Concerts Today are Just Spectacals (1976)

Paul and Linda performing in Cincinnati in 1976 -- not knowing that some people were having a terrible experience. 

 I hear a lot of people complaining about the concert experience today, and I agree with most of what they're saying (ticket prices are out of control for most shows these days), so I found this article about the concert experience 50 years ago really interesting.   I, for one, am glad that "festival seating" for the most part is in the past.  I can't imagine the nightmare that must have been for a big concert, and how disappointing it must have been to get there early and find yourself way in the back, unable to see over the heads of everyone standing.  Anyhow I thought this writer had an interesting comentary. 

Concerts Today are Just Spectacals

By Terry Lawson

The Journal Herald

September 2, 1976

     I don't go to concerts anymore, and I feel pretty guilty about it. A good portion of my life revolves around music, and even the best-produced record albums are no substitute for experiencing music live. Communication is, of course, what music is all about, and presumably musicians should communicate best in an environment where they can receive as well as give.

     But I find it hard to fathom that most music fans are getting much out of the vaudeville spectacles that pass for concerts these days. They seem increasingly to have less and less to do with music. My last foray into the arena was to attend the summer's Paul McCartney and Wings concert at Riverfront Coliseum in Cincinnati. The first disappointment came when it was discovered that the Cincy appearance was one of two on the tour that called for "festival seating." To the uninitiated, festival seating is a red herring word for "no reserved seats"; it generally means that the promoter of the concert did not want to go to the trouble and expense of having tickets numbered and ushers hired to guide patrons to seats. Also, with this arrangement, more bodies can be packed into a limited space since there are no seats set up on the floor. 

    To counter this, I and about 4000 others arrived at Riverfront an hour or so early to attempt to get a decent seat. Most of the gathered crowd amused themselves by indulging in the great American pastime, boozing. By the time the appointed door-opening hour had come and gone, the crowd was surly, screaming and smashing empty glass containers against the walls of the arena. When the crowd began pushing against the glass door, the security people panicked and threw all the doors open at once, allowing the 20,000 or so who gathered behind the early birds to swarm in ahead of the mob in front. The promoters also abandoned the idea of collecting tickets, prompting the wheeler-dealers attending the concert to return outside and sell their tickets to the unsuspecting, hoping to score a scalper's ticket at the arena. 

    By the time my friends and I made it inside, the only seats left were behind the stage. $9.50 bought me a beautiful view of McCartney's back. Oh yes, the music was terrific. That is-- the part of it you could hear between the constant barrage of firecrackers being lit and pitched all around the arena. One firecracker sailed perilously close to McCartney's right ear. He hardly blinked, causing an observer to deduce this was sort of de rigurer. 

    Leaving the scene was as revolting as the rest. Vomit and broken glass were everywhere you stepped. The feeling was that of a prisoner leaving Devil's Island. The papers reported the next morning that one concertgoer left the Coliseum and walked directly into the Ohio River, drowning.

     Now this may be somebody's idea of a good time, but not mine. When I related this experience to a friend, he chided me, saying I was just "too old to enjoy myself." The same friend returned to Riverfront the following week to see Yes, his favorite band, and came away with an almost identical reaction. "Maybe I'm too old too," he grumbled. 

    Of course, not all concerts are as poorly produced and managed as the McCartney fiasco. There are some promoters, Bill Graham of Fillmore fame, who come immediately to mind, who are professional enough to avoid the pratfalls and attempt to bring the music-hungry hordes an enjoyable experience. But concerts do not function as purely musical experiences anymore. More and more, they have become excuses for a gathering of the tribes, for young people to assemble, to smoke grass, booze, and revel in their sameness. The music is secondary. Pity, I sure do love to hear live music.

John takes the field

 

Flash! City Girls See the Beatles (1966 Cincinnati)

Beatles fans in Cincinnati near the stadium in 1966 

 

Flash! City Girls See The Beatles

By Larry Smith

The Herald-Times (Indiana)

August 23, 1966

"We saw the Beatles. I mean, we really saw them!" Debbie Zimmerman, a 15-year-old Bloomington High School sophomore, not only saw the Beatles, but she got into their Cincinnati hotel room and out with a piece of lettuce, with French dressing on it and some hair that "just had to be Ringo's."

     Debbie, her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Richard Zimmerman, 2212 La Jacque Lane, and two friends, Kathy Yates and Donna Glasgow, both 15 and BHS sophomores, bought tickets last May for last Saturday's Beatles show in Cincinnati. 

    The girls arrived in Cincinnati Saturday morning around 10 a.m. to await the 8 p.m. show that night. Mr. Zimmerman and the three girls set out to find the Beatles' headquarters. A Cincinnati newspaper story said the Beatles were supposed to be staying in the Vernon Manor Hotel on the sixth floor.

     Mr. Zimmerman called the hotel and asked for room accommodations for the night. It just so happened there was a suite available on the fifth floor. The hotel lobby was full of waiting teenagers since the night before, all waiting to catch a glimpse of their idols, but Debbie and her two companions, with their hotel room key in hand had proof that they belonged there, started the long walk up to the sixth floor to really see the Beatles. 

    The policemen sent them back down the stairs, but all was not lost. Debbie, Kathy, and Donna would not give up until the Beatles were on their way out of town. The outdoor performance was rained out Saturday night, and the Beatles' manager, Ken Douglas, announced that travel arrangements would be changed and that a performance was set for "right after church" Sunday. 

    Kathy said that about 4o'clock Sunday morning, a noise woke her, but she didn't find out until later that it was the Beatles themselves, still up and partying on the floor above. The girls were up by 6:30 Sunday morning, still planning on seeing the Beatles. Shortly before noon, the luggage for the Beatles' entourage was brought to the ground floor lobby, and Kathy said, "I touched it. I ran my hands over John's suitcase, and I touched George's clothes." A guard finally chased them away. 

    Then, from out of nowhere, Debbie's father appeared and told her to follow him to the sixth floor. There were only about 15 people there, mostly hotel employees. Debbie and a hotel maid were the only two females. Then it happened. The door opened, and out came John Lennon. Debbie said, "He's my favorite, and I screamed 'hi' three times, and he walked by and said 'hi' back." George and Ringo and Paul followed. 

    By this time, Debbie was in a state of shock. After the Beatles had left the hotel, Kathy and Debbie talked the maid into letting them see the hotel where the Beatles stayed. That's when they found the piece of lettuce, and Debbie found a tuft of hair that "just had to be Ringo's", and Kathy found some shed hair in a bedroom, and it "just had to be John's." There were some burnt matchsticks too. Debbie said, "The Beatles look so different in person. Their hair is so long."

Beatles Colossal Brush Off Disappoints Fans (Cincinnati 1966)

Photo by Gordon Baer

 

Beatles Colossal Brush Off Disappoints Fans

By Dale Stevens

The Cincinnati Post and Times Star

August 20, 1966

Idols fly in, snub crowd, and vanish in 18 seconds

    Well, John, Paul, Ringo, and George-they say you're nice guys, but as far as I'm concerned, you're not. Even Frank Sinatra, at his saltiest, doesn't treat people the way you do. The Beatles, the English rock and roll group that has become the biggest hit in the history of show business, rolled into Lunkin Airport at 2:45 a.m. today. They preferred to stay over here overnight rather than in Memphis, where last night they did two concerts. From the door of the plane, past the waiting reporters and photographers, it took the Beatles a snappy 18 seconds to get into a limousine and away. 

    Their management, which apparently is more concerned with secrecy than courtesy, condescended to let the Beatles' car drive within the fenced-off area, so the 150 fans beyond the fence could wave, but standing within the fence were five young girls from Lexington, Kentucky, who had spent $367 on four floral horseshoes and wanted to hand them to Lennon, McCartney, Starr, and Harrison. 

    The limousine didn't stop, but Jan Greer, an 18-year-old Lexington student, got a grip on the window and tried to hand her carnation horseshoe to Paul McCartney. The 60 flower horseshoe split in two. Jan fell to the ground, bumping her head and rumpling her clothes, and away sped the Beatles, whose sole tribute to their followers and press was a collection of sincere, rehearsed smiles. 

    Afterward, the Kentucky girls insisted they didn't blame the Beatles. They still hoped to be able to present their flowers to the boys. They even vowed to buy another bouquet to replace the one lost in the motorcade. Jan, distraught, embarrassed, and sad because the Beatle car hadn't slowed down to less than 25 miles an hour, said she had said something stupid like "I love you" to Paul McCartney through the limousine window before falling. 

    Jan's friends are Linda Simmons, 19; Carol Lester, 18; Bonnie Sharp, 16; and Brenda Snowden, 16. Linda and Carol are secretaries in Lexington. For weeks, they had taken a few dollars from their salaries to pay for the flowers. The other girls, still students, had to save from their allowances for the $367, which included $20 to get the flowers here by refrigerated truck so they wouldn't wilt. Each horseshoe held five dozen carnations, one natural red, the other sprayed purple, blue, and green. Each horseshoe was three feet high, about half the size of a regular one used to crown winning horses, according to the florist who delivered them. And though the girls were permitted inside the runway fence, there was no guarantee they would be able to get their flowers to the Beatles. 

    They still had only words of love for the Britons after their brush-off. The newsmen had no such praise. All were miffed at the idea that the Beatles didn't even pause for a decent photo or as much as one question; the rush was put on by their management, of course, but it seemed a gross show of disrespect for the professional press to show up at the inconvenient middle-of-the-night arrival. 

    The medium-sized contingent of police, who were to guard the Beatles from possible overzealous fans, didn't have much to do at either Lumpkin or Vernon Manor Hotel because of the bewitching hour schedule. Barely 35 fans were at the Vernon Manor, evenly divided between teenage girls and fellows with hair as long as the Beatles' trusses. The Beatles and their group of about 65 people, managers, booking agents, international press, and supporting acts are housed on the sixth floor at the suburban hotel. Vernon Manor was sold out for the occasion. Some of the people staying there are believed simply to be in the same building with the Beatles. 

    Three cars were supplied by Stillpass Mercury for the motorcade, but owner Joe Stillpass laughingly denied he might later take one of the cars apart to sell it piece by piece. In the past, such items as bed sheets have been sold by the square inch once they had accommodated the Beatles. This scene this time was nothing like the 1964 Beatles' arrival, but the frenzy then was aided by their daylight landing. It doesn't signify any shift in sentiment by their followers. In 1964, almost 13,000 attended the Cincinnati Garden Show.

    Tonight, about 18,000 are expected at Crosley Field, and last night the best advance planning probably belonged to the two girls who showed up at the baseball park after the stage had been installed near second base. They chipped away part of the stage timbers for souvenirs, then kissed the infield dirt by the handful, replacing it near the stage steps in hopes the Beatles might walk on their kisses.

     That was precisely the atmosphere expected by Tom Dixon, Cincinnati police captain who headed the squad at Lunkin and Vernon Manor this morning. He said his men were prepared for anything, even the remote possibility someone might want to harm the Beatles. But his main job, he said, was to protect them from their followers. Kisses, he indicated, are more of a threat than killers. It must be true, for the limousine parked behind the Vernon Manor at 3:30 a.m. bore the script written on the dusky trunk, "Hi Ringo," and "I love you, Paul, and the dirty fingers belonged to Charlene Drescher of 1621 Pelham and Pam Kruger of 5832 Kennell, unlike the press, their adoration knows no bounds, and they do not insist upon professional conduct, and that, as I say, is show business.

Gold Cart Paul

 August 4, 2011 - Cincinnati 

Paul McCartney is in a Class By Himself (1976 Cincinnati)

 

Paul McCartney is in a Class By Himself

By Bruno Bornino

The Cleveland Press

June 4, 1976

    "We've been amazing ourselves," said Paul McCartney in his dressing room following an incredible performance by his band, Wings, at Cincinnati's Riverfront Coliseum. 

    "Our first US tour is going much better than we expected, or even hoped for. We'll be back."

     With that happy news, McCartney, who hasn't set foot on a concert stage in this country since the last Beatles performance 10 years ago, sank back on a couch and put his arm around his wife, Linda.

     "It's just been lovely," agreed Linda, who doubles as Wings keyboard player and backup vocalist. "We couldn't be happier."

     And no wonder. This initial Wings Over America tour, which began in Fort Worth, Texas, on May 3 and will end in Los Angeles on June 23, will play 34 sold-out dates in 21 cities. Total tour attendance will exceed 600,000. That includes the 20,731 fans who saw Wings perform in the Cleveland Richfield Coliseum on May 10, and the 18,500 who watched the show in Cincy's Coliseum on May 27.

     Wings, which, besides the McCartneys, include Denny Laine, Jimmy McCulloch, and Joe English, will gross more than $5 million. However, the 33-year-old multi-millionaire McCartney doesn't appear to be too impressed with money. He was dressed in a loud Hawaiian-print shirt, new, unfaded jeans, and worn-down rubber-soled desert boots. His 34-year-old wife wore a two-piece black suit with a skirt, a lavender blouse, and was shoeless. 

    When I told him that Roger Daltrey of The Who said each of their (The Who's) shows cost $30,000 to put on,  and that I thought that the Wings concert was even more lavish and probably more expensive to produce. McCartney just shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't have any idea how much each of our concerts costs to produce. I never get into the money thing; someone else takes care of that. I'm just interested in the show being right, and yes, I guess that does take a lot of money."

     McCartney, who appeared on the cover of last week's Time magazine and this week's Rolling Stone, People, and literally every rock publication, was good-natured about the first inevitable question about the Beatles reunion. By his own admission, he's prepared a number of stock answers; take your pick. 

    "I would never participate in a reunion for money." The Beatles reportedly have been offered between 30 million and 50 million for one concert.

     Rolling Stone: "We maybe could be together for a thing, but it always feels to me like it would be a bit limp. The truth is just that since we split up, we've not seen much of each other. We visit occasionally. We're still friends, but we don't feel like getting up and playing again. You can't tell that to people. You say that, and they say, 'How about the money, then? ' and you end up having to think of reasons why you don't feel like it.

     "I tell you, before this tour, I was tempted to ring everyone up and say, 'Look, is it true we're not going to get back together? Because we all pretty much feel like we're not. And as long as I could get everyone to say 'No, we're definitely not', and I could say "It's a definite no-no", but I know my feeling, and I think the others' feeling, in a way, is we don't want to close the door to anything in the future, we might like it someday."

     Chicago Tribune, and many other newspapers, "You can't reheat a soufflé."

     New York Times:  "It's 'probably not' with the possibility of a 'maybe'. No one wants to shut any doors permanently, but by the same token, no one wants to start any rumors. Before we left England, I thought I'd better think of some brilliant answer to that question. If you think of one, go ahead and use it, and I'll agree with it. 

    "It's like a divorced couple, the friends of the couple keep hoping, but the reality is that the two, or the four in this case, aren't coming together again unless they feel the hots for one another."

     In Cincy, McCartney was asked if, when he formed Wings, he had any trouble concentrating on specific goals due to the success of the Beatles. Pausing before answering, he said, "Yeah, I sure did. It's a question of how to follow that kind of success. What I realized I wanted to do most, basically, was to sing. So we decided to get something together, and what we finally got together was Wings."

     Prior to seeing and hearing Wings, if someone had asked who was the world's number one rock personality, I wouldn't have hesitated a moment before choosing among Elton John, Mick Jagger, Elvis Presley, and Bob Dylan. Now that same question would get an immediate response: Paul McCartney. One word: class separates these five superstars, and only McCartney has it. 

    Elton, Mick, Elvis, Dylan, and Paul have each sold millions of records, play only sold-out concerts, and are adored by music lovers the world over. Only McCartney, however, has made himself readily available to the press, and, ironically, he has the most to fear from the media. 

    He not only does interviews following his spectacular two-and-a-half-hour show, but also seems genuinely interested in doing everything right.  Among other rock stars, that definitely puts McCartney in a class by himself,

Old Beatle Looks at His New Career (1976)

 Old Beatle Looks at His New Career

By Brad Balfour

The Cincinnati Post

May 28, 1976

    Paul McCartney denied Time magazine's suggestion in the recent cover story on him that he was afraid of snipers. McCartney cleared the air about this in an interview backstage after his appearance at Riverfront Coliseum with his new group, Wings. 

    "Snipers? I'm not afraid of them. Unfortunately, Time magazine writes its own articles, and I don't write them. I actually didn't say that, but the researchers think it's true. I've got my idea where they got it from. I was just on stage joking, saying to someone, 'Oh, this is it', and I was joking, and there was probably some Time magazine researcher just lurking about."

     Paul's wife, Linda, suggested this would make the situation bigger, saying, "That's sick, because it starts you asking questions about a fantasy that isn't, and then you write about it, and then everybody starts to know about something that isn't."

     To that, McCartney added, "Let's not make it any bigger, folks, it's just a mistake."

     If anything else, the McCartneys strive to be just natural folks (even down to Linda's unshaven legs) and downplay the sensational, but the sensational can't be helped, considering the significance of former Beatle McCartney's return to touring with Wings. The significance that carries a $50 million price tag for a one-time Beetle reunion.

     Was Paul insulted at such commercial value being placed on their creativity? "It's not an insult. I just think it's life. Before that, Sid Bernstein made a couple of offers, though not quite as seriously. They were big offers, but this fellow has just made a massively huge offer. I don't think it's a real offer at all, but even if it were, it's nothing that the four of us would want to do at this time. That's not because of any lousy reason; it's just not anything anyone is interested in."

     For Paul and Linda, Wings is just fine. They are filming a couple of the shows and plan to do a live record, as Paul says, "If it's good enough." Wings is being defined with this tour, just as the McCartneys are relaxed and unassuming, Paul in his Hawaiian shirt, and Linda in her simple jacket and muslin skirt.

     The show is assertive with rock energy. The band comes through completely live and is still uncertain on the recordings --that has been said. "I think it's true to an extent. I think it will be remedied with the next recordings we do. I think it does come across stronger on stage. All the live things do," McCartney said.

     The McCartneys' approach to the live show has been simple and direct, having let it develop naturally. "We could do a lot more slower numbers, but the truth is this is what we ended up with after a few weeks of thinking about it. It's what we like to play. We just put it into order, and the nice thing about that is that when we've got a show around it, it all seems to mean something. We just take a bunch of songs in order and go up and sing them, but it all comes out as a show."

     Does live performance influence work in the studio? "Sometimes you think about that, but sometimes you think, well, however, we're making a record, and that shouldn't be the consideration. We're trying to make an audio trip, so maybe we'll want to do something we wouldn't be able to get, but mind you, we're able to get stuff most of the time. 

    "If you work with tapes, you can get anything. We use a Mellotron, on which you can have sound effects that simulate strings. It's a keyboard instrument. You hit a key, and any given tape will click for you; you can select all kinds of things."

     Linda added, "On 'Live and Let Die,' the strings are actually a keyboard, or on 'Silly Love Songs'. I've got some great sound effects, Bugs Bunny's on the tape. You can switch to a keyboard with sound effects, and you have 40 sound effects to choose from."

     "So we use those in the shows as sort of links," Paul said. "I'm successful at the moment, which is great, but I think the others all make very good music. It all depends when they want to do it. At the moment, we're touring, so it looks very consistent, but if we take three months off and John has got out a new  one or  George, everyone looks that way."

     Finally, I asked Paul if he was weary of questions about the Beatles. "It depends what kind of questions. If they harp too much on the sort of legendary bit, I mean it's a bad vibe question. I'm weary of those."

McCartney Returns in Bubbles & Strobes (Cincinnatti 1976)

 McCartney Returns in Bubbles and Strobes

By Steve Konicki

Dayton Daily News

May 28, 1976

    Paul McCartney has the rare kind of magic that seems to follow him from recording studio to concert hall, almost unnoticed. It turns everything he does into a golden circus.

     Thursday night at Cincinnati's Riverfront Coliseum proved no exception. The mere appearance on stage of McCartney and his band Wings brought a three-minute standing ovation. There were swooning teenage girls, a barrage of balloons, fluorescent glow lights, and 1000s of soap bubbles that rose from beneath the stage. 

    Some in the audience of 30,000, it seemed, had been waiting to see McCartney since June 1966 when the Beatles played their last concert together at San Francisco's Candlestick Park. A teenage girl in a white halter top asked a friend named Debbie, "Do you think he'll do, 'Michelle'? What about 'Band on the Run'?" Though the teenager was barely seven in 1966, she seemed straight out of the days when what was known as Beatlemania swept the land.

     "Oh, Debbie, I can't stand it," she said.

     Wings responded to the energy of the moment and broke into an impressive medley of "Venus and Mars", "Hollywood Bowl," and "Jet." McCartney, in a black and white satin cowboy suit, carefully directed the band from center stage in front of his bass guitar amplifier and from his elevated grand piano. The surprisingly tasteful use of the standard for a rock concert-- smoke bombs and strobes was complemented by a newer gizmo-- a blue laser beam.

    The music, not the flash, ruled, however.

     The teenage girl begged to know whether McCartney would play any old Beatles songs. "Debbie, is this going to be it?" she said. "Debbie, this is going to be it, isn't it?"  But Wings played the Beatles' "Blackbird", and although Debbie never told her friend whether this was "it," the teenager complained no more.

     Skipping skillfully from the Beatles era to the Wings era, the band allowed the pace to slow only briefly. The second and third standing ovations came back-to-back after McCartney's rendition of "Lady Madonna" and "The Long and Winding Road."

     Linda McCartney's harmonies blended perfectly with her husband's voice. Denny Laine bounced from his rhythm guitar to the bass and then to a piano, filling in wherever he was needed. Laine also provided some rock star hip wiggles.

     McCartney participated in much of the stage craziness. He egged the crowd into a roaring applause at the end of each song, while playing his current top 40 bonanza "Silly Love Songs." He sighted a balloon falling to the stage and kicked it back into the audience without missing a beat on his bass guitar, a feat that brought enthusiastic applause from the audience.

     In a more intimate moment, McCartney sat alone on stage with his six-string Ovation guitar. He drove the crowd to near madness when he said, "See if you remember this one."  He began the classic Lennon McCartney song "Yesterday."

     Several songs, two encores and one near miss with a bottle rocket later McCartney was gone. Daytonian Steve Klein, 24, had waited for nine hours with his date since 11:30am Thursday to get a seat to the 8pm show. "Hell with the Beatles getting back together," Klein said. "McCartney is making it on his own. He doesn't need those other guys." Dorothy Garrett, 19, Klein's date agreed.

Beatlemania 1966 in Cincinnati

 

Yesterday, I shared a letter sent to the "New Beatles Fan Club" about seeing the Beatles in concert in Toronto in 1966.  Today I am sharing another letter from the same newsletter, this one from an anonymous fan who saw the Beatles in Cincinnati in 1966.  It was originally published in 1976 but was written shortly after seeing the concert. 

    I got to the stadium about 11 o'clock and got in without any trouble. The show started almost on time, about a quarter after noon. Now, comes to the sad part. Well, part of it was sad. The DJ said there would be a slight delay and began to give out instructions again, but then the Beatles came out before he was done.

     Jen told me to watch Paul and that he was really outgoing in all of his actions. Well, something was wrong. I know it because the others ran on the field, but Paul walked, messing with his guitar all the way. He was last on the stage, and while the others acknowledged the audience and said hello and stuff, Paul was still quietly messing with his guitar. 

    Something hit me then, and it was someone named John Lennon. I was really worried about Paul, but John was so much fun to watch. He played mainly to our side and kept making faces at the kids in the balcony. I can't quite remember who introduced what, but I know John and George did a lot more talking than Jen said they did in Cleveland. Paul hardly smiled. He kept moving his mic back out of the sun while John was moving his out all the time. It was hot, and I have a sunburn to prove it!

     I think it was right after "Paperback Writer" that Paul put his fingers up to his eyes and squinted like he had a terrible headache. And then he bowed, and when he came up, he blew a real tired breath and shook his head wearily at John. I'm not exaggerating either. A couple of times, he was rubbing his eyes strangely. It was nerve-wracking.

     I wouldn't have believed it was George Harrison on the stage if the other three Beatles weren't there. I always thought he was the quiet type, but you should have seen him! It seemed like he was running around constantly. He introduced about four numbers with bits like "and here's a song we recorded about six years ago." Once he was standing beside John, and all of a sudden, he ran over to Paul's side and waved to everyone over there. He was the first one to say hi to the audience when he came on. Such an introvert! The funniest and most unexpected thing he did was during "Day Tripper. " He stood in the middle of the stage, planted his feet firmly on the floor, and wiggled his knees. I wish you'd have a talk with that boy!  He was really darling. Maybe he was trying to make up for what Paul wasn't doing.

     Paul didn't waltz and he didn't direct the others for "Nowhere Man."  Jen swears he was the one who ruined "If I Needed Someone", his harmony was so off! He wasn't all bad, though. "Long Tall Sally" was really tremendous, and so was "Yesterday", but he looked so dull singing it. His face looked really pale. 

    They wore their blue-and-red striped suits with blue-printed shirts and no ties. John wore big yellow-tinted sunglasses, and George wore greenish-tinted tiny oval ones. They had a big tent over them, and it was awfully hard to see Ringo. He looked good, though, or at least someone else I know thought so!

     They left in a blue car at the opposite side of the field, arms waving wildly out the window. There were only about three attempts to get on the field, and the only one I saw was a boy almost besides us jump over at the end, the police tackled him nicely. 

A hot night

 

My Cincinnati photos

 

The copyright to these photos belongs to Sara Schmidt and should not be shared without my permission.  Please be respectful. 

August 27, 1964 -

I collect original Beatles photos and negatives with copyright.   That is my Beatles thing.  I purchased these photos taken by a fan at the Beatles 1964 Cincinnati concert a while back and decided to share them today.   I love photos like these because you know that a fan who brought her own camera to a Beatles concert and was one of the many flashbulbs that went off during the show.   The photo she took of The Beatles isn't great, but it is them without a doubt and they are a little piece of the concert saved 60 years later.  

Here they come!

 

August 27, 1964 - Cincinnatti, Ohio 

Hot day in the sun

August 21, 1966

So handsome

Getting a photo with the Beatles

What a great way to get a photograph taken with all four Beatles, right?   

Besides the fact that this is a great photograph, my reason for posting this photo is to ask if any of you out there recognize this young fan?   Scott Belmer, the expert on the Beatles in Cincinnati is trying to figure out this mystery and I offered to post it here and see if any of you know.

The best guess is that it is the son of a newspaper photographer/reporter.  But who??    Leave a comment if you know his identity.

Questions, questions, questions

Taking a walk

Everyone wants a photo with the Beatles

August 27, 1964 - Cincinnati, Ohio

Protection from the blazing sun

Welcome to Cincinnati