This is an exclusive story written by disc jockey, Joe Mayer, for the 'With a Little Help From my Friends' fanzine. I contacted Pat, who was the editor of WALHFMF and asked for her permission to share this story with you all on this blog. She was very kind in allowing this exclusive to be shared and was confident that Joe (who passed away in the 1990's) would have agreed to share his story with another group of Beatle fans.
The Beatles-September 1964
Hi! This is Emperor
Joe Mayer from radio station 1220/WGAR in Cleveland, Ohio.
I was the morning disk jockey at radio station WHK in
Cleveland, Ohio in September 1964 when we brought the Fab Four Beatles for
their first appearance in the United States.
I’d like to share some of my thoughts, remembrances and my feelings of
that fantastic era of show business, including “that night” of their
performance at Cleveland’s Public Hall.
Before getting into it, I want to preface it all by saying
at that time I was just like all their teenage fans. Looking back on it now, I have to say
everyone at the radio station was in awe of the Beatles. They had taken England, Germany, Europe and
all of the United States by storm! Everyone spoke in hushed tones about the
fact that we were bringing in the Beatles—everyone wanted it to happen. We had signed them to a contract, and yet
couldn’t, or wouldn’t, believe it until they were here and on stage performing. It was a stroke of genius to be “the” station
to be first to bring the Beatles to Cleveland, and I was glad and proud as hell
to be a part of it. Nothing could
compare to it, not even Frank Sinatra or Elvis Presley. This was to be the biggest thing ever, and it
was! I can honestly say, there never has
been anything like it, and never will be.
The signing of the contract and all its details took months
and had started in the spring of ’64.
Once those formalities with Brian Epstein were worked out, the next big
thing was figuring out the details of how to make the tickets to the concert
available to the listeners; most importantly on how to do it fairly. Ticket sales, of course, were not a
problem. That simply was set up at a
certain time, place and on a first come, first served basis. The contest ticket winners were the
problem. That was finally solved by
putting all the names entered into a computer.
The computer simply “spit out” names at random. No set time or space. It was a “cold” way of doing it I guess, but
it sure took the element of human frailty and judgment out of it. By that I mean, there was no “hanky-panky”,
or dealing to ones friends. It also took
the jocks off the hook of being bugged for tickets, free, or otherwise. Reading the above over, I’m sure I’ve over simplified
things, but it covers some of the action that took place leading up to the
concert at Public Hall.
Promotion in two words was :
“No problem.” The Beatles
appearance in person, live, created all the excitement, publicity and word of
mouth, person to person advertising anyone needed or could ask for. It was a sellout as soon as I announced the
Beatles coming concert on my morning show, and there never was any let up!
The Beatles arrival was something else. It was like a scene form an Alfred Hitchcock
movie. Their arrival at Cleveland
Hopkins International Airport was to be secret.
The time and place both leaked out to their fans, but not the exact
location. Thousands of fans, curiosity
seekers, young and old, radio and television people, and just about anyone that
could make it, showed up at the airport and waited. However, they landed about two miles away
from the terminal, near the NASA building on the airport grounds. Their landing must have been done by
instruments only. When they landed, all
of the people from the radio station were in our own cars, plus some Limos for
the Beatles were standing by, and when the plane stopped, we pulled out onto
the field and formed a fairly good sized semi-circle and turned on the car
headlights. The passenger door opened,
the steps to the plane came down, and they were here---live! We could hardly believe it. It was fantastic! I still can’t get over it. Here, about three or four miles from my home
after all the hullabaloo, the Ed Sullivan Show, the Jack Parr show, the
Beatlemania they were here! It was
something else. The living end.
Then, the quick caravan trip to the Sheraton-Cleveland hotel
on Public Square. I can still feel the
moments of happiness, giddiness, elation and yes—silent shock. Public Square was jammed with bodies. Some of the limos and cars went to the front
entrance, and were swallowed up with fans.
Two of the limos went separately to the back, or service entrance, and
there quickly, quietly and as secretly as possible the important stars—the
Beatles and Miss Jackie DeShannon were all moved inside the hotel under heavy
police guard. If member serves me
correctly, there were a few teenagers in the area of the ack entrance looking
for ways to sneak into the hotel, but to this day I don’t’ think they really
realized who was being moved into the hotel.
That night was wild. The halls of the hotel were loaded with
guards. They had a job to do, and it was
to keep the fans, or kids, away from the Beatles. Somehow, some of the kids managed
to make it to the same floor, I believe we were on the seventh floor, but never
really made it inside the room. WHK had
a separate suite on the same floor, but I know hardly anyone was in it or used
it. We all wanted to be with the
Beatles. As I said earlier in the
article, we, the disk jockeys, were just as star struck as you the fans. So much happened in those hours, it’s almost
hard to remember it all.
As I said, I was the morning jock and had to be on the air
at six, but I sure didn’t want to miss a thing.
I remember the program director, the other jocks, the station manager,
and yes, even the Beatles saying I should hit the sack and get some sleep. No way man.
I stayed up. I remember lying
down on the floor of the suite, but I didn’t get any rest that was as there was
just too much going on. Sleep I could
get anytime, so I stayed p. The
adrenalin was really flowing. The Beatles
all had gone to in to freshen up after their flight to Cleveland, and when they
walked into the living room of the suite, once again the evening seemed like a
dream. We were all introduced around
again, since the airport greeting was quick and brief. Food and liquid refreshments were sent up to
the room and the conversations and fun began for all of us.
I remember they
really knew how to unwind. Man, the
drinks were stiff. John was drinking
water glass tumblers of scotch at that time.
He and I were sitting on the couch, and the others, Paul and George in
overstuffed chairs, with Ringo going form chair to floor to chair again. We talked of many things, their flight,
Cleveland, music, concerts, our radio station, their backgrounds, their
beginnings in Germany, England’s pirate radio stations, other rock groups like
the Stones, Dave Clark Five, Billy J. Kramer, Herman’s Hermits, Ed Sullivan and
the TV shows, Chuck Berry, Elvis, “birds” and of all things, religion. In fact, John and I got into a heavy
discussion about religious thinking and John’s beliefs, and when it’s tired out
and the scotch is flowing, one shouldn’t do that. We all discussed their free use of the four
letter word. That “word” by the way, is
a form of legal abbreviation used in their courts. I can say, we in the United States were
considered pretty staid or “prim,” and that that Mother Country, England, is
far freer and more broadminded in their thinking. We were (and may still be) really considered
very, very conservative in America.
One of our jocks had brought along his camera, and in the
middle of the evening took one flash picture. He, like the rest of us, was in awe and wanted
to take some casual pictures. NO
WAY. That one flash was it. There was some shouting and yelling, and if I
remember correctly Paul, George and Ringo got up and left the room (they came
back into the room about 10 minutes later).
The rule was NO pictures, and that ended that. It’s really a shame that we weren’t allowed
to take pictures, not necessarily candid to the point of embarrassment, but
casual “posed” pictures, but Brian had said no pictures and they had meant
it. It’s probably just as well though,
as sometimes candid shots can be misinterpreted or misconstrued. One picture I would like to have though was
when the oriental waitresses came up from the Kon-Tiki room in the hotel with
some food and beverages. I can tell you;
even then John had an eye for the oriental woman. Can’t blame him though, they were really
something else too! Anyway, in the wee
hours, about four or four-thirty in the morning, Paul, Ringo and George went
off to get some sleep. John finally
decided to go to sleep at about five in the morning. Me, I had to try and freshen up, leave the
Beatles, go on the air at six, hopefully sound good, and hope and pray the four
hours on the air would go by fast, and that nothing too exciting would happen
until I got back to the room.
Fortunately the four hours went fast. At ten I was off the air and on my way back
to the Beatles. It still didn’t seem
real. I felt like I was riding on cloud
nine. What an upper. There was a press conference scheduled and I
didn’t want to miss that. I made it.
While we were waiting for the Beatles to awaken (they slept
in late), we kept busy just hanging around the room taking to Brian, the band’s
roadies and some of the “groupies” that had been picked up along the way. I hadn’t talked to my wife for many hours, so
I decided to call home and report what was happening while they were still
sleeping. My wife, Ginny, was happy to know I was still alive and had followed most
of the happenings over radio, television and from other phone calls from other
people. She was going to the concert
that night, along with my brother, Bill, his wife, daughter and two of her girl
friends. After the phone call, some of
the Beatles (Paul and Ringo) were up and dressed and we all started to sail
paper airplanes out of the hotel room to the still thousands of kids hanging
around the hotel and public square. John
and George joined us later. I wonder if
any of the kids realize that some of the airplanes they may have caught and
threw away were actually made and thrown by their favorite fab four!
During this period of time, when they had gotten up and we
were all getting ready for the press conference, is when the Beatles
individually became members of “Emperor Joe’s Commandos.” There were “Emperors” in most of the major
radio markets in the United States. It
was started by a jock out in Los Angeles by the name of Bob Hudson, and later
was franchised to the number one rock jock in different markets. In Cleveland, that was me, so WHK had printed
up very official looking membership cards and certificates. In a fun-filled ceremony, I presented one to
George, John, Paul and Ringo individually.
It caused a good many laughs and comments from the guys.
One other thing that comes to mind is the thousands of plush
toys that had been given to me personally, both at the radio station and at my
home, to give to the Beatles. Actually,
I think I had two carloads (station wagons) full, that I had seen to it that
they were delivered to their hotel room and dressing room at public hall. Some of the larger and more unusual ones I
made sure were sent to their room. They
got quite a kick out of them but they really couldn’t take them with them. It’s a shame too, because some were very
large and expensive plush toys that the kids had bought for them. I’m sure they did take three or four with
them, but I really don’t’ know which ones.
Back to the press conference. We, the WHK jocks went down to the special
room set up for the conference. It was a
very limited audience that would be attending.
They were the very lucky kids from school newspapers, plus the writers
form Cleveland and Northeastern Ohio’s daily and weekly newspapers. We went in first, and after that seemed an
eternity, once again in walked the Beatles.
Cameras (permitted) appeared everywhere, and some quick posed and un-posed
shots were taken. There were some
professional photographers there too and some pictures did appear in the
Cleveland Plain Dealer and the Cleveland Press.
I know sat in each of the Beatles chairs, and pictures were being take,
but I have never seen any of those. Some
of the pictures of the press conference appeared on the front page of the Plain
Dealer, and there with the Beatles was Emperor Joe! Man, oh man, I sure was proud. I saw a copy of that picture at the recent
Ohio Beatle Convention and it sure brought back a flood of great memories. The conference was all too short for all of
us, even though it lasted quite a while.
There was a good deal of kidding amongst the Beatles throughout the
question and answer period, mostly about “birds” and Paul’s good looks. Let me tell you, he was more handsome in
person than even his pictures. Ringo was
like a friendly, loveable puppy; George was the quiet, serious one and John was
the one-line comedian with a touch of cynicism even then. To me then, and now, I think George has the
most individual longevity as a musician.
He really is talented. Paul was a
very close second, followed by John and then Ringo. That’s strictly a personal opinion, and I’m
sure open for debate.
Following the press conference, we all wound our way through
the crowd, with police escorts, and went back to the room. Somewhere in here I’m sure we ate, but for
the life of me I couldn’t’ tell you if we did or didn’t. It still was like a dream to all of us. Food and beverages came and went, and the
Beatles finally took some time for themselves and rested up for the
concert. The excitement and tension
continued to mount. We all knew the
lineup for the night. I was to introduce
Jackie DeShannon, the only girl traveling (officially) with them, and then
bring on The Beatles. God, I was getting
nervous.
It was a warm fall night; school had started, and all the
fall colors were everywhere. I remember
peeking out at the audience from behind the huge stage curtains, the colors
were fantastic and the place was jammed.
My wife commented later on that form her seat in the balcony above the
stage, “it was like looking at a sea of scattered, fallen leaves of red,
yellow, deep greens and golden hues.”
There was a great deal of noise, talk, hysterical girls screaming,
crying and occasionally becoming ill all over everything just form the sheer tension
and excitement.
I know there was a stand-up comedian on the bill that night,
but I can’t recall who he was. In fact,
I doubt whether many people could. Then
I introduced Jackie Deshannon. She was
good—great---but again, everyone was on pins and needles waiting for the
Beatles. She finished her encore and
received a great ovation. Then while we
waited for the Beatles roadies to get everything together they lowered a huge
sign that said, “WHK PRESENTS…THE BEATLES,”
we had to go out front of stage and try to fill time. We showed some of the items kids had sent in,
and one of the biggies at the time was a very, very long gum wrapper chain that
was given to the Beatles. No one wanted
to hear us. No one really cared. They wanted the Beatles. Then the chanting began, and the tension mounted
even further. There was a line of Cleveland Policemen in front of the
stage. I remember watching them from the
wings while the comedian was on, and when Jackie was singing. Most of them were intent on watching the show
too. The policemen were big men to their
children, and to their neighborhood children, because they were guarding the
Beatles. They enjoyed the glamor you
could tell, but they sure weren’t thrilled with the crowd control
responsibility.
Trying to control that audience, and getting them somewhat
quiet was no easy job. In fact, it never
really happened. It became a shouting
match, and all you could do was hope that you’d be heard over the mikes and the
big public hall sound system. Rhythmical
clapping…chanting…”We want the Beatles. We Want the Beatles…” Screaming.
“Paul I love you” “George George!”
“Ringo!” “John!” “We want the Beatles, we want the
Beatles.” It just kept building to a
feverish pitch. Somewhere amongst all
this noise was a fraction of a second and I screamed, “Ladies and Gentlemen—The
Beatles!!!”
What a helluva feeling.
The curtains parted, the gigantic sign, the fantastic sound of the
Beatles. It all was here! God it was
great. I want to tell you I have never
felt the likes of it before, and probably never will again. As I have said so many, many times since that
night, I honestly could feel a concussion of air from all the shouting,
screaming, yelling and applause. I
actually could feel the thrust of the pressure of air, it was just
fantastic. From then on, the public hall
looked like thousands and thousands of fireflies popping all over the
place. Flash cubes flashed all over the
hall from the highest places right down in the front row.
They played, they flirted, John did some crazy dance steps,
Paul winks, the cameras kept winking back, and the excitement built to such a
high emotional pitch that some of the fans could no longer contain themselves,
and I saw the line of policemen in the front begin to crumble as the audience
surged forward towards the stage. And
then the show was stopped by a Captain Blackwell of the Cleveland Police
Department. He was made. He was upset and I think he was also
scared. I saw it, and it was
frightening. It was a sea of kids
fighting, rushing, pushing, shoving, anything to get to touch their idols. If this kept up, someone would get hurt. I, along with some of the other jocks, were
literally thrown out on stage to try and help the police restore order. John had some words (heated) with Captain
Blackwell and the Captain threatened to close the show. I kept thinking, this would be a helluva way
to end, after all the pressure and tension, the worry and the months of
anticipation. I, along with everyone
else, including some of the policemen kept repeating the Captains threat of
closing the show. I think the police
caught good deal of abuse that night,
and many nights and concert to follow, but I can’t help feel it was bordering
on being dangerous to the point of someone or many being injured. And more important than anything, I did not
want the concert stopped. I wanted to
see the Beatles as much as most of the kids in the audience. I ended up pleading with anyone that could
hear me to quiet down or the show would be stopped. I was yelling into the mike. I was beginning to lose my voice. Then finally some semblance of order and
quiet (certainly not total) was restored, and the show was underway. God it was good.
In the back of my mind as I write this, I can still hear the
bass guitar, the drums, the harmony, the drive, the throb, the
reverberation. I can still hear the
Beatles. What a night.
Damn, it seemed over to quick. The shouting for more, the encores and
suddenly, it was all over. The curtain
closed, the roadies began dismantling the equipment, and there I was,
emotionally drained and yet high, wandering around the barren stage trying to
pick up the pieces of the biggest night in my life. I looked for anything. Broken guitar strings, broken drum sticks,
picks, anything. Anything to help keep
that night of nights alive. It sure was
a gas.
Gosh it felt empty.
Kids and people were still milling around both on the main floor and up
in the balcony seats. The sounds of the
Beatles kept ringing in my ears, the chanting, the encores, and the shouts for
more. But they had gone off the stage
and into a waiting van that whisked them back to the hotel and then quickly off
to the airport and to another chanting, Beatle crazed mob in another city.
It was all over. My
wife, Ginny, said she just sat there stunned, and then like the others; she
simply put her head down and cried. It
was that kind of night for everyone.
Thanks God for letting us be a part of it.
TTQD!~~60_57.jpg)
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