a Beatles fan club: Father Lennon’s Many Children (which was eventually renamed the Write Thing).

For 20 years, Fenick made a living publishing the Write Thing magazine four to six times a year and running the fan club, which peaked at 2,000 members. She even gave copies of her magazine to McCartney in the late ’70s. Over the years, she attended about 40 Beatles conventions and, in the 1980s, published two volumes for “Collecting the Beatles,” a pre-Internet guide to Fab Four collectibles.

In 1986, Fenick stopped writing the Write Thing and practicing Beatlemania. Her second child was born and her Beatles room became her son’s bedroom. After seeing McCartney in concert in 1993, she gave up going to see him.

“The tickets are out of my price range,” said the Roseville grandmother of four. “Plus, I’m spoiled. I saw Wings in England and St. Paul in the front row.”

The Wings Super-fans

I love that I recognize so many of the names from this clipping from the Wings Fun Club newsletter because of the Beatles fanzines that I have been reproducing here over the years.   While I realize that I do not know any of the fans listed here, I feel like I sort of do know them through their stories and finding their photo and name mentioned in the Fun Club really is awesome.

An Encounter with Julian in Chicago (of the Almost close kind)

So today I have a fan story about Julian Lennon during the height of his popularity, during the Valotte tour of 1985.  It was written by Kathy Burns and appeared in the June/July 1985 issue of the the Write Thing.

Julian in front of the Ambassador East Hotel, Chicago, April 24, 1985.  Photo by Jean Steinert

No we don't know what the shirt says either.  Photo by Jean Steinert

An Encounter with Julian in Chicago (of the almost close kind).

By Kathy Burns

This is the Reader’s Digest condensed version of what it was like in Chicago on April 24^th (1985) when Barb Fenick, Jean Steinert, Debbie Stifter and I spent 24 hours in a return to childhood so-to-speak.

We arrived at our hotel around noon.  Barb was hoping to hear from a friend (also going to the concert), but since there was no message waiting and the friend wasn’t home, Barb left a message on her answering machine and we took off to find lunch.  We returned once again a couple hours later, the message light on the telephone was blinking away.  The message received?  “Try the Ambassador East.  Guess Who.”  Well, we may have been out of touch for the past few years, but we hadn’t forgotten that much that we worried about who “Guess Who” was, instead zeroing right in on the cryptic message.  Past experience told us not to call the Ambassador asking for Julian.  That would be too obvious and, besides, those people are paid to lie.  So in a 3 to 1 decision, Barb was elected to call the hotel and ask if Justin Clayton had checked in yet.  A simple yes or no would have sufficed, but instead she was put on hold.  A moment later those of us in the room heard her say, “Yes, I’m checking to see if Justin Clayton has checked in yet…Oh this is he? Well, we were just checking.”  End of conversation (sorry about that Justin!) and on to the decision making process of what to do with this new-found information.

It didn’t take long to decide that nothing was being achieved in our hotel and that we might as well head toward the ambassador.  Ignoring the old adage about Greeks bearing gifts, it was decided that we’d send up a copy of the last issue of The Write Thing to Julian’s room with a note explain who we were and that we’d wait  in the bar downstairs just in case, you know, he wanted to come down and say “hi” or whatever.  You know.

Once at the hotel, Barb took command and told them at the desk that she wanted the newsletter sent up to Julian Lennon’s room.  “I don’t know that he’s registered here” came back the curt reply from an overpaid employee from behind the desk (see what I mean about them being paid to lie?)  “It’s all right, we just talked to him,” Barb replied and turned away.  (We’ve got too many years behind us to be intimidated.)  And then it was to the bar to wait for that once chance in a million.  One good note about having aged a bit is now you look less conspicuous and can get away with waiting in a hotel bar.  Unheard on in the 60’s when we were only 15.

From the infamous Pump Room we could easily keep an eye on the lobby area though the departure of a band of Walt Disney people and the taping of a PM magazine type program only helped to add to the confusion.  In between trips to the bathroom and the telephone, Debbie and Barb were able to keep us abreast of just how many Valotte tour jackets were congregating in the lobby.

By 4:30 it became obvious that the action was moving out to eh front of the hotel where Julian’s entourage seemed to be waiting for their ride.   So much for the Pump Room, and it’s out to the street where, surprisingly, only two young fans were waiting.   It seemed only a matter of seconds before I looked up to see Julian standing there.  (I swear these people do not walk out door.  They simply appear.  It was the same with McCartney in London but that’s another story.)  The young fans who’d been waiting immediately approached him for an autograph while Debbie had the sense to hurry in for photos.  In a few seconds it took him to step and sign, I realized several things quite vividly 1).  Though there’s a resemblance to John and his mannerisms are similar, he really looked more like Cyn in person.  2). He’s smaller than I imagined.  3). He looked younger than 22 and 4).  The people with him keep a very hard eye on everyone in the vicinity.  That was probably the biggest jolt, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been that surprising all things considered.

We all eventually managed to click a few photographs before he disappeared into his van (the results of which ended up being embarrassingly poor).  There still was no driver, so Barb made an attempt to approach the van and get a few record sleeves autographed only to be told not to bother him just then but to come back after the concert.  OK.  Sounds good to us.  Exit to the Auditorium Theater.

The concert started on time with Simon Drake and Kirin.  The opinion of this magician-mime as an opening act seems to have been pretty unanimous.  He might very well be extremely good, but I, for one, couldn’t make heads or tails out of what he was doing.  And it wasn’t long before the crowd began to turn.  By the time Kirin came out dressed as E.T., the shouts had turned form “We want Julian!” to “E.T. Go home!”  Eventually they took the hint.   As seems apparent with most of the concerts he did, Julian’s audience was divided between the old Beatles fans and the young Julian Lennon addicts.  It was never more apparent than when the lights went down and the screams began.

For some reason I envisioned a Julian Lennon concert being very similar to his videos.  We were a little disappointed that the piano was set back so far as we figured that was where he’s spend most of the time.  Once the lights came up, my eyes immediately went to that area in search of.  But where was he?  And then, suddenly, there he was, flying out from the side stage and for a moment we wondered if it was John Lennon’s son we were seeing or Rod Stewart’s!  He is constant movement.  Through at times the words were lost in the screams, it was still fun to watch him move and marvel at his energy.

His is simply a “fun” concert.  If there were lulls as some critics suggested, they were unnoticed by us.  He is quite simply very, very good.  Given a little more time and experience and he will be great.  And if there was anyone disappointed by his performance, they were no where in our vicinity.

For the young fans, their obvious highlights came when he sang “Valotte.”  For the older fans, it had to have been “Stand by Me.”  I challenged any first generation fan there who didn’t feel a chill hearing him sing that song.  It was, for a moment, like being able to hear John in concert one last time.  On no other song have I heard him sound more like his father.  The encore of “Day Tripper” and “slippin’ and Slidin’” brought the concert to a too sudden end and then it was back to the hotel for us.

The entrance to the Ambassador East was a little different after the concert.  Before the van had returned, there were a good 25 to 30 people waiting around and this time there was a total sense of de ja-vu right down to the fans  breaking up to stand apart in their own little groups.  Shades of Abbey Road in the 60’s!

We all had our little jobs to do.  Jean and Debbie were in charge of taking pictures.  Barb and I would try for the autographed picture sleeves.  As the van rounded the corner, the crowd became more animated and since Barb was better able to move than I was, I suggested she take my picture sleeve and get it autographed with her three.  “Why don’t you take two, and I’ll take two” she suggested instead.  “Never mind” I replied looking up and seeing a flash go by.  “He’s already gone in.”  “WHAT?!”  And that was that.  Before we’d had a chance to even move, he was inside and up the elevator.  Even Paul McCartney has been known to drive around the block a couple times just so you know he’s coming.  Not this kid.  He can move.  Well, disappointed or not, we were just convulsed in laughter.  There’s no longer any way to deny it.  We’re getting old.  The young fans are screaming, “here he comes!” and we just have enough time to look up and say, “there he goes.”  So it was back to the bar to drown our sorrows, laugh in our beer as it was, and to watch.  The rest of the band came down but it was soon obvious there’d be no Julian.  Debbie got up enough nerve to ask Justin Clayton if Julian had received the newsletter (he had) and then it was back to our hotel to rest our weary bones and rehash the entire day’s events.

Thomas Wolfe was right.  You can never go home again.  But every so often it’s worth the try.  We’d do it all over again.  No hesitation.  And if McCartney ever tours again, at least we know we haven’t forgotten the tricks of the trade.  It might even be easier with him.  After all, he’s older now too.

Band on the Run

On Thursday, I posted Barb Fenick's side of the story of when she met Paul and Linda in their house on Cavendish Avenue in 1973 as written for "The Mess."   Now I have for you her friend, Becky's side of the same story found in the same fanzine.    It is basically the exact same story, but just from Becky's point of view instead of Barbs.   

There has been a bit of discussion about how the date of August 29, 1973 cannot be true because Paul had been in Lagos since August 9.   Here are my thought on this.    I will almost always believe the date a fan who was there gives, especially in a story that was written not too long after the event, over what was written in a book.  There are some great historical Beatle Books out there, but event he best Beatle authors make mistakes or get false information.  Over the years people's memories fade and false dates get spread around.    However, the fans that met the Beatles are most likely going to remember the date the circumstances around that date and many of the fans kept journals of the events and even wrote down what the guys were wearing.   So I believe Barb and Becky's account that Paul did not leave for Lagos until August 30 or 31st.   You all can decide for yourself what you will believe.

 

Band on the Run

Dateline:  Minneapolis, Minnesota, United States of America

Police headquarters all around the world have been kept busy for the past three months since the escape of Paul McCartney and Wings (famous pop trio), from a London jail.  No one is sure of the exact day of the escape, and Scotland Yard is literally baffled by the whole thing. But, in America the police are taking things into their own hands, and unsuspected citizens are being dragged off the streets and put through torturous interrogations.  Such is the case of one Rebecca Larter (alias J.R.), when it was found out that she had seen and talked to two of the trio last August prior to their arrest.  This is her story.

“Well I don’t know exactly how to tell this to you.  I first saw Linda the night of August 28^th, Mary McCartney’s birthday.  I went to their house with my dear husband Wayne and a mutual friend of our, Barb.  It was dark out and we thought for sure if we went by and the lights were on that would mean they were home.  They were on and suddenly I was cold as ice.  Finally, Wayne rang the front buzzer and Linda answered with a friend, “Hello!”  Wayne said we had a birthday gift for little Mary and Linda said she’d come out and get it.  She opened the front gate, Heather was with her.  Linda looked gorgeous in a black dress and beads.  We must have chatted for five minutes or so.  She said they had just stuffed themselves full of cake and ice cream.  I gave her a couple sketches I had done and the scrapbook I started making of newspaper clippings way back in 1969, she had admired it then.  Barb mentioned if she remembered when my mom and I had talked to her then and she did remember and repeated several things that had happened too.  I was happy that she had remembered.  Well, of course we asked if we could see “the man” but he was evidently too full of cake and ice cream cause Linda said it wasn’t possible just then.  But we did sort of talk her into seeing him the next day even though they would be  busy preparing for their trip to Lagos.  Meanwhile, Mary and Stella came out the front door, standing on the top step and started to come out to the gate, and then Linda said it was time for her to go in.  So we said goodnight.  Wayne and I returned to our hotel room, where I immediately had to start finishing the portrait I was painting of Paul and Linda because I really wanted to give it to them before they left for Legos.  Needless to say we were both up till 4 ‘o’clock in the morning.

After changing our hotel and running around London looking for the perfect gifts for the whole family we were finally on the Tube to St. John’s Wood.  Nervous as could be we approached the gate and gave the buzzer a buzz, but no one was home.  A neighbor girl who was watching their dog informed us they had gone to get their vaccinations.  We were going to leave and come back but the red Lamborghini came around the corner before you know it Paul popped out, with a smile a nod and a good day.  I wished I hadn’t been too nervous because I was so dumb.  But anyway, Wayne, dear Wayne did the fast talk with his foot in the gate, so to speak and before we knew it we were being asked inside the gates.  Wayne just told Paul that we had these things to give him and something real special to show them.  What a whirl.  I just remember Paul kept saying “this better be good.”  Shit, it just made me more nervous.  Wayne took Heather and Mary to the side and showed them my painting and said didn’t they think it deserved to be put up in the hosue somewhere.  Oh yes, definitely as Mary danced about saying “It’s a picture of mommy and daddy!”  Linda, lovely Linda, then asked us, why we all don’t go in the house.  At this point, I felt al little faint.  I always had dreamed of being in Paul’s house but somehow you’re never quite prepared.  So we entered the hallowed halls of the McCartney mansion.  It was absolutely breath taking, being in that house.  I knew now that it was every man and woman for himself.  Everyone went to the room in the back of the house for the unveiling of my masterpiece and I chose to hide in the kitchen during the whole thing because I was afraid he wouldn’t like it.  I heard Linda saying how nice it was and Paul may have mumbled something but I didn’t hear him.  I silently snuck into the room, it was lit very dimly, and Wayne was saying we should look at the painting in better light, but Paul said he liked the light the way it was.  As time goes by, everything becomes a bit hazy to me.  I slightly remember Paul kept asking questions like, was Wayne still happy or if I was still happy being married. I think he asked me if Wayne was a good husband to me.  I know he seemed quite concerned about my welfare.  Then we all trooped into the kitchen, seems odd when I think on it now, Stella sitting in the middle of the floor unwrapping everything, it was really chaos and me, well, I was somewhat hanging onto the rim of the counter for fear of falling over.  Linda was standing next to me examining the contests of the bagful of gifts.  We tried to get it through that we brought a bottle of wine in hopes that we’d all sit down and have some but it didn’t work.  Paul was in the refrigerator getting something to drink, which has unanimously been elected as egg nog.  I guess I was staring at him the whole time although I remember trying not to.  Heather kept coming up to me and telling me it was nice to meet me but it was time for me to go.  Finally I made it clear that I had no intention of leaving until Paul told me to.  I guess it was Wayne and Paul who did all the talking (typical).  I could only talk to Linda.  I told her that we probably wouldn’t be back to London for some time and she was a bit surprised and said, “Oh really?”  She looked so thin and she was really so nice, sometimes I like her more than Paul.  Before I knew it we were in the room where my painting was sitting, I don’t know how we got there and then Wayne asked if we could take some pictures and Paul reacted oddly to that request, as if he didn’t know what Wayne meant. 

 We went out the back door, Paul had suggested we take the photos in the back, and were bombarded by a zooful of dogs that suddenly disappeared when Paul stepped out.  I have no idea where they went.  Linda and Paul stopped at the top step and then I stopped at the one right below Paul.  The picture take was really the fun part everyone was laughing and Paul made silly jokes and silly expressions for the camera.  Luckily, Wayne and Barb took the pictures.  I just don’t think I could have kept a steady hand.  Paul and Wayne did get in a little discussion over whether or not we enjoyed bothering him, he kept insisting that we did, but, with a little help from Linda (thanks Linda), and Paul was set straight.  I also spit out a few quiet whispers on how much it meant to us to be there and he looked at me and said he understood.  He also managed to move up a little bit ad put his arm around me and I just don’t think I could ever say what that was like.  We all just about knew it was soon time to go as we went back in and to not hold back my emotions so I grabbed Linda around the neck and hugest her, she hugged me back, I said she would never know how much it meant to me, everything.  After Wayne, Barb had both shook hands with Paul and said their goodbyes it was my turn, somehow as much as I wanted to express myself as I had with Linda I couldn’t so it was a handshake instead of a kiss, for Paul and me too, but I held his hand for a minute and gazed into his eyes.  It was time and Barb and Wayne and I walked to the front gate as Paul and Linda and Stella waved a fond farewell. 

 And that’s the way it was.  As of this date, Paul and Linda McCartney are still at large.  Any one who may know of their whereabouts, we ask that you contact “The Mess” or your local police immediately.  Keep Britain Tidy.