Jim Stagg's take on The Beatles

 

This week, I have been posting interviews that the Beatles gave to various U.S. disc jockeys for Datebook magazine during the 1965 North American tour.   The last one I have isn't an interview but more of a reflection written by Jim Stagg. 

Chicago's Jim Stagg, host of "The Stagg Line" on WCFL from 2 to 6 p.m. Monday through Friday, is generally ackowledged to be one of America's top D.J.'s. Before his DJ days, Jim sang on radio stations in Philadelphia, San Francisco, and Cleveland and even had his own album of songs -- 18 copies sold, according to Jim. And all to his mother.  Right now, Jim feels that protest music is "a good indication that young people are thinking more and more about today's problems and issues -- much more than my generation did." He's 30, by the way. 

Jim accompanied the Fab Four on their 1964 trip as well as the 1965 tour. Following are excerpts from Jim's interviews with the Boys as well as his personal impressions of them. 

Have the Beatles changed since the last tour? No, I don't think so. They're just as unassuming as ever. They reflect an air of satisfaction and contentment. They've arrived, and they're basking in the warmth of it. As George Harrison said, "We don't have to prove nothin' to nobody."

Regarding the controversy over their Order of the British Empire, John Lennon told me, "It's the highest honor we could ever achieve. All of the other people who received the medal got it because they killed other human beings. We have earned ours by entertaining them. Consequently, we deserve them more."

Has marriage changed Ringo? Ringo told me, "The most important element in marriage is a willingness to compromise." I think marriage has changed Ringo. He's a little more serious than he was, a little less flamboyant, and perhaps becomes irritated more quickly than he used to. He's still the same warm and sincere individual and perhaps the least assuming of the entire group. He doesn't put on airs. He's just plain Ringo.

I asked the Beatles, "Could any one of you alone be as big asd as successful by himself without the other three?"

They all agreed, "No, it could never happen."

But Ringo added, "If any one of us could ever achieve success by himself, it would be Paul McCartney. He's got the looks. He's got the best voice. And he's a talented songwriter. And besides all that, he's such a dolly!"

Hundreds of girls have asked me the same question. "Are the Beatles REALLY as nice and friendly as they look?"  My answer? Yes, dear little Beatleful girls.  They are not only nice and friendly, but they are perfect gentlemen until they are bugged! (You should pardon the expression)

For instance, they all but tear their famous moptops out when they are asked the following question by interviewers: "What are you going to do when The Bubble bursts?" And you can't blame them for being irritated at things like that - they're entitled to revolt. 

How do they feel about the latest fashions? Paul McCartney told me, "I like girls' skirts about the knee. Why shouldn't I? They've got such pretty knees!"

Gary interviews the other Beatles

 

More interviews from Disc Jockey, Gary Stevens during the 1965 Beatles tour in North America and Datebook magazine.

Gary: Which do you prefer - playing a few weeks in one theatre as you do in England or one-nighters as you do on tour here?

Paul: Well, actually, if you think about it, if we play one place here, it's the equivalent of playing two weeks in England because the theatres are so much bigger here. 

Gary: One of the newspapers last night had a story about you being about to marry Jane Asher. Is this just one more false report that you have to deny?

Paul: I never said it, but it's daft to deny it. That would just add to their story. They only write a story like that so that the next day, they can say, "Paul McCartney denies it."

Gary:  Some people say your style of music is changing. Do you find that you are doing more folk-style or country-western?

Paul: Not really.  We've done a few in country style, like "Honey Don't." On our last album, you might think we're going classical because we've a string quartet on it. But we just like doing a bit of everything that pleases us. 

Gary: how did you feel facing 55,000 people in Shea Stadium?

Paul: Not nervous about it. Even if we made a million mistakes, nobody would know about it. We just listen to them!

Gary: Do you feel that you're almost a prisoner in your hotel?

Paul: No, I quite enjoy hotels. And besides, all the people we like come to visit us, instead of us going to them. But I would quite fancy going for a walk sometimes. 

Gary: How is married life treating you?

Ringo: I enjoy married life. It's good fun.  Everyone should be married. 

Gary: Are you the boss?

Ringo: I think I am, but I'm not sure!

Gary: Do you have any pet names for your wife?

Ringo: No.  I just called her Maureen, Mo, or Midge.

Gary: How have people reacted to your marriage?

Ringo: Ninety-nine percent of the mail was good.  Everybody congratulated us. 

Gary: Are you nervous about the big crowds that mob you?

Ringo: the only thing you have to be careful of in a big crowd is that there are so many people.

Gary: you often steal the show when you're all together. Are you the natural comedian of the group?

Ringo: I don't think I'm funnier than anyone else. 

Gary: Are you going to get tired of making movies after a while?

Ringo: No. I don't think so. I enjoy it more and more.

Gary: Do you get tired of singing the same songs over and over at concerts?

Ringo: No. It's just like being a builder. They can't use a new style of brick every day. 

Gary: Do you think it was more fun on the way up than now?

Ringo: It wasn't fun when we were starving. But when we first had a number one records, that was great. Then we played the Palladium, and someone said you couldn't do any better than that. And then we did Carnegie Hall, and they said the same thing.  It's a very good coming up. 

Gary: Has having money changed you? Are you a different person now?

Ringo: Not really. But I know that people sometimes just talk to you because you are a Beatle, not a fellow. 

Gary: You're dressed casually in Levis spattered with paint.  What's the story behind all that paint, George?

George: I'm not an artist if that's what you're thinking. The paint is from my painting the walls of my house in England. 

Gary: Do you buy most of your clothes in England?

George: Yes, but there are some good clothing stores in the south of France, too. 

Gary: Do the Beatles usually take their vacations separately?

George: Yes, but I haven't had a holiday in a long time. 

Gary: George, you seem to have the longest hair of the Beatles. Was it always that way?

George: We all had much longer hair when we were first getting started. Brian Epstein had us cut our hair a bit and put on suits. But now our hair has started to grow back to normal again. 

Gary: Do you find that old friends react differently to you now that you are famous?

George: No. People who have been good friends are still good friends. They are amazed when we visit them, and they see we are still the same as ever. We haven't changed all that much. 

Gary: Do you get on well with other English groups?

George: If you were to go into one of the popuar English clubs at night, you'd probably see members of maybe eight groups who are all enjoying a laugh together. Like with the Aniumals and the Stones. People think we all hate each other, but that's not true. We're all in pretty much the same position, and talking about our work relaxes us. 

Gary: How do you feel about the tremendous effect you have on fans?

George: We don't want to be setting examples to people. We enjoy the music we play and the films we make, but we don't want to put ourselves on a pedestal and say we're gods now. We want to be normal and stay sane, and have a great time. 

Interivew with John

 

Just like the interview with George I posted yesterday, this is an interview with disc jockey Gary Stevens and John Lennon from Datebook magazine, published in 1965.   It occurred during the 1965 Beatles North American tour. 

New York's Gary Stevens is one of the youngest DJs in the Empire City, entertaining one of the nation's largest teen audiences from 7 through 11 p.m. every night on WMCA, the home of the "Good Guys." Gary shares the spotlight with his friend enemy, the Wooley-burger, which he calls "the world's most ferocious animal." According to Gary, "Listeners can tell by its growl that this is no beast to fool around with," but they can count on this lively character to serve as the foil for Gary's lively pranks. 

Before joining W.M.C.A., Gary DJ'd in Miami, St. Louis, and Detroit, where he also hosted a TV bandstand show. 

He's a Beatlemaniac from way back, even having vacationed with them in London. 

Following are excerpts from Gary Stevens' various exclusive interviews with the Fab Four. 

Gary: Do you feel that your audience has changed any?

John: Over all, it's probably grown a bit.

Gary: Is your audience growing up?

John: No, I think getting younger. The average age is about 13.

Gary: Is it easier to play for a lot of people than for a small group?

John: Yes. Nobody is going to know what we're doing. 

Gary: How is life for a Beatle in London? Are you always surrounded by fans?

John: We can go almost anywhere in the world as long as we go alone. If I leave the house, say, at 10 a.m. and go out to buy a pair of shoes - a few people will see me, but no big crowds with gather, and no press. 

Gary: you have the reputation of being the "intellectual" of the gorup. how do you react to fans' worship of the Beatles?

John: It looks like worship from the outside, but we really don't meet any fanatics. You know that the fans like you, but you never know how they really feel.

Gary: It has been said that you fellows don't take yourselves seriously. Is that true?

John: No, we couldn't. If we did, we'd start thinking we were gods or something.

Gary: Do you get nervous when fans charge at you?

John: Not too. As you know, our security is pretty amazing. 

Gary: If you could say one little thing to your fans, what would you say?

John: What I'm saying now.  I don't think of them as a mass. If I were talking to one of them, I'd find out what she wanted to know. I wouldn't just say "Hi, thanks for buying my records." Maybe she likes us and doesn't buy our records.

Gary: Does acting come naturally to you? Do you have a dramatic coach?

John: No, we don't. They just give us lines, and they try to make it look like we're acting. Half the time, we don't look at the script. We do it on the spot, and it requires many takes. I didn't even know what our two films were about until I saw them. 

Gary: Do you like to listen to your own singing?

John: I like to listen to our new records.

Gary: Are you a perfectionist?

John: No!

George and Drew (Datebook inteview from 1965)

 

This interview was posted in Datebook magazine in 1965 after the Beatles 1965 N. American tour.  

Atlanta's Paul Drew, one of the most influential disc jockeys in the nation, has been the mainstay of WQZI's talk-and-music schedule since he took over in 1963. With his straight-from-the-shoulder, no-kidding-around approach, Paul has managed to garner the enthusiasm of both teenagers and adults in and around Atlanta on weekdays from 7 to 11p.m. and Saturday from 6 p.m. to midnight.  The kids really listen to what "Paulie" has to say on station "QUIXIE" because they know he's a phony baiter from way back.  On his show, you can hear the latest in pop as well as authentic regional music. Paul Drew's favorite composers? Paul McC and John L. 

Paul traveled with the Beatles on both their American trips.  Following are excerpts from the series of interviews he had with the Beatles as he accompanied them on their last tour. 

Drew: Who is Steve Bimbo and the Alligators?  I heard you mention him yesterday. 

George: Steve Bimbo is nobody.

Drew:  Who made it up?

Geroge: John. It's one of these things that we do if somebody is having a discussion or talking about something.  And one of us just doesn't quite catch a name and says who, and the other one, instead of telling him the name, he'll make the name up, and that's what John did the other day. 

Drew: Oh, this is a brand new joke from yesterday?

George: You see, I was drying my hair with a weird hair dryer that actually shook my head so that I couldn't hear what everybody was talking about, so I kept sticking my head out, saying "Who" or "What?" And every time I do, John would say, "Steve Bimbo and the Alligators." Just a little joke, you know. 

Drew: Have you done any shopping for any of your friends in England since you've been in America?

George: No, we're all slow. We just bought a few T-shirts and hats, but you know we haven't bought anything spectacular; all we bought was a portable radio, you know, a transistor.  We usually have to get somebody to come down from the shop and bring everything he has, and then we end up buying quite a bit of stuff. But you know, there's nothing really that we can think of that we want. 

Drew: And I guess it does take some of the fun away not to be able to go out and buy it yourself?

George: Yes that's the thing, 'cause you know I like going in a shop and then seeing something and then buying it. for us, we've got to know what we want beforehand and send for it. But when somebody who owns a shop brings down a whole lot of stuff, he usually brings stuff that we never thought of, but we like, you know.

Drew: I notice you have a comb in your pocket, do you comb your hair much? Or do you just usually let it lay naturally?

George: Well, I just usually comb it when I get up in the morning, trying to get it going right. Because it's usually like a tree when I wake up in the morning. Then I comb it before I go on to the show. 

Drew: Have you had a haircut since you've been on this tour?

George: I clipped a bit off of it myself last night. 

Drew: What did you do with the locks? Everyone will be interested.

George: I wrapped it up in a few pieces of tissue and threw it down the toilet. 

Drew: Shame on you. Those poor fans who'd like to have a lock of your hair!

George: Never mind.

Drew: Any particular reason why you don't sing one of your two songs on the American tour?

George: Yes. We like to do songs that are older ones that people know more about. You know, it's bad enough for them trying to hear what we're doing as it is. At least if they know the song, then they don't worry about hearing it as much. you know they can all join in or do what they like. 

Drew: If you could play, just for the fun of it, with any other group of your choosing, just say the other Beatles would say, "Go ahead, George, have a ball, go play with such and such, and give it a good go." Not professionally, and not for a future, but jsut for the fun of it, who would you like to sit in with?

George: I don't know. I'd like to sit in with the Byrds I think.

Drew: Have you ever done this, sat in with another group?

Geroge: Yes. Last trip to America. LAst year we ended up in Key West 'cause we couldn't land in Jacksonville because of the hurricane, and we stayed in a little motel there, and the Bill Black combo was on the trip with us, set up the equipment in the bar, and later when everybody had gone home, we had a sssion, just on our own, and it was nice.  I never enjoyed playing so much for ages. It was great. 

Teens Interview Mary Hopkin

Here is a nice fan story about meeting Apple artist, Mary Hopkin.  It was from the November 1969 issue of Datebook magazine as part of their "Teens Interview" column.   

Photos were taken by Marianne Nicoletti

Teen Interview with Mary Hopkin
by Ingrid Annoust Lancelot (Brox, NY)

Mary Hopkin exits from backstage of the Ed Sullivan Theatre in all ebullience.  Her eyes are liquid sapphires; her teeth are of sparkling ivory; her lips, red, soft and shiny bedazzle her perpetual smile.  Her hair, longish and poetic, gloriously contours her pearly face with the radiance of flaxen gold.  She is petite, almost delicate and hauntingly reminiscent of a porcelain figurine.

Like bees around the fairest orange blossom, the crowd swarms around the legend form Pontardawe for a glance, a touch, and perhaps an autograph.  She is graciously obliging, blushing now and then at compliments.  This fact has not been overrated.  Blushing just happens naturally with Mary Hopkin.  Cameras flash here and there as Mary gracefully evades the embrace of an old man.   she is courteous to all, taking great pain to sign each and every piece of paper.  She is not enerved or impatient.  One gets the impression that she understands how much this means to a far:  she's been through it herself.  All around her are delightfully amazed, "How beautiful she is!" exclaims a middle-aged woman.  "She's cool!" acquiesces a long hair fellow.  Someone tells her how great she was on the show.  "Oh, really?  Thank you!" replies Mary as she signs another autograph.  She is doing well considering the fact that her arms are laden with her guitar and valise.

Meanwhile, her manager, Stanley Sharrington, tries to call her attention to the fact that almost half an hour as gone by and she has a busy schedule to keep.  So Mary Hopkin attempts to slip by unnoticed; but then, a group of hippies spot her and have something terribly important to tell her.  She is delayed once more.  Finally, her manager invites them to the hotel.  There is no big limousine waiting, no security.  Mary Hopkin carries her instrument herself and walks up Broadway and Seventh Avenue in the most natural manner.  There is no sophistication about her.  She is not a put on.  Mary Hopkin is for real.

A few days pass by and Mary Hopkin begins her engagement at the Royal Box of the Americans.  She finds the atmosphere of the club a bit frightening.  "They're right on top of you... I'd rather just be sitting in the audience and have someone say, 'Oh, come on, Mary, sing something!'"

Mary Hopkin insists that she still is the same ordinary girl she was before it all happened.  It all began when a mysterious telegram arrived from London asking Mary Hopkin to call a Peter  Brown, collect.  He turned out to have been Paul McCartney, after all, asking her to come to London to record.  The rest, of course, is history.  The fact that she is everybody's darling is somewhat of a surprise to her.  "I don't deserve it...I'm just an ordinary girl who likes singing."

The only thing ordinary about Mary Hopkin is perhaps her childhood.  At fourteen, she received her first guitar from her grandmother, took an interest in folk music and made a fifty-mile journey every Saturday to take singing lessons in Swansea.  She later became the vocalist of a trio of neighborhood boys.  ("I wanted to save enough money for a trip to Scandinavia.") When the trio broke up, they urged her to go on her own, and she did continuing to play in the Working Men's clubs in Cardiff, a Welsh town, risking expulsion from high school.   She left in her last year, anyway, because with an Apple contract in hand, the dull facts and figures of music and English classes we no longer relevant to her future.  "I never go the beauty of them," she explains.

So time runs short and the rest of the interview cannot possibly be scheduled.  The Hopkin family arrives to New York on Friday, June 13, and of course, Mary's time is taken up showing them the town.  In the faint hope of continuing the interview in spite of all, you present yourself on the floor of the Hopkin suite at 11:30 pm on Tuesday evening.  They are all out.  Just when you are about to give up hope, the elevator door opens to reveal Stanley Sharrington and Carol Hopkin, apparently coming from a festivity of some sort.  He recognizes you and greets you, apologizing you and greets you, apologizing for any inconvience you might have had.


Carol Hopkin looks on with an air of bewilderment.  After introductions, she excuses herself, "I have some packing to do..."  you ask her if she would like to pose for a picture.  She politely refuses.  "I'd rather not.  Mary's the one with all the talent.  I don't even sing!"

One cannot notice the quite composure about her, too.  She exits.  Mr. Sharrington explains that Mary went to a show, but that she should be up any minute -- and then excuses himself too; he has some packing to do.  Finally, Miss Hopkin appears.  She smiles.  you know that she is tired and to force an interview on her now would be a crime.  She appreciates the fact that you don't and invites you to interview her on the way to the airport.  To disturb her so early the next morning is out of the question.  So she promises the interview in September when she returns to New York after having toured South America and Japan.  you thank her and say goodnight.  you wish her the best.  But then, what else could you wish Mary Hopkin?

MTBFR 10 year flashback: The Best Day of my life (repost)

2019 marks the 10th anniversary of Meet the Beatles...for Real.     I have some special things planned to mark the big day.   For the next 10 Thursdays, I am going to dip into the files and post some of my favorite Beatles stories that haven't gotten very much attention over the years and I think need to be looked at again.      

The first one was originally posted on August 9, 2009.  It is the story of Pattie Emerson meeting George at Kinfauns.   It was found in a 1969 issue of Datebook magazine. 

The Best Day of my Life
By Pattie Emerson, 14, McKinley Junior H.S.
Flint, Michigan


Monday, July 31, 1967, was the best day of my life. That day I met George Harrison. Wendy, Betty and I planned this excursion to Esher for quite awhile. All of the Beatles were supposed to be Athens. You should have
seen us when we read that George and Pattie had landed in London the day before!

We arrived at George’s house at about 10:30, took pictures and movies, and bashfully went to the front door. Betts and Wendy saw someone walk by inside. I was too busy taking movies through the mail slot. I
knocked almost inaudibly on the door and Pattie answered. We asked about George and how her vacation in Greece was. She had just gotten up and wasn’t dressed, and kept hiding behind the door. She said we should come back in the afternoon when George would be there. We asked if he would mind and she said, “oh no!” She was very nice. 

We then went to John’s where we had to stare down with the gardener. We were taking pictures and movies while he was inside asking permission for us. He said John was to be away three weeks so I left my book of poetry with him along with a hurried note to John. (John was home that night. Someone there told us a lie!).

We then left John’s for Ringo’s. When we started to walk towards the backyard via the flowery wall, a woman knocked from an upstairs window, motioning for us to leave. So we did.

We ate lunch at the Bear Inn in Esher (where I had trouble eating knowing we would meet George that afternoon).

We arrived back at George’s a little before 3:30 and stood at the door, waiting for something. We saw George walk past the window, heard him cough and the telephone ring. Then we heard the clock strike half-past. Reading the sign, “doorbell push”, I did and out popped George. I wasn’t scared, but I said, “Do you want to make me cry?” for lack of something intelligent to say. And George replied thoughtfully and seriously, “I don’t want to make you do anything.” That did it. I no longer thought of him as George Harrison, famous person, but as a friend, which he is. He talked to us for over three-quarters of an hour about religion, love, life, music – everything. He said he enjoyed talking with us and he wished he could spend some time with everyone in the
world.

I gave him some beads and the Sgt. Pepper handshake – well never mind. I took movies of George doing the Charleston with my beads.

I’ve never met a man so intelligent and understanding. He seemed to have the answer for everything. He was very funny too. He laughed when I told him I was taking TWA home the next day. I found out the next day he left London for the States at the same time on Pan Am. He recommended a book for me to read, The Autobiography of a Yogi, which if you find it (which isn’t likely) please sent it to me.

George’s front door is a riot! So is the whole house! There are little clippings painted on like “do you want to play like the pro’s?” and “those who enter must beware” and “Front Door”. His living room is what
I’d call Indian Modern. It’s pretty anyway! There was a big white teddy bear on the sofa and beautiful things all over the place. Another surprise was the laundry hanging on the line. I guess they don’t’ have a dryer.

I can’t explain how nice George was. He just talked to us like old friends. He made me realize so much about the world. I’ll never forget him or what he’s done for me. I love him like he loves me and everyone else in the world. He really does. This isn’t just something he says. He believes it, and talking with him made me realize
this.

When we left he said, “Be seein’ ya!” and he meant it. He will. Maybe next year, I hope because I just have to visit this wonderful man again.

Another installment of Girls that met the Beatles from Datebook

All photos taken by Vicki Hessel 

Fans that Got to Meet the Beatles (Los Angeles)

By Vicki Hessel

Los Angeles, California:  Even standing there among the photographers in the crowded room on the first floor of the Capitol Records building, I didn’t believe it.  I wasn’t quite sure why I was there, but it just couldn’t be for a Beatles press conference!  I didn’t even feel excited, just tense.

But there was Tony Barrow saying, “The Beatles are on their way.  We’ll have all the photographers come up along the front here for five minutes of still photos.  Then, after the questions, we’ll ask you all to leave so the television equipment can be set up.” 

Surrounded by professionals with their complex cameras and equipment, I lifted my little “Flashfun” with a bulb and was ready.  I’d moved pretty close to the front of the room.  Being 5’1” often has advantages.

Suddenly there was screaming from an opened side door.  Photographers clicked frantically at whatever their huge bodies were hiding from me.  Being 5’1” doesn’t ALWAYS have advantages.  Then I saw the Beatles – casually dressed, laughing, waving and reaching for ciggies.  I touched the man in front of me.  “I’m short,”  I said against the noise.  “You can shoot right over my head.”   He smiled and helped me squeeze in front of him.  Sardinesville.    I was crushed by shoving bodies and swinging camera equipment.  I managed to snap some pictures over the shoulders.

After a bit, I found myself in front.  The boys were on a small platform with a red drape background.  I clicked, ejected and replaced the flash bulb, rolled the film, and then shot again as the boys grinned, waved, looked this way and that.  Then my twelve pictures were gone, and the photographers were being moved back to the sidelines.  When we were finally contained behind a sawhorse, I found I was still in front, crushed against a very tall photographer who plainly wished nineteen-year-old girl reporters with “flashfun” cameras had never been born (or at least released from their cages).  Sitting about three feet from me was U.N.C.L.E.  Robert Vaughn, and near the boys was Dave of the Byrds. 

The Beatles were seated on their swivel stools.  John swung joyously about on his throughout the conference.  George, wearing a brown suede jacket over a white silk shirt tuck into scuzzy blue jeans sat nearest me…my beloved Paul in white Levis and a grey shirt with black pinstripes, John, in a black jersey shirt and dark-cinnamon colored suit, and Ringo in blue and white striped pants, blue print shirt and white jacket.

During the first few questions, Paul accidentally pulled the cord from his microphone.  Making his “oops” face, he tried to fix it, looking about in embarrassment.  George, the electrician finally leaned over and fixed it.

Q: An English designer has said that miniskirts aren’t popular in America because American woman have ugly legs.

Ringo:  If they don’t’ wear miniskirts, how can you tell if their legs are ugly?

George and produced a coke from somewhere and was drinking it.

Q:  A recent Time magazine article said “Day Tripper” was about a prostitute and “Norwegian Wood” was about a lesbian.  What was your intent?

Paul:  We were just trying to write songs about prostitutes and lesbians, y’know?

Q: do you have much trouble getting around?  Can you go to the movies?

Paul:  In England we can ‘cause we know England.

Ringo:  But when we’re in America, we’re on tour, everything’s advertised, and that’s why everybody knows where we are.

The others turned in mock surprise, John slapped his legs and exclaimed in one of his many voices, “Oh!  Is that why everyone knows where we are?”

Q: John, did you meet Cass of the Mamas and Papas?

John:  Yes.  She’s great.  I’ m seeing her some nights.

Q:  What is your most exciting or disappointing experience?

George:  I think Manila was the most disappointing.

Q:  I’d like to address this next question to George.

John:  Yeah, George what’s your new address?

Q:  You recently made a statement about coming to America to be beaten up…

George:  Oh, that was after Manila and someone said, “What are you going to do now?” and I said, “We’re going to rest up before we go get beaten up by the Americans.”  By beaten up, I meant…

John:  jostled

George:  Yeah, jostled.

Paul:  Anyway, we aren’t beaten up by fans.

George:  Yeah.  There’s been a lot said about fans.  All the ones we lost we really don’t mind.  If they can’t make up their minds, who needs ‘em?

Q:  About those Beatles bonfires…

John:  We missed ‘em.

One of the adult newsmen, irritated by the number of young girl reporter present, asked John if they were always so blessed by “would be” reporters.

John:  You can’t always tell the would-bes from the real ones.

It ended too soon and people started leaving as the TV equipment was readied.  Photographers were free to take more pictures.  I didn’t have any film left, but I went forward anyway.  After a moment, I found myself in front of the Fab Four and still unable to believe it.  I waited until Paul had finished speaking to a man, then I called, “Paul!”  And held out my hand, unable to say “can I shake your hand?”

He stared at me for a second and then a smile burst across his face and he was leaning down toward me.  His hand, strong and wonderful caught mine and shook it vigorously and my favorite face was looking at me as it grinned and said, “How do you do?  Glad to meecha!”  I had no answer ready and was unable to say a thing.  I hoped desperately that  I was smiling back at him but he seemed to understand.  Then he stepped back with the others.

Still feeling like an embarrassed idiot, I glanced to my left at the small table before George’s microphone.  There stood his half-empty Coke bottle.  I fought a mental battle and decided:  Yes, I was silly enough to want the bottle as a souvenir.  But I couldn’t just walk off with it.  I’d have hated for George to see me leaving with it, especially if he were still thirsty.

“George!”  I called.  He looked my way.   “Can I have your Coke?”  He shrugged and nodded, saying, “Yeah sure.”  I captured my prize and left the stuffy room feeling very happy.

I guess what impressed me the most was that they were so much nicer than I’d expected them to be.  They weren’t sarcastic or irritable, even when asked the most stupid questions.  They really seemed to be enjoying themselves.  They were friendly, polite, pleasant, bouncy, and funny, willing to follow the photographers’ zaniest suggestions.

John’s face looking learner; he seemed to be the most alert, answering most of the question quickly, often supplemented by a remark by Paul.  George was very casual and thoughtful and smoked a lot; he seemed to be the most concerned about the Manila flap.  Ringo, sweet and cuddly, smiled a lot and was rather quiet.  Paul was a clown, lively but innocent looking with his lazy eyes and lightning wit.

Their best treatment was for their fans, the girls who had managed somehow to get there, and who wanted to shake hands or get an autograph or collect a Coke bottle.  That famous Coke bottle?  Of course, I still have it.  It’ll make the most precious pop-art vase in all California.

Girls that met the Beatles in Portland '65

I really enjoy the stories from Datebook magazine written by girls that met the Beatles during their North American tour.    Great information and fun stories.   These two from Portland come from the Spring 1966 issue of Datebook.  Enjoy!

Girls who met the Beatles

Georgia King

Portland, Oregon

We were led down one of the corridors and then were told to stop in front of the concession stand.  The janitor slid back a panel in the wall.  How clever!  Hidden doors, no less.  The hidden door was unlocked to reveal a flight of stairs.  We went down these and into a hall where we could plainly hear showers running.  We were told that the Beatles were cleaning up before they came to see us.

We were ushered into the press room, where I seated myself as close as I could get to the front, which was the third row.  I was feeling very pleased about how cool and calm I felt.

While I was pondering the merits of sophistication, Ringo Starr made his way to the table.  It was 6:00 PM on August 22, 1965.  I looked up, choked down my tears of fright and surprise, and tried to say hello and proceeded to the other end of the table where he took a seat.

Next came George, who said, “hi” before I could get out the first squeak..   He grinned at nothing in general, and sat down next to Ringo.

When John Lennon came in, the hot press room immediately was overcome with the chill of something hostile.  He gave everyone a look of disdain, and then sat down and proceeded to stare at me as if to wonder why they had let someone as insignificant as me get so close to him.

Paul came in and sat right down across the table from me, and brought back a little of the sunshine that Lennon had so rudely taken.  I put my camera around my neck, and extended my hand.  Paul took it and began to chat as I attempted unsuccessfully to take pictures with one hand.  Our short but interesting conversation went like this:

“Hello there, what is your name?”

“Georginia---uh---I’m here for Datebook.”

“Oh?”

“Are you tired Paul?”

“Yes, just a little.  These one night stands are rough.”

Then Paul knocked me off my feet by saying, “Your hair’s awful nice without all that hair lacquer in it.”  Then he asked me to please not ‘flash’ for a while, for my bulbs were blinding him.

Then someone told the photographers to sit down, so the questions could begin.

Reporter:  It is true that a stewardess broke up a pillow fight on the plane when she was hit on the head?

George:  Ahem—I’m not sure that was where she was hit, but we did quit.

Reporter:  What are your religious beliefs?

John:  We neither believe nor disbelieve.  We are agnostic.

Reporter:  There is a pamphlet stating that you are communists.

Paul:  Us Communists?   I’ve just gotta read that one.

Reporter:  Is it true that there is a feud in the group?

Paul:  Rubbish, I read that article too.

John to Paul: You shouldn’t even read trash like that.

Reporter:  John, is it true that you were not home for the third year in a row on your anniversary?

John:  Why should  I have been?  Birthdays and such are a lot of rubbish.  We don’t’ have birthday celebrations or anything like that.  Don’t even bother with them.  Besides that my wife is in Libya and I couldn’t see her if I was home.

Reporter:  George, is it true that you are going to wed Pattie Boyd?

George:  Where’d you read trash like that?

Reporter:  In the magazine I work for.

George:  Tell your editor he prints a lot of rubbish.

Reporter:  Ringo, is it true that your wife has gotten her hair cut off?

Ringo:  No, the woman just keeps wearing it up on her head.

At this point the press officer stepped up and said that would have to be all.  I ran to the table again.  Paul grabbed my hand, shook it, and said good-bye.  They all trooped out.

I called to Ringo to please come back and let me touch him.  He was told by a guard not to but shoved the guard aside and came back anyway.  He shook my hand, and smiled warmly.  He departed with these words, “Be good and don’t cry for us.  We’ve decided to come back next year.”  (So there, Derek Taylor).

After I had gotten home and had a good cry.  I had a chance to form an opinion about each Beatle.  Ringo Starr is without a doubt the most unaffected by the fame.  He is very down to earth, and really like you and me.

I couldn’t quite make up my mind about George because he is so quiet, but he seemed to be all right.

John Lennon I’d rather not say anything about except that he is definitely not my type.  He is cynical, and complex.  I don’t understand him one little bit, and I’ve decided not to try to.

Paul is just wonderful.  He reminds me of the typical boy next door.  He’s very handsome, and also very kind.  He puts you right at your ease.  Of course, he is very intelligent, as are all the Beatles, John especially—he acts as though he is far too brilliant to associate with the human race.

Cathi Sellards

A crowd of about 200 were standing around the employee’s entrance at the Memorial Coliseum awaiting the arrival of the Beatles.  It was in the middle of the whole thing.  Policemen were everywhere and busloads more were coming  Finally, a motorcycle escort came roaring up, closing followed by a nine passenger station wagon.  Between two bobbing heads, I caught a glimpse of John’s grinning face with his sunglasses balanced on his nose, a black flat hat on his head.

After a moving concert, during which five girls fainted, I headed back to the employee’s entrance.  The police still blocked the doors.

One girl jumped the barrier and ran to the door.  It was locked.  It was pathetic to see her pounding on the door in vain.

Some of the police made a great mistake and opened that door only a few inches.  About 100 of us jumped the barrier and surged toward the door.  A tug of war between the police and kids began.  I and about eight other kids headed for the second door.  The boy next to me pried the door open a few inches.  I immediately stuck my foot in.  We had succeeded!  Eleven kids got in before the police shut the door.

It didn’t’ take long to locate the Beatles, with the police in hot pursuit.  We rushed up to them, all talking at once.  I shook hands with Paul and touched the rest in the process of getting their autographs.  We talked to them briefly.

Girl:  Are you going to stay in Portland tonight?

Paul:  No.

Me:  Are you coming back to America?

George:  I’m not sure.  You’d have to ask our manager.

Me:  May I have your autographs?

John:  I guess so, since you fought your way in here.

John still had on his flat hat.  He looked rather angry.  Ringo seemed a bit afraid of the fans.  George was tanned and grinning.  Paul was flirting and winking at the girls.

The police finally pushed us all out.  But they let us collect all four autographs first.

Outside we were met with shouts of jeers from the poor people who didn’t get in.  Eight girls pounced me and asked if I had touched the Beatles.

It was only then that I realized I had touched them and had been with them for about ten minutes.  Suddenly I felt very weak and decided I’d better go home.

The Beatles I know

Sometimes it is fun to read a teenager in the 1960's story of meeting one of the Beatles.  I like them because they were written at the time and not written many years later when the fan grew into an adult and remembered the meeting.   The stories always have such different details (such as what socks Paul was wearing) and are so dramatic!   

This is an encounter a lucky teenager had in 1964 in San Francisco.  Paul was very kind to allow them into the room with the reporter as I think the reporter was annoying and the girls scared him some.

This was from the Summer 1965 issue of Datebook magazine. 

John arriving at the Hilton in San Francisco 

Fan climbing the fire escape to see the Beatles at the Hilton in San Francisco

Is this a shot of Paul seeing Sue holding up her autograph in the audience?

The Beatles I know

By Sue Ferrel (age 15)

Datebook magazine Summer 1965

The mention of the word Paul brings back beautiful memories.  Memories of a day I met him face to face, touched him, talked with him.  I was in such a trance I could hardly talk, but just stared into those big beautiful brown eyes.  But, I guess I’d better start at the beginning.

San Francisco was the first stop of the Beatles 30 day tour.  They arrived at the airport on the evening of Tuesday, August 18.  Since it was against my parents’ wishes, I did not greet them upon their arrival.  My friends and I were very excited about getting to see them because it had been four months since we purchased the tickets to their performance.

At about 11a.m. Jean, Joby, Chris and I arrived at the Hilton Hotel where the Beatles had just spent the night.  We went up and down the elevators and exit stairs.  We could go anywhere except the 15^th floor.  Guess who was staying there?!  Our attempts to rush the guards all failed.  We thought of climbing the fire escape or renting maids’ costumes, but we knew this wouldn’t work.

We were going along the side of the hotel opposite from where the big crowds were, when we saw a few girls screaming.  WE looked up to the window to see a Beatle sitting with his back against it.  When he turned around and waved, we knew it was Ringo!

Then, we started talking to a woman who was having her lunch break and it turned out she was a reporter on a San Francisco newspaper.  She told us how she met Elvis, Kookie, Connie Francis and others.  She had a note from the promoter authorizing her to interview the Beatles.  We begged her to take us with her and soon we were on the 15^th floor, handing the note to the guard who looked suspicious since he had seen us before.  Eh read it and then handed it to a woman who was a security guard, who in turn read it.  She told us to wait there and she proceeded down the hall.

My heart was pounding so hard it was about to burst just from the thought that I was on the same floor with the Beatles.  The lady was gone for a long time and we found out later that she had taken the note to Paul who said to bring us in.  She told us to follow her and when we came to the end of the hall she knocked on a door.  There were other people around the door – a chambermaid, a photographer, a janitor, etc.  Everyone kept saying, “don’t scream or you can’t go in!”

I thought “Are the Beatles really in there?” I was sure it would prove to be a manager or the police or almost anybody else.

After a minute, the door opened and out popped a head that could never be mistaken – the head of Paul McCartney! I had never failed in my life, but at that moment I felt from close t doing it.  He just said, “Girls?  Girls, come on in girls!”  I was in such a state of shock I could hardly believe he was real.

As we walked through the doorway, I noticed that the room was very small. I saw an open suitcase on the floor and the room seemed a bit messy.  Obviously, they had just gotten up.  The bed covers were all crumpled and the leftovers of their breakfast were on the table.

Paul went behind the table as we came in on the other side. He then leaned over and said hello and shook hands with each of us.  When he took my hand in his firm grasp, I felt a charge shoot through me. I was on the verge of crying and his big brown eyes seemed to be laughing at me.  I opened my mouth to say “Hi” but it came out more like a croak.

Paul then asked us to sit down so we sat on the bed and he took a chair.  Paul’s wavy brown hair was hanging straight over his forehead, not bushed to the side.  He was wearing a lavender shirt and tight black and white tweed pants.  He looked even more slender than I had thought he was.  I saw that he had on black socks and black leather shoes, with buckles on the top.

Our reporter friend told Paul that she thought that the Beatles records were improving.  He said, “thanks” but looked a bit hurt.  We all laughed and said we thought their records had always been the best.  The reporter then said something about how she used to be in some Elvis fan club.  I groaned.  Paul’s twinkling eyes shot towards me and he laughed.

I was in such a trance that I just couldn’t talk although there were millions of things I wished I could ask hm.  “Would you like to see my jumping beans?” said Paul, trying to start a conversation.  “They’re Mexican jumping beans!”  He seemed excited as though he had never seen any before.  So we said, “Sure!”  But when he looked on top fo the table and didn’t seem them, he exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, they’re not here.  They must have jumped all over the place!”  Someone then pointed them out in a plastic box and he remembered, “Oh yeah, I put them in the box” and he picked it up.

The reporter said, “Do you know what is in them…worms!”  As Paul turned and dropped the box, he twisted up his face and said “ick.”  He looked so cute!

As we talked, we learned that the Beatles would not get to see any of San Francisco because they couldn’t get away, although John and Ringo had slipped out in the middle of the night.  Paul explained that their manager planned all their schedules and it would be nicer if they could have more free time in some places.

Jean asked Paul if they would be having any rehearsals before their show, and Paul exclaimed, “Oh no, we never rehearse.  We’re too lazy.”

Joby asked where the other Beatles were and Paul replied that Ringo and John were in the service showers.  He didn’t mention George so I don’t know whether he was clean or not!

Once Jean got up to look out the window (under which a pair of famous Beatle boots were sitting) and I followed.  Just as I caught a glimpse of the tops of the fans’ heads, Paul yelled, “don’t go near the windows!  Get away, get away!”  As we came away he said more calmly, “You know how those fans are.  They’ll go crazy if they see anyone.”  I don’t know whether he was tired of the screaming or whether he was worried for our safety, because if they had seen us we might have been torn apart when we left.  As it was, nobody believed that we had seen him.

We also learned that they would be making a new movie in February and that Paul’s home in Liverpool was in Allerton, although it came out more like Alison through his thick accent.  Paul didn’t seem to excited when the reporter told him that he looked like her two year old daughter.

Chris then asked Paul how long their Cow Palace performance was going to be.  When he replied, “About half and hour,” we all sighed disappointment.  I begged him, “Please, please do more!”  Paul replied sympathetically, “Oh a half hour’s a lot of singing.  Besides we’re too lazy.”  I don’t think they’re really lazy but their shows must take a lot out of them.

The reporter said, “As long as we’re here, we should get some autographs.”  Paul said okay, so we all dug in our purses to find something suitable to write on.  The night before, I’d put John Lennon’s book in my purse what we all thought to be a silly idea that I might get close enough for him to sign it.  He didn’t sign it but Paul did and that’s just as unbelievable.   It says on the first page:  “To Sue, love Paul McCartney.”  The ink smeared in one spot and there is his fingerprint where he touched it.

The reporter asked him for autographs for all her friends and Paul said, “Aw come on, luv!”  He said he had to hurry because they were due for a radio interview.  I think he was lying but I guess he was tired of us.

The reporter asked him if he had heard the Beatle jokes making the rounds and when he said no, she told some to him.  They weren’t very nice and Paul did not like them.  He said that British jokes were different form American jokes and that American jokes weren’t funny to hm.  She told him some other stupid joke and he said “Ha ha ha.  Sort of bad jokes, ya know?”

He held open the door and the others walked out ahead of me.  As I was about to leave, I had an urge to touch his shining dark hair.  It looked so thick and soft.  I said jokingly, “I want some hair,” and I reached up towards him to feel it.  Paul thought I was going to pull it out by the roots so he leaned back and said, “No! no! Please don’t luv, I need it!”

Then he took my hand in his and squeezed it as he said goodbye.  He winked to all of us as we left.

We were shoved into freight elevator and taken downstairs.  As soon as I got outside, I started screaming.  I think I was a bit hysterical.  I kept looked up at the window and crying.  “We were just in there with Paul!”  When we reached the side of the hotel where the crowds were, we told them that we had met Paul, but nobody believed us even when we showed them the autographs.

At the performance that night I saw in the first section.  I wanted Paul to recognize me so I took out John’s book and opened it to where he’d signed it and waved it back and forth and screamed his name.  I’m sure he saw me because he kept looking my way and smiling.

The Beatles last song was “Long Tall Sally” and when they left, all was quiet.  There were no more screams and my ears were buzzing.  Some of the girls were crying, but I hope that nobody felt as sad as I did.  After all nobody else in San Francisco had met Paul so it wouldn't have seemed as much of a personal loss to them.

I know I’ll probably never again see him or touch him or talk to him.  Though it still hurts me to think about it now, I will always look back on that day as the happiest day of my tee

Dream jobs at the Beatles secret HQ

There are a few things in Beatles-dom that remain a mystery to me.   The two biggies that I am forever trying to learn more about are the Apple Scruffs and the Beatles fan club.    Since I am snowed in, I decided to look through my old magazines that I have stored away and so I dug out Datebook from the summer of 1965.  Inside I found a charming article about two girls named Susan and Pam who worked at the Beatles Fan Club Headquarters in New York.   As I read the article, I found myself wishing I could have gone back and worked with them.  They just seemed like they had so much fun working for the Beatles Fan Club.

Then I recalled something I had posted on this blog quite  a while ago about a fab club worker who was was auctioning off some personal Beatles items.  Sure enough, it is the Susan from this Datebook story!   She even mentions in her story that I posted originally that she was written about in Datebook.   The whole thing is found here.     In the comments it was decided that her autographs were not authentic.   They were signed by Neil Aspinall and a UK secretary.   However, the card was written by Brian.    

Dream Jobs at the Beatles HQ

By Laurie Brandel

Summer 1965 Datebook magazine

I visited the secret headquarters of the official Beatles fan club.   Right in the middle of Manhattan, on the fifth floor of a deceptively ordinary building, hidden behind the reception desk of an office which does not even bear its name, I found the bustling center of activity for millions of American Beatles enthusiasts.  And working away in the midst of all this exciting activity were two 17 year olds fortunate enough to hold what most American teenagers would consider the dream teen job of the decade—assistant to Lynn Hargrave president of the Beatles Fan Club.

I met them.  I chatted with them.  And they turned out to be pretty, bright, marvelously kookie 17 year old olds.  Blonde, 5 foot 8 Susan Friedman is a senior at Martin Van Buren H.S. in the borough of Queen New York.  Brown-haired 5 foot 4 Pamela Barlow is a senior at Francis Lewis H.S., also in Queens.  Both girls study dance at the June Taylor School of Dance in preparation for what they hope will be careers in the theatre.  But not until after they graduate this year and work full time for a while in the Beatles organization.  Since September they’ve worked 1:30 to 5:30 pm after school and all day on Saturdays.

“How did you two get these dream jobs?” I asked the girls.

“Well,” Susan began, “do you want the truth?”  I nodded and both girls giggled.

“It was really sort of simple,” Pam chimed in.  “We’d gotten tickets to the benefit performance of the Beatles at the Paramount last time they were here.  Then we heard about a cocktail party being given for them after the concert.  We wanted to come.”   

“Pam’s father knows somebody out there,” Sue pointed to the other offices served by the reception desk, “so we learned about this secret place.  We decided to come here and see what we could maneuver.  When we found Lynn Hargrave, she was so surprised to see us that she showed us around the offices.  We talked for a while and both of us at one point exclaimed, “Gee, wouldn’t it  be great to work here!”  Lynn looked at us strangely then smiled and said, “Fine.  You’ve got jobs, them.”

“We never got to the cocktail party, of course” Pamela broke in, “But that was all right because the Beatles never got there either.”

“We got something much more important,” Sue smiled.  She fingered a shiny disk which hung around her neck on a gold chain.  Pam swung hers in a circle jokingly, too.

“What are those?”  I rose to the bait.

“Nothing really, “Pam said coolly.  I looked.  They were gold circles on which were engraved the following words, “To Pamela (Susan), with luv, from Brian and the Beatles.”  Both girls now wear these Christmas gifts around their necks at all times. 

 However, neither of the girls has yet met the Beatles personally.  Both admit they “just can’t wait” until the Beatles come back again in August.  Before the jobs the girls had been fans of the Beatles, although they do not claim to have been the most enthusiastic fans.

Said Pam, “I’d never even been to an airport –which is more than some people can say,” She looked over at Susan who made a sign of mock protest.  The girls had been good friends before the job and remain so now.

Which of the Beatles do they favor?  The girls looked at each other.  “Well…” Pam began.  “Really….all of them….” Susan continued.  “After all…you know…we do work for all of them…”   “Of course, we can’t deny a special feeling for Paul and George…”  Pam admitted.   “You realize that those two are the unmarried ones!” Susan explained, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

The Beatles know of the existence of the girls through Brian Epstein who met Pam and Sue when he was in New York.

NEMS publicity chief, Tony Barrow had a very exciting introduction to the girls when he first arrived at the secret headquarters.

Pam was walking through the reception area, saw the rather nice looking English gentleman and decided to play one of her practical jokes.  

“You over there,” she commanded, “put your hands up, all the way up over your head.”  He obeyed, puzzled.  “Higher…higher…okay, now, sweetie, I want you to spell the word URGE and say the word BULB after it”  

Hesitantly, tony did as he was ordered, then laughed when he realized that Pam was putting him on and that he was the victim of an office kook.  Pam laughed nervously too, when he introduced himself as one of her bosses!

Fan club head Lynn Hargrave broke into our conversation at this point.  “You must realize, Laurie,” she said, “these girls are quite insane.”  “I realize, I realize,” I said.

“The Beatles will be arriving on August 13,” Lynn continued slyly, “and I’m planning to fire these two on August 12.”  She smiled when she said it.

Sue and Pam slid to their knees, “Please…please master,” they mockingly begged, “spare us!  You wouldn’t!”  Then they giggled hysterically.  Lynn shook her head and looked at me in resignation, then went about her work while the girls continued chatting. 

“We’ve met such marvelous people here,” Pam said.  Gerry and the Pacemakers, Cilla Black, Brian Epstein, Tony Barrow and so many others.  It’s made a great difference in my attitude.  I have never felt more confident in my long life.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well,” Pam continued, “no matter what goes wrong, I always feel sort of ... like…well…at least I can say that I work for the Beatles, which is more than anybody else can say…except her,” she pointed at Sue.

“What sort of job skills do you have?” I asked.

Both girls can type although Pam admitted, “When I first came here I couldn’t’ type very well…but I improved, didn’t I Sue?”  Sue shook her head at me and smiled secretly.

I asked what they had learned about teenagers from their constant contact with them through the mails.  

“They’re all basically the same,” said Sue.  “no matter where they come from.  The letters all seem to ask for the same things in just about the same way.”  

“After all,” Pam broke in, “they have one very important thing in common – love for the Beatles!”

“It’s not just a childish thing either,” Sue said, “I mean that more and more of the kids in the club are collecting money for charities by washing cars, cake sales, variety shows.”  

“Yes,” went on Pam, “since October it seems to me that there’s been a big change in the character of the fans writing in.  They’re not so involved in just hollering anymore.  They’re more involved in community activities and other responsible things.”  

“How old are the members of the fan club?  “Well,” said Sue, “I guess the youngest is a girl of 1 ½.  And the oldest is an ice old gentleman of 74.  I’d say about 10% are boys.  But each day’s mail seems to vary.  One day I’ll say to Pam, “Look, they’re getting older – here’s a whole batch of married ladies.  But the next day, there’ll be a whole batch of 15 year olds.  So you can’t really tell.”

The girls, Lynn and myself then spent some time seriously discussing the fan club and its workings.  I thought you might like to know some of the following facts.  First of all, the proper address for the club is Beatles Fan Club, Box 505, Radio City Station, New York, N.Y. 10019

What happens there to your Beatles mail?  After being picked up at the post office, it is taken to a mailing service which opens it, sorts it, send out membership forms and processes memberships of those who send in their $2 fees.  All other mail is then forwarded to the Beatles headquarters.  This includes personal communication to the Beatles, requests to form chapters, request for pictures, scripts of “A Hard Day’s Night” ($1) and for fact sheets, requests to form Brain Epstein fan clubs, for information on tickets, for pen pals (send name, age, interests), correspondence with chapter presidents, general complaints and requests for information.  All personal mail and gifts addressed to the Beatles are processed through this office.  Mail addressed to England is also returned to this office for processing. 

During the lulls between Beatle appearances in this country, about 6,000 letters per week are processed.  When the Beatles are around this figure more than triples.

What are the club’s major problems?  First –the impatience of teenagers.  The girls who write in don’t seem to realize that there is such a great volume of mail.  Since each piece is read and processed carefully, there is usually a time gap of about six weeks between receipt and final disposition.  Letters which inquire about previous letters simply increase the volume of mail and slow the whole process down even further. 

Also, many girls forget to send in their changes of address in time – or don’t include their addresses in the body of the letter.  Addresses on separate sheets of the paper or on the outsides of the envelope are apt to get lost.

Beatles fans have sent thousands of gifts to the fab four.  Included have been rings for Ringo (including one huge rattle ring, six inches in diameter), sculptures and drawings, four-leaf clovers, used barrettes, guitar picks, lockets, ID bracelets, watches, wedding bands, class rings, tie clasps, diapers, towels and pillow cases (for Ringo and Maureen), shirts, sweaters, scrapbooks, Playboy Club keys, hair oil, combs, etc etc.

One girl, whose name is Sandra Williams, recently sent four portfolios of excellent drawings and poems without putting her address on the material.  So there they lie at Beatles headquarters, beautiful but anonymous.

“What do you girls hope for when the Beatles arrive?”  I asked.  “Are you hoping to get to know them personally?”  

“Are you kidding!”  Pam and Sue chorused.  “Of course we hope to get to know them!”  “We just hope that aside from seeing them here at the office,” Pam said, “we’ll be able to talk with all of them and show them what the average American teenager is really like.”

“And we’d like to be casual,” Susan continued.  “Get to know them like human beings rather than just celebrities.”

“Is there any chance f their dream coming true?”   I asked Lynn.

“Who knows?”  She smiled.  “Ringo now, all such plans are secret.  Of course, if we fire these kooks before the Beatles ever arrive…”

The girls chuckled and I could tell that it was a good relationship they had with Lynn.  I knew they’d still be there when August 13 rolls around, working at their teen dream jobs.

“Sometimes,” Pam said, “when somebody asks me where I work and I tell them, power!  They just can’t believe it.”

“Sometimes,” Sue said, “We can’t even believe it ourselves.”