Hailing a cab?

Photo reportedly from October 3, 1972

The mullet is starting to grow

Look out for the yellow submarine trousers!

Who is walking along Cavendish Avenue with Paul and Martha in 1967???

The Pink mini in St. John's Wood

Waiting at the open gates

The gates of Cavendish are open!   Those fans are ready for whatever is going to happen next....

Please lock me away

Paul and his Dad at Cavendish. 

The bearded biker

Walzer wishes Paul a Happy Birthday

 Many of you may have seen some photos published on Paul's birthday a few weeks ago and recall there was a guy standing there wearing a yellow Wings t-shirt.   I was able to track down the man with the Wings shirt and uke to share with us what happened when he met Paul and Nancy on Paul's birthday at Cavendish Avenue!!!  Thank you so much Walzer for sharing your amazing story!  I am sure all of us here at MTBFR appreciate it.

Ok, what happened was: It's his birthday, why not going to serenade him? My name is Walter Carluccio, but everyone knows me as Walzer. Which is also my artistic pseudonym. I'm a half Italian-half Spanish 31 years young musician, and I decided to move to London in search of a lucky break a month ago.

 I've been a fan of The Beatles since I was 14 years old. Of course I've heard their songs since I was born, my mother was a quite good fan back in the day and she still keeps her Fab vinyls and cassettes, and of course you just cannot grow up without listening to them. As I started primary school in 1989, our first English lesson revolved around greetings, and Hello Goodbye was used during lessons to get us used to those simple words. It resulted I fell in love with that song. In 1993 Off The Ground came up, and Hope Of Deliverance was a fair smash hit in Italy and I, then 10 years-old, fell in love again with the song and video. It was the very first Macca solo song I've heard, I think. The song that really turned me on them was Eleanor Rigby as I was starting high school, and from that moment on I avidly listened to everything I could from the lads. Right from the start, Paul McCartney was my favourite: I found him very funny, incredibly talented and I simply loved his voice. Knowing things better, I noticed a lot of other things we shared: We're both left-handed, we were both born in June -His birthday arriving five days prior than mine-, we both love arts, and surrealism in particular. I love his mannerisms.

 In 2001 Wingspan came out: Up to that moment the only I ever heard from post-Beatles Paul was his first album, McCartney -Still my favourite-, the aforementioned Hope Of Deliverance and Young Boy, which came out in 1997 and had quite a decent airplay in Italian and Swiss radios. Probably the only thing I knew of Wings by that point was Live And Let Die, which riff I had certainly heard before. That compilation blew my mind and I became a Wings fan as well! Also, the launch of that compilation also gave me the opportunity to first "see" Macca with my own eyes, as he came in Milan (I live in a town nearby) during his promotional tour for the Hits & History double set. From that moment on I became a devotee of Paul: I finally decided to go vegetarian -A plan which I was having from quite some years already- thanks to him, and tried to follow his steps and updates on his official site and other webpages. I've always loved to sing, but only in 2002 I decided to take a guitar and begin to strum some chords (As a lefty, of course). What happened was that during the years I became a semi-professional musician in Italy, playing with various bands and in recent years taking part at very important events. Beatles and Paul's song have always been a part of my repertoire, needless to say. 

As I was studying Paul's solo career, I also started listening to the others Beatles alone, and I became a huge fan of each one on their own: Following George's steps I acquired a ukulele in 2008, and quickly became a decent player, and today the uke is probably my favourite instrument. Obviously I knew Paul was also a good ukulele player, I knew his version of Something and in 2004, as I discovered Ram, I was fascinated by Ram On, probably the very first ukulele-based song I've ever heard. In the meantime, I kept following Paul in both his new releases -Driving Rain being his first new album I acquired- and live: I saw him with my mother playing in Rome in 2003, a huge incredible show I'll never forget, and the following year I traveled to Zurich to see him play one of his most curious tours -The 04 Summer-. I was lucky enough to see the show from the third row, something unbelievable for me at the time. During that show I was able to "speak" to him for the first time: As he was making remarks concerning the Swiss German language, I noticed more than a half of the people who were attending the show were actually Italian people who had traveled to nearby Switzerland, so, just before Blackbird, as the atmosphere was silent and calm, I shouted out something like "We're all Italians, here". He acknowledged me and replied "Ah, Italians? Ciao ciao, bambinaa.." -Singing a brief part of Domenico Modugno's 1959 song Piove-. I was flipped out because Paul actually answered me, and that proof I found on the bootleg from the concert I later discovered and downloaded.

 Moreover, in 2011 it happened something even more unbelievable. I attended Paul's gig in Milan -Finally he came to play near my hometown, what a thrill!-, and as I went to the forum very early in the morning in order to get to the first rows, I brought my ukulele with me to kill time in queue. The show took place on the 27th of November, just a couple of days before the sad 10th anniversary of George's passing. I though it could be a nice tribute bringing my ukulele with me also for him. As I left the first row to an Argentinian guy I met during the queue who've never been able to see Macca before, I was standing right behind him, and as I didn't want to ruin my ukulele in the scrum, I kept it in my hand. So it happened that every time I was raising my arms, the ukulele was visible. I noticed Paul saw it a couple of times, and winked and smiled at me. What I wasn't expecting happened right before the end of the show: McCartney took off his guitar as The End finished, took the front of the stage and asked with some evident gestures to some security guy to bring him my ukulele! I just could not believe that! The security came, asked for my ukulele and literally threw it on stage! Fortunately, Paul was able to grab it. Then he asked for a marker pen, someone threw it at him and finally Paul signed my ukulele, in front of tens of thousands of people who didn't know what was happening! As he did so I prorupted in the loudest scream, to which Paul funnily replied looking in my direction. Then he threw the ukulele back to the security guy -Another risky move-, which luckily grabbed it and handled it back to me. I was speechless, in complete shock. Paul signed my ukulele in front of a large crowd, and responded to my scream. It was like there were only the two of us in that moment. Who knows, maybe Paul was thinking of George and decided to make a little homage to him as well. I'd like to think it went like that. Obviously a number of videos from the night posted on YouTube testified the moment, and I became a sort of a star for that.


 I was invited to play at a quite important Beatles tribute in Rome two weeks later, and I decided to bring by freshly signed ukulele with me. I decided to keep playing it instead of keeping it as a sacred relic in my room, hanged on a wall. I think, according to Paul's musical philosophy, he would have done the same. I went to see Paul live two more times, in 2012 in Zurich -Again- and last June, almost exactly one year ago, in Verona at the prestigious and historic roman amphitheatre. My birthday falls on the 23rd, the concert took place on the 25th. I was quite sad and melancholic from my birthday on, because I was turning 30 and I though I somewhat lost my youth. That concert proved me, once more and for all, that all I was thinking was bullshit, as an incredibly energetic 71 year old gave an almost three hours superb show in front of my eyes. I felt relieved thanks to my hero, and as a reward I bought a wonderful Wings t-shirt as I left the arena. 

A few months later, in September, I finally came for the first time in my life to London. It was something I was longing to do since may many a-years, and in the meantime I promised myself to visit the city before my 30th birthday. I didn't succeeded in that, but I was able to repair shortly thereafter. I came here and was completely stunned by this city and its history. Its musical heritage most of all. I visited all the most iconic places related to The Beatles and rock music in general, always bringing my ukulele with me. For instance, as I visited Wimpole Street, I was able to play Yesterday in front of the house where it was actually conceived. Many breathtaking moments like that. Also, I went to Cavendish Avenue in order to serenade Paul a bit -A quite romantic thing, I know-. No one responded, obviously. Another coup-de-theatre: As I was in Soho Square one rainy Friday afternoon, in front of Paul's MPL offices, looking inside from the glass walls-windows, I spotted Macca's right-hand man John Hammel coming down the stair. I immediately jumped because I thought "If he's in, then certainly Paul's too!". I waved at him and he smiled and waved back. I was certain that the appearance of John was a signal of Paul's presence in the building, maybe just one or two flats above me. So I started paying the ukulele again, thinking that maybe some of its notes could reach Macca's ears, right behind one of those windows upstairs. It was another romantic thing, I know. Some weeks later I read a report on Stuart Bell's blog For Whom The Bell Tells in which he wrote that during the first Friday of September, one rainy afternoon, Paul was in his Soho Square offices discussing the cover graphics for New, the latest album. I was proved right! So, up to this moment, I felt I had had almost everything I could possibly want from my life-long artistic muse. I saw him multiple times, I was able to communicate to him and to somehow play for him, and he kind of acknowledged me signing my ukulele.

 In the meantime I was also able to "speak" to Ringo Starr as well when he came to Rome in 2011: As the show took place on the 4th of July, three days prior to his birthday, I shouted "Happy birthday Ringo" from the stands during the gig. He recognized me and replied: "Thank you! Where's the big box?". What else could I possibly ask to my Beatles lucky star? While in London last September, I also met an old friend of mine who was living there: He's a super guitar player and also a good keyboardist. We jammed together a couple of times, and he was so impressed that he asked me to form a band with him, offering to guest me in his house for three months in order to do so. I immediately said yes, how can you possibly deny such a request? It took me some months, though, to set things right and be able to move here, but finally last month I arrived in London. My new adventure in my new city started almost dramatically: I lost my backpack full of precious things, including my very first musical instrument, a glockenspiel, on the coach that transported me here from the airport. Apart from that, I started building me a living in UK's capital. My arrival in London coincided almost precisely with Paul's returning home from his unfortunate Far East tour in order to recover from his illness, and according to the news that sometimes popped up on the web I knew that he was staying in London. I also saw pictures -On the Daily Mail website- of him and Nancy coming off a restaurant the day before his birthday, so I said to myself "Well, if he's in town, I may as well try to visit him tomorrow and wish him a happy birthday. Surely there will be plenty of fans outside of his house to celebrate him". Also I had a job appointment for the next morning in nearby Kilburn, so I could combine both things. 

I woke up in the morning of 18th June, had a shower, shaved my face, wore my Wings tee which I had bought in Verona, took my CV and my ukulele signed in Milan and I went out. After my job appointment, I went walking to Saint John's Wood. I passed by Abbey Road: There was the usual load of people crossing the zebra, taking photos, leaving messages on the studios walls. While passing through them I imagined how many of those people knew that that day was actually Paul's birthday and that he lived a mere five minutes walking from there. I crossed the zebra -Of course- and went through to Cavendish Avenue. With some surprise, approaching the house, I saw nobody was there, as I was absolutely expecting. It was around noon and the street was somewhat desert. Passing people from time to time. Silence all around -As possible in central London-. Some neighbour popping up to pick up his mail. I started to play the ukulele while walking through Abbey Road, even before passing the studios, and while I was walking I was studying the chords for Let 'Em In, so as I arrived at number 7 I had it nailed down. I took off my jacket, left it on the ground, leant myself on the wall on the left side of the front gate and started strumming and singing some songs. I played and sang Ram On, Silly Love Songs, Let 'Em In and Honey Pie. As I was singing or during breaks between songs I kept checking the black tinted windows on the upper flat of the house, the only ones that are actually visible from the street, hoping for someone behind recognizing me. In my symbolic gesture, It would have been great just to imagine that Paul could have been inside listening to me. I really didn't expect that would actually be reality in just minutes. After a rough half hour of playing, during which slightly embarrassed yet curious pedestrians passed me through from time to time, I decided I had enough, as the atmosphere was too much calm and I was starting to think that maybe Paul was in Peasmarsh for his party. But I still wanted to leave a sign of my passage. Noticing a writing on the wall on the other side of the gate, I decided to leave my message as well, a-la Abbey Road. I didn't have a marker pen with me, only a regular pen, which is not so great if you're willing to write on London stock bricks, so I had to press it a lot to get some visible sign on the wall. Doing so I sometime had to stop as I noticed people coming, it is a private wall after all so I wanted to avoid any complication within the neighbourhood. It took me a lot just to write down "Happy Birthday Paul - Walzer", something like ten minutes, and I didn't even finish doing so as THE INCREDIBLE happened.

 As I was writing, suddenly I heard a flash. I turned -As I always did in the last minutes as I heard someone approaching while writing on the wall- and I saw this well dressed photographer shooting as someone on his left -My right-. I leaned moreover on my right and then I saw him standing there! Sir James Paul McCartney! Macca! Paul Ramon! Percy "Thrills" Thrillington! The Fireman! Paulie! The Man was walking, holding hands with Lady Nancy. He was coming back home. The couple was wearing sport outfits and shades, I think they were coming back from a gym as Paul was holding a towel beneath his right arm. He smiled at the paparazzo and kept coming his way. Which was MY way. I instantly took the ukulele, and I had to quickly think of something to play for him. I decided to play Ram On, which as I wrote before was I think the very first ukulele-conceived song I've ever heard. I started to play the very first chords, as the couple were very little meters from me. Paul smiled at me. I think he recognized the song, even if I didn't reach the sung part, as I had stopped playing while the two were passing in front of me. Paul was just a meter from me. I couldn't believe it but it was happening. Then, with an incredible self-control, I kindly said "Happy birthday, Paul". He replied me "Thank you, man!". Which was exactly the answer I was expecting! I noticed during the last years that Paul got quite an habit to end his sentences with "man" while addressing someone. Then, Out of nowhere, Nancy sneaked into the conversation adding a "Nice shirt!", with a very strong New York accent, referencing my Wings tee. Hehe, nice move. Also, I think that was the very first time I heard Nancy's voice. Just as I was thanking her, the couple was about to get into their property: The automated gate opened silently and very quickly just as these few words were spoken, and it was starting to close again as quickly as it opened. I roughly tried to catch Paul's attention once more, pointing at his signature on my uke and telling him "Paul, do you recognize this ukulele? You signed it!". At first it seemed to me that he stopped for a millisecond to look at it, but he didn't reply to that. Anyway the gate was now almost completely close, so I thought there wasn't time for him to see it more. Finally, as the gate closed, I heard Paul telling me from inside "Hey, sorry if I do, but can I kindly ask you to leave this space now? This is a private space. Thanks. man" I don't really think a sidewalk is actually a private space, anyway I totally understood what he meant and I for nothing wanted to cause him any harm, so I obviously obliged. Before doing so I finally finished writing my name on the wall for my dedication. Then I took my jacket and my ukulele and walked away. Or maybe I flied! I checked the clock and it was a quarter to 1 p.m. Now I ACTUALLY met Paul McCartney, I ACTUALLY spoke to him and I ACTUALLY played for him. "My life is now complete! I can die with a smile on my face right now", I said to myself.

 As I was turning the corner of Circus Road I was still buzzing, trying to reach my friend's phone to tell him the stunning news. I wasn't able to do so, but as I was trying I started to realize that it was actually a hardly believable story: No one was there to witness what had just happened and I had no photographic evidence of the event -Because for me it was certainly a life-affirming event-. I thought only three persons witnessed the brief meeting: Me, Paul and Nancy. So it was a sort of a intimate memory, which I though in the end was a nice thing. Returning back to Abbey Road I for another time passed through all the people photographing and signing, people who couldn't know that Paul was actually a few yards away, and that that long haired guy passing by their side was able to meet him. I felt very proud of my secret consciousness, have to admit. As I came back home, I wrote on FaceBook about the incredible story. To my surprise and amusement, a lot of friends believed me even without been able to see a proof of it all. I told them that it was in the end good that no visual evidence of what happened was available. After a few hours, by the way, I decided to detect the Daily Mail website to see if maybe there was an article about the birthday morning fitness session of the McCartneys, as it was the same page I saw photos of the two the day before. To my astonishment, there was! It was already on, and the second photo on the article showed me, Walzer, pointing at my ukulele as the couple was entering the gate! Also, there was another pic of Paul smiling at me -Even if I'm not in the photo. You can only see Macca smiling looking at something (Or someone) on his left-! Evidently the paparazzo didn't went away, as I believed, and he was able to capture the moment. I was on the moon! Not only I was on the Daily Mail -Which is quite something by the way-, but finally I had at least one photo proving that, yes, I MET PAUL McCARTNEY. Thinking about it retroactively, as just five days after all this it was my birthday, I do believe that in the end it wasn't me doing a present for him, but the other way round. I met him! I did it! Thank my lucky stars!

Restless wind inside a letter box....

I have posted this awesome photo before, but it was a scan from a magazine and it had some writing on it.  This clean copy has been on tumblr this week.    When I posted this photo previously we learned that these two girls are standing on Paul's letterbox on Paul and Linda's wedding day trying to sneak a peek at the newlyweds.   

They Wait for Their Paul

This is a short story written by Christel Lorenz for Bravo Magazine in 1968 about a trip she took to London and saw a lot of girls hanging around Paul's house.   For those who were unable to make the trip to London during that time, I think it would have been surprising to learn that so many girls were hanging around Paul's house day and night....


I have just returned from a 14 day stay in England. Since I'm a big Beatles fan, I visited the house of Paul McCartney in St. Johns Wood on the first day.  It was of course a  little adventure for me to  find Paul's house, because St. Johns Wood is not a  small place. When I finally asked someone on the street where I should turn to get to Paul's house, I knew immediately it was his door.  There were at least 10 to 12 girls sitting on the garden wall and waiting  until "her" Paul came out. Sometimes when a few went away, others were added. But I never saw the place in front Paul's house completely empty.

As proof of my report I pressed a couple of times on the trigger of my camera box and can show you these two pictures.

Christel Lorenz Heppenheim

Off we go

The Adventure of a first generation fan part 1

This has been a long time coming!   Way back in 2009, when I first started this blog I posted part 4 of Sue Bujnovsky's article on going to England in 1968 and 1969.  She wrote these articles for Good Day Sunshine magazine in the late 1980 and early 1990's.    And I have posted parts 2, 4, and 5 on this blog over the years.   (You can find them if you look in the tags under Sue's name).    Well I have finally located part 1!!    I bought a large batch of GDS magazines and I hope part 3 is in there somewhere as well.   

Part one was published in 47 (Christmas 1988) issue of Good Day Sunshine fanzine. 

Adventures of a first generation fan

Part 1

By Sue Bujnovsky

As with all “first-generation” fans, I began on February 9 with the Ed Sullivan Show.  I laughed at first, having been brought up on Mitch Miller and Lawrence Welk; but by the end of the show I was totally won over.  I knew then that I would get to England someday.  I started high school that September and met Pat, our common obsession making us “best friends.”  Our motto was “Wait Till ’68” (the year we would graduate) and go to England.

As luck (or fate) would have it, the Modern Language League of Chicago came to our school in December of 1967 to recruit students for their 7-week tour of Europe in the summer of 1968, which included a month in Britain.  After a lot of nail-biting and praying on both sides, our parents gave Paul and me permission to go.

We arrived in London on a sunny day in July of 1968, checked into our hotel and jumped on the first double-decker bus we saw.  We got off in Piccadilly Circus, where we had to wade through the hippies around the Fountain of Eros.  The next stop was Carnaby Street,  a narrow alley actually, but full of mini-skirts and bell bottoms.  We went for a walk that evening along the Thames, and listened to Big Ben Chime.  We were ready!

Pat, who adored Paul, had gotten his Cavendish Avenue address out of a fan magazine.  Cavendish Avenue runs next to the Lord’s Cricket Grounds, one of the most famous in the U.K.  One Sunday evening, we asked the doorman of our hotel to get us a cab to cricket ground.  He explained that it was closed on Sunday.  We said we didn't care, we just wanted to see it.  He said we couldn't see anything., there was a wall around it.  We insisted.  He persisted.  Finally, after almost coming to blows, he decided that we were just more “Crazy Yanks” and got the cab.  Cavendish Avenue turned out to be a short, narrow street in St. John’s Wood.  It was easy to pick out Paul’s house.  There were about 15 girls standing outside the tall black gates.  We approached cautiously; the girls eyed us as definitely unwanted competition.  It didn't take long to become friendly, however, and we learned that the girls were from about five different counties, including the U.S..

It finally happened about three visits later.  We had just come from Madame Tussaud’s where we had seen their wax figures, in the new “Sgt. Pepper” outfits.    A small, white car pulled up outside Paul’s gates.  John got out, with Yoko right behind him.  Pat and I were in shock, or ecstasy (we weren't sure which).  He rang the intercom.  Paul, apparently thinking it was just girls fooling around, didn't answer or open the electronic gates.  John, getting aggravated, grabbed the grating and climbed over the wall.  When he landed on the other side, he opened the gates and pulled in Yoko, who never said a single word.

It all happened so fast, we just stared at each other.  We couldn't believe we’d actually seen a Beatle less than a foot away after waiting for years, much less have him perform acrobatics!  A few minutes later, Paul came out with John and Yoko.  Everyone crowded around for autographs.  He insisted that he didn't have time, but after a little coaxing he agreed.  George has always been my favorite, but I have to admit that Paul was one of the best-looking men I have ever seen (those big brown eyes!).  John on the other hand – when I asked for his autograph – gave me an unprintable reply.  In fact, most of what he said to everybody was unfit for print.  At the time, we were a little shocked, but looking back on it; he must have been so tired of us invading his privacy by then.  I think I can understand.  John wherever you are now, it was a privilege just to have met you.  After we all got our autographs, Paul got in his car and they drove off to Abbey Road, a very short distance away.

That was my first experience with one or more of the Beatles, that summer and in the summer of 1969.  The photos here are of John and Yoko with fans outside Paul’s London home in July 1968 and Paul entering Abbey Road gates in his Aston-Martin also in July 1968. 

With a little help from my (Beatle) Friends

Paul and Linda outside of Cavendish in 1975.  Photo by Cindy and used here with permission

Photo from Cindy used with permission - Paul in 1974.  Read her blog for the story behind this awesome photo

If you like the photos and stories that you find on this blog (and you must, or you wouldn't be visiting here), then I would highly recommend Cindy's blog.   Who is Cindy you ask?  Well she was one of the young girls who was on the watch for Paul and Linda in the 1970's.   I am sure her name can be found on many of the stories from the 1970's that are here on this blog.    If Paul was staying at the Stanhope hotel, then you can bet Cindy along with her new friends were there to see him.  Cindy and her pals traveled across the ocean to London in 1975 and saw Paul and Linda many times there. 

When you go to her blog you get the wonderful opportunity to follow Cindy, who was just a very young teenager, into making Beatle friends and the events that lead up to her meeting Paul McCartney and her wishing to meet him again.     It is an amazing sight and you get wrapped up in her stories.   She also has plenty of amazing and rare Paul and Linda photos on there.

You can subscribe to the blog, so that you can keep up to date when Cindy adds to it.   I told Cindy that I would let you all know about her  blog.   So why are you still here at Meet the Beatles for...real?  Go to With a little help from my (Beatle) Friends right now!


http://cinbob.weebly.com/

Trick or Treat

This is the photo that was printed with this story, although I do not think it goes with the story.

Another story where Paul didn't want girls hanging around, but he was much kinder to these girls and this story turned out nice.    I usually keep the stories the exact way they were written and not change anything, but I had to change some of the grammar on this one.    Written by someone who used the alias of "Susie" for the Fall 1978 McCartney Observer.

Trick or Treat

By Susie

I am happy to say that after our latest escapade we did indeed see Paul!  After waiting so long to see him sometimes a girl tends to build things up in her mind.  You keep telling yourself not to, but somehow things end up that way anyhow. 

We’d heard from a reliable source that Paul would be recording at EMI sometime in October and November (1978).  Great!   We decided to go the twenty-eighth and stay for one week.  Our minds raced!  

“Don’t build it up.” Was Doylenes’ advice.

“No, I won’t.” I assured.  We had a certificate for him and some photos that had just about grown to our hands we’d been carrying them around so long.  We couldn’t wait to see his reaction to the certificate.

Monday:

After two and a half hours we were ready to leave for EMI.  We were on foot since our hotel was walking distance to St. John’s Wood, and we couldn’t have gotten there faster if we’d had skates!  It was 1:30 and we waited.  Several people asked us who we were waiting for.  We thought for a minute, the same thing racing through our heads; if we say we’re waiting for the bus they’ll laugh us into the ground, they’ll know the truth.  If we say Paul, they’ll laugh us into the ground; they’ll know it’s true.

“We’re waiting for Paul,” I said.

“You should be seeing him soon, he usually comes around this time.”

This always made us nervous.  We get nervous when people in a position to know give us positive news.  We aren’t used to be treated like human beings.  There we were, nervous, but happy and smiling in spite of ourselves.

By six pm and three cute little old ladies and two roadies later, we weren’t quite as happy and as I’m sure you can imagine.

By seven we were grinding our teeth. 

“Should I ask someone?”

“Well….”

“I’ll ask these two.”   “Excuse me, but can you tell me if Paul McCartney will be recording tonight or anytime this week?” 

He laughed before replying, which is always good for making people feel like dirt.  “You missed him.  He left Friday on a three week holiday.  He is finished.”  They then walked into EMI.

After grabbing the butcher knife from Doylene we all sussed out the situation with myself; “Oh no!  He can’t have gone!  I can’t believe it!”  I cried.

“I wanna go to a church!” cried Doylene.

And the most prophetic came from Gloria, “My feet hurt!”  He wept.

With one girl in excruciating foot pain and the other despairing all over the place, I calmly took hold and voiced my opinion.  “Look,” I yelled as I pulled my hair, “He can’t have gone.  We went by his house earlier and the door and windows were open and the milk tray was out.  Those are good signs.  We’re just going to have to go to his house tomorrow.  I know he doesn’t like people coming to his house, but what else can we do?”   I’ll explain to him that we missed him at EMI.  He will understand. Okay?

Doylene signed, “I don’t know.”

“Well look, there’s nothing else we can do.  I’ll do all the talking.  I’ll explain.  The next day to Paul’s!”

You always know if it’s a fan walking down Paul’s street for two very obvious reasons.  One is they shake uncontrollably with fear, and two, before they walk down the street they always peek their heads around the corner first to check things out.

We came to the corner and peeked around the wall, then started the last steps to Paul’s green gates.  About three steps from the first we noticed a van outside the house with luggage in the back.  Ugly luggage.  

“Paul’s home!!” I said excitedly.  “He’s still home!  God, it is a good thing we came!”

We walked, as slowly as possible, to just a few steps from the gates.  An older man was loading the last of the luggage, the UGLY luggage into the van.  He slammed the van doors and went into Paul’s, closing the gates behind him.

“I just hope he hasn’t left already,” Doylene said.

“He’s there!” I enthused.  “He’s home.  We’re going to see him!”

“He’s going to be mad.”

“So what?!”  Nothing could bring me down.  “Who cares if he’s nasty.  At least we get to see him!  That is what matters.”

No one said anything.

“Don’t worry.  I will do all the talking.  I’ll explain.”

I was so happy.  What  a sap.

For half an hour we shifted nervously.  Nothing much happened between the time the TV repairman came and were told to return at 11 and the trash collectors emptied Paul’s two bins.

The sun was shining.  Good sign.

Suddenly we heard the wee sound of foot-steps, stepping their way to the gates from inside.  Two clicks and a swinging gate later our eyes rested on our bit of heaven, it was Paul!  In a handsome dark plus suit and white shirt, looking not a day over twenty-five.

I was shaking a couple steps in front of Doylene and so it was I he saw first.  “Please don’t hang around here (pointing to the ground).  This is the house and it’s private.  People are always hanging around here.”  

Our reactions were rather comical.  I all but hopped into the nick in his wall as I stepped back a couple steps and pulled the certificate closer to me.  He scared me!  He never raised his voice or yelled, but believe me, his message was well read.  I didn’t think there was any way more could be said.  I could say no more.  My mouth froze halfway open and the rest of me went numb.  I saw nothing but Paul.  Three things raced through my mind, foremost being, “God, he’s beautiful in those tight pants!” and “That not his line.  This isn’t the way I built it up in my mind.” And three, “Where is Doylene?  Give me someone to hide behind!

Gloria thought his entrance important enough to stop dusting cobwebs off her coat (she had been leaning against his wall).  She too said absolutely nothing.  Two things raced in her mind, “God, he’s beautiful!” and “I wonder if he saw me dusting cobwebs off my coat.”  Gloria kept her dignity, her mouth stayed shut.

Then we have the most amazing of us all, Doylene.  She talked!  “We’re sorry, Paul.  Please don’t be mad.  We didn’t want to come here but we tried really hard to see you at EMI and couldn’t and we just wanted to give you this.”   He looked to the certificate in my hand that Doylene pointed to.

“Oh, okay, but hurry cos we’re in a bit of a rush.”  (He made a cute face as he said this, pointing back to the house.)  He walked a bit closer to us and seeing I wasn’t able to, Doylene took the certificate from my hands and handed it to Paul.

He was expecting to see a photograph of himself that wanted signed and he was pleasantly surprised to find it was a gift for him.

When he came to the part that said his name, his eyebrows went up and down and his face lit up. He smiled and pointed to himself; “Oh, it’s for me!”

I saw his two front teeth!  It was adorable.  He didn’t read it all as he was in a hurry (we could hear the family coming out of the house now).  He looked up at us and his grin turned into a sweet smile

. 

“Okay—thank you.”

He waved to us and, still smiling went back inside.

We didn’t wait around to see him come out gain and leave with the family.  We just turned and left.  I cried, the realization of it all came to Doylene and she too was a bit numb, and we were all terribly happy!

A few drinks later,

 in the Portland Arms Pub in St. Johns Wood we reminisced.

 

Goodbye Rosie

Rosie outside of Paul's house with some of the regulars

Photos of Rosie Martin holding Eddie taken July 25, 1968 by Scotti Cohn

I am extremely sad to hear from the Paul McCartney sight that Paul's dear housekeeper and nanny, Rosie Martin has passed away at the age of 92.   

Of course, Rosie was a big part of Paul's life from the late 1960's and all of the Wings era and there is a wonderful story Paul tells about how after Linda passed away, Rosie would still say good morning to her.   I think Rosie worked for the McCartney family until around the time Paul married Heather.  Rosie took care of the McCartney children and she traveled with them during the Wings touring days.  It is even said that Paul named the album "Red Rose Speedway" after her.

Rosie was an important person in the Beatles fan community.   She became a friend and someone who was an insider that could give the fans bits of information about Paul's whereabouts.   However, from what I have read, the fans had a lot of respect for Rosie and loved her like a mother.   They didn't seem to take advantage of her and would often ride the Tube or bus with her to made sure she made it back to her home safely.

My sympathies and condolences go out to her family and to the McCartney family as well as the fans who considered her to be a friend.   Rosie was more than just Paul's housekeeper, she was part of the Beatle family and she will be missed by us all.

Trying to sneak by

Paul Birthday surprise

It is nice to see more frames of Paul and the fans crowding around his car as he leaves Cavendish Avenue on his 25th birthday.  Not only do we get to see Cavendish house in the background, but we also see that Paul's passenger is his brother Mike, who is documenting this event.  

Jimmy at Cavendish

photo by Graeme Leonard

I fellow McCartney/Wings fan especially likes the Wings' guitarist, Jimmy McCulloch.   If you have any rare photo of Jimmy, let me know!  

Pools of sorrow, waves of joy

It was 44 years ago today that Paul McCartney married Linda Eastman.   This was a huge event in the life of Beatles fans.   There are several stories of fans who heard the news of Paul getting married and left the life that they once knew and went to London to be what became the Apple Scruffs and the other fans. 

We all have seen the footage of the fans weeping and wailing at Paul and Linda's wedding.   I have often wondered why they had such a huge reaction to Paul getting married.    Two of the other Beatles had weddings while the band was together and you didn't see an outpouring of extreme sadness and tears at their weddings.   Surely the fans did not think that they had a chance with Paul?   I know on some level many of them did (just as I thought I had a chance in marrying Joe McIntyre when I was 14), but really they couldn't have truly believed it.    And then I start to think deeper and wonder if Paul had married Jane Asher, would the display had been as big?   I doubt it.   Most of the fans really liked Jane whereas they highly disliked Linda.   Alright let me just lay it all out there.  Many of them hated Linda.  They hated how she treated them.   They hated how she was attached to Paul's arm every single time they saw him.   And most of all they felt that Linda was making Paul change into a meaner person.    I cannot say if any of that was true, but I have read some really cruel things about Linda from 1969.    Some fans were nicer to Yoko than they were to Linda, which is something history overlooks.    And that is my feelings why the fans were bawling in uncontrollable ways out in the streets of Paul and Linda's wedding.

So here are some photos of that memorable day in Beatle fan history.

Three Days in September 1975

Last week I posted Graeme's story and photos about meeting Paul and Linda in 1975.  Well Graeme has emailed me again with another story of meeting the McCartney's and seeing them in concert late that same year.  This is great stuff!   Graeme also brings up a good point.   We are Beatle fans, and obviously we love the Fab 4, but there is also a bond that we share and friendships that we form because of the Beatles that have lasted for many fans decades.   I often say that I very rarely have met a Beatle fan I didn't like.   Beatle fans are amazing people and it is so wonderful when I hear of people having important friendships because of the love of the Beatles. 

Graeme's ticket stub for the Newcastle concert

Paul McCartney concert at Newcastle City Hall September 16, 1975

Concert at Newcastle City Hall September 16 1975

Concert at Newcastle city Hall September 16, 1975

Jimmy McCulloch, Graeme Leonard, Joe English at the Westmoreland Hotel, London, 18th September 1975

Joe English, Nicky Pope, Jimmy McCulloch at the Westmoreland Hotel, London, 18th September 1975

Nicky Pope, Graeme Leonard, Paul McCartney at Cavendish Avenue, 18th September 1975

Paul & Linda McCartney, Cavendish Avenue, 18th September 1975 

Jimmy Copeland and Paul McCartney, Cavendish Avenue, September 1975 (all photos belong to Graeme Leonard. Posted by permission)

Three Days In September 1975...

In September 1975, less than a month after meeting Paul & Linda McCartney for the first time, Wings embarked on a 13-date UK tour and I was lucky to have tickets for three of the gigs... on three consecutive nights.  A lot had happened since seeing the band two years previously... Denny Seiwell & Henry McCullough leaving... the ‘Band On The Run’ and ‘Venus and Mars’ album releases... Jimmy McCulloch & Joe English joining.

The first of these concerts was at Newcastle City Hall on 16th September and I waited at the stage door for the band to arrive, but couldn’t get close enough to take any decent photos.  However, my seat in the third row that night more than compensated and I was able to get a few good shots of McCartney in action.  It was a fantastic performance by the whole band, with a much longer set than I’d experienced in 1973... including, to my delight, some Beatles songs.

The next day I travelled down to London for two shows at the Hammersmith Odeon, meeting up with my friend Nicky Pope and us going there together.  Another brilliant evening.

The following day was to become an unforgettable one...

I overheard the Wings tour bus driver, in Newcastle, talking about where the band were scheduled to stay in London.  It was the Westmoreland Hotel in St John’s Wood, NW8... only a few minutes away from the McCartney’s house.  So, on September 18th, Nicky and me decided it was worth a trip to the hotel for the chance to meet one or two of the band.  We arrived at an imposing and posh reception area, breezing through without a care in the world in the direction of the bar.  Incredibly, we got there just at the same time as Jimmy McCulloch was in the middle of a disagreement with the bartender.  The guy was refusing to serve Jimmy a beer as he believed him to be underage.  Jimmy didn’t protest too much although he was obviously unhappy about it.  To his great credit, at no time did he play the “hey, I’m a famous rock star” card.  Instead, he slipped some money into my hand and said, “get me a pint please and a drink for yourselves”.  He sat down near the window and waited for us.  Amazingly, considering we were both much younger than Jimmy, we got served without a problem and took the drinks over to his table.  “Cheers”!!  A few minutes later Joe English appeared and made the party complete.  What an experience!!!  It was surreal... sharing an afternoon with two of the musicians we’d seen on stage with Paul McCartney less than 24 hours earlier and due to repeat that night.  After about an hour in the bar it was time for them to leave for Hammersmith.  Before doing so, they kindly agreed to have some photos taken with us outside the hotel.  We gave them our thanks and went merrily on our way...

That should’ve been enough excitement for one day, but... there was more to come.  We walked the short distance to Cavendish Avenue, fully expecting to find a throng of fans outside the house.  However, there wasn’t a single person in sight.  Our immediate thought was that we were too late and Paul & Linda had already made their way to the venue.  We chose to hang around for a little while... just in case.  It proved to be a wise decision.  We were soon joined by two other people.  A middle-aged lady called Kathleen Copeland had brought her son, Jimmy, over from Northern Ireland to see Wings as a treat for his 16th birthday.  Then suddenly, to our surprise, the gates of Number 7 slowly opened and a bright green Porsche (it was a bright orange Porsche in August!!) emerged.  Wow!!!  Paul & Linda on their way to the gig.  They stopped for a chat with us and to have a few photos taken... such a lovely way for them to treat their admirers.

Afterwards, we got talking to Jimmy Copeland and exchanged addresses.  We’ve remained close friends ever since... often meeting up for McCartney concerts, in various locations, during the past four decades.

So, onwards to Hammersmith Odeon... all of us.  Venus and Mars are alright tonight... for the third night running.

These recollections are not just about my adoration of Paul McCartney & Wings in the 70’s... it’s also a story of lifelong friendships, as a result of chance encounters.

Jimmy & Nicky... so glad we shared those wonderful youthful moments.

So glad we still share the memories.