Goodbye George

 

George on the track

 

For a second there, doesn't it look like George is checking messages on his cell phone?  

Racing to Meet George

This story is from the Autumn 1994 edition of Good Day Sunshine magazine #74.  It was written by Ann Stanton.  I discovered this race took place on April 10, 1994.


I had been feeling kind of depressed lately.  I needed lift, and boy, did I get one.   The story takes place at the Phoenix International Raceway Slick 50 200.  The driver's name is Emerson Fittipaldi.  My story begins like this:

It was around 1:45 on a Sunday afternoon and I had just gotten home from Mass.  My girlfriend Pat called and asked if I had read today's newspaper, as there was an article that said George Harrison was in town for this race (which I knew absolutely nothing about).  He had had dinner with Emerson Fittipaldi on Thursday night, and had been at the races with him on Saturday, and in the car with him and all.

I said, "Man, I wonder if he's there today?"  Well,l being the nut that I am I said, "Let's go on a Beatle hunt! Even though the races end at 4:00 we'll take a chance."

I jammed over and picked Pat and her daughter Allison up within 20 minutes, and we were off.  I did my own racing to get there (being about an hour's drive away).  We got down there around 3:15 and they weren't giving any discounts on tickets, even though it was going to end in less than an hour.  We weren't going to buy one, but then figured we had driven all the way down there, so let's take a chance.  We bought the cheapest tickets ($12) and went in.

We figured we weren't going to be sitting hillside, and luckily, being so late, no one checked our tickets, so we headed over to the VIP section.  We went as far as we could go, and sat on the end of the aisle, trying to see if we could spot George, since there were only about 53,000 people there.

I really don't know too much about racing (nothing actually), but what I saw of it was exciting.  It went on for about another half-hour and the winner was Fittipaldi, George's friend that he dined with on Thursday.

The people started leaving, but we went the opposite way, because if George was there, he'd be with his friend, right?   Quite a few people hung around the section where Fittlipaldi was being congratulated, and we were trying to look for George through the fence.

I was there, "Where is he?" and all of a sudden I spotted Olivia, so George couldn't be too far away.  Then I saw this guy walking, and I knew his walk -- don't ask me how.  It was HIM!  YES!  I yelled over to Pat to see if she spotted him, and this guy around me wondered who were were talking about.  We told him we came to find George Harrison and we knew nothing about car racing, which is something I probably shouldn't have said, being around race fans.  But he got a kick out of it.

I kept my eyes on George and tried to take some pictures, because I didn't think we'd see him after the award ceremony.  When it ended, the crowd started leaving, and George had put on a baseball cap.  I tried to follow his cap with my eyes, but with that crowd it wasn't easy to do.  I lost him.

And then the best bit of luck happened.  They opened up the gate and started letting people go down by the celebrities.  I thought for sure we would need a pass this time, but we were lucky again -- they weren't checking for passes.  So we followed the crowd, and I was determined to find George.  We just started walking fast, hitting every spot and direction possible.  I headed over to the left and saw a tent set up.  Again I saw Olivia first, and right at a little table was our own Georgie boy!  AAAAHHH!

They had the area roped off, so we couldn't get in there without a pass for sure.  We didn't even try.  I started to take some pictures, and I just kind of watched him and tried to hear him talk  Once in a while you could hear his great little Liverpudlian voice.

I continued to watch him and Olivia eat, and he had a few beers.  I waited a while to let him get a little loosened up.  We didn't want to bother hm too much, because most of the people there were more into racers, and I felt we were the only ones interested in George.  After a while I got up the nerve to take out my little Cloud 9 CD booklet that I brought along with me just in case.   I took it out and the next time he looked over our way he smiled.  I kind of just looked and twisted the book in my hand with my pen and mouthed, "Could you please sign my booklet?"  He find of laughed; I guess he was thinking about it.  In the meantime, people were taking his picture and talking to him.  He did give a few autographs to some of the people in there with passes, and I never thought he'd really do mine.  But I continued to wait until he finished his sandwich.

he was really starting to act silly -- he grabbed the flower pot off the table and held it over Olivia's head for some pictures.  He was really doing a lot of laughing.  More time went by, which was fine with me.  I was happy to just stand there and watch him.

He looked over again, and I held up my booklet.  This time he told his friend at the table.  He pointed at me and told him to get my booklet so he could sign it. I gave him my black Sharpie pen too, and hew as signing while I was mouthing, "Oh, my God!"  While he was signing, I noticed several couples at the table next to George.  They already had a picture with him and an autograph, because they were lucky enough to be in there.  One woman was goofing on me, saying "Look at that girl," because my face and mouth said just how  I was feeling, and I don't think George autographs too often.  I yelled over to her, "You don't understand, lady," and she kind of felt bad.  She said, "Oh no, I'm happy for you."

I continued to gaze back at George and took a few more pictures of him signing.  Then the film ran out -- darn it.  I yelled over to him, "Can you please sign it 'To Ann?'"   The guy brought it back over to me, and George smiled.  I yelled over, "Thanks so much, George!"   He did sign "To Ann."

I would have said he could keep the pen, but I watched him play with it for a while -- rolling it on his leg.  When he put it down, I  yelled over to the guy again for my pen, and he said, "Aaah, aren't you even going to let him keep it?"   I said, "Normally I would, but he touched it!"  He picked it up from the table and brought it over, and I thanked him and George again.

I wouldn't leave until George left.  He eventually stood up and was talking t some other guy.  I was wishing I had some film left.  He looked good.  He was wearing black dungarees, a while shirt, a white vest and two caps, one on top of the other.  A little while after that he did leave, and I was on Cloud 9 for the rest of the night.  Great!

Long Beach George

The George Harrison twitter account posted this great photo of George at the Long Beach race in 1977.  

A Sunny day at the races

Another day at the races

Sound blocker

Silver Shades

smiling Harri

We need protection

A cold time at the races in Long Beach

Racing Buddies

Close encounters of the best kind (part 2)

I am so sorry that it has taken me longer than I had anticipated to get the second part of this story up.   

Photo by Karen Dyson 1978

This is the 1978 Long Beach Program like the on  the girls in the story had with them and had George sign.  This one is also signed by George and some of the racers, but it isn't the one that the girls in this story had.

Close Encounters of the best kind

U.S. Grand Prix West Long Beach California

April  2, 1978

By Karen Dyson and Kris Spackman

Up early again and off at 7am, headed for Long Beach.  Someone had stolen our parking permit out of Kris’ car, really great, nothing like having to worry about parking on Race Day.   But things worked out; we went to our parking zone and explained to the guy what happened and he gave us a free permit.  Alright!  So far everything had gone so well; there were chances of rain, but there were showers at night, and the day was gorgeous!  Someone above was looking after us indeed.

At 9:30 was the Formula One “warm up” so we hung out at the pits beforehand; no sign of George.  I decided to use the few shots left on my roll, so I could have a new fresh roll just in case.  So while Kris and Cindy hung out at Jody’s pit, I trekked down to James Hunt’s and finished my roll on him.  I watched James for awhile, then rejoined Kris and Cindy.  Soon the cars were going to the track and there was n sign of George, so we went again to ur seats and eyed the cars passing by.  When there were about 5 or 10 minutes left of the warm up, we headed for the pits.  It really didn’t look as though George would show up, not now anyway.  The actual race didn’t start until one.

So the Grand Prix began and it was so incredible!  When the cars finally came around the first time I couldn’t believe how fast they were moving!  The cars seemed to be passing by faster than before, even fast than qualifying, which didn’t make sense.  It was so exciting when they came around; to see what place they were in.  I love it.  But so sad on the 5^th lap, the cars came around and James Hunt wasn’t there!  I looked won the road and he was obviously slowed down; when he arrived at a wider part of the road, he pulled over.  I could have died.  I felt so sad for James.  He had hit a wall with his front wheel, which mangled it.  My second choice was Jody Schkecter, but he too was eventually out of the race.   The whole thing was so too much!  Most of the crowd seemed to be fans of Mario Andretti.  The event went by so fast.  The two hours were over before we knew it.  Around the 78^th lap we went down to the pits (right after we spotted Rod Stewart strolling by).  James had left and Jody too.  Most of the cars were already in the garage.  We hung around for a while; the crowds were crazy, so we headed for the garage, figuring George would most likely show up there sooner or later.  We waited for ages.  The cars came by but there was no sign of George.  Some guy came along and handed Cindy his VIP pass, saying she could get into the barricaded area of the garage.  So she was in!  Kris and I continued to wait outside.  It was looking hopeless after a while.  Either George wasn’t showing up or he went in without us seeing him.

Jackie Stewart had gone by once; now he was leaving.  He stopped and talked with a couple of men for a while.  One of us came up with the idea of ask Jackie if George was in there, and Kris came up with an even better idea to ask him to sign her program as a good excuse to stop hm.   Jackie finally walked down the ramp and he signed.

Kris:  Have you seen George today?

Jackie:  Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.

Kris:  Is he in the garage?

Jackie:  No, I don’t think so.  I didn’t see him.

We two proceeded to wait again.  It was ages.  A couple of young guys were hanging around and they had seen George on Friday as well as Saturday.

Kris headed over to ask someone something from nowhere George appeared!  I could hardly get it out to call Kris’ name and when I did, I wasn’t sure if that was her name!  I tried to focus for a picture, I honestly can’t remember if I did take one or not.  Everything happened so fast, it made me terribly nervous.  I had brought a t-shirt with me that I wanted to give to George.  It’s a goofy t-shirt from a bar in Boulder, Colorado called The Dark Horse.  It’s really funny.  So I thought better now than never. I hurried over to him, and called to him.  George was a few steps away when he finally turned around.

Karen:  May I give you something?

George:  Oh yeah (he came over to me and I held open the t-shirt; he held the ends and looked at it.)  Oh yeah, that’s nice.

He then let it go and began to walk away!  This totally confused me, and I didn’t know quite what to do, so I called out to him again.  George turned back around and I said, “Will you take it?  May I give it to you?”  George came back to get it and said, “Oh sure.”  Then he went up the ramp with Olivia.  Further up, he opened the shirt up and checked it out again.

(Kris speaking)   In the meantime, from God only knows where, I‘d gotten the first stroke of courage of my whole life and captured those very precious moments on film.  While I shook the whole time and didn’t even know if the camera was in focus (somehow it came out beautifully!)

And off he went inside, to encounter Cindy, who saw him the moment he came in the door.  As she hurried towards him, he instantly spotted her Dark Horse t-shirt (a genuine one she’d gotten in a trade), and proceeded to totally blow our Cindy away by saying, “hi darlin’!” to her!  He also saw the camera in her hand and without her even having to ask, promptly posed with Olivia for her!  She stayed close while he talked with other people and tried not to stare, but every time she’d sneak a look at him, he’d be looking right back at her!  The look on his face was one of genuine delight like “Wow you really like me!”

He wasn’t in the garage for very long and by this time Karen and I were inside watching them from a distance.

(Karen speaking)  He had my shirt all neatly folded in his hand.  We thought we saw Cindy talking to him, but we weren’t sure.  We figured she’d see the t-shirt and know we’d seen him.  As he started for the door, Cindy finally approached him and asked him to sign a scrap of paper for her.  He was most obliging and as he did so, asked where she’d gotten her t-shirt.  She explained about the trade to him, then noticed he was wearing an “I think it was the trousers” button!  Without a second thought, Cindy most innocently exclaimed, “Oh George, I think it was the trousers too.”

He started laughing, “Oh yeah?” and asked if she’d seen and enjoyed the Rutles program. They talked for a couple minutes, then he was on his way to the door again.  As we had the day before, we made a mad dash for the exit, racing around the building.  And there he was only a few feet in front of us, walking hand in hand with Olivia.  We drew up shot, not knowing what to do, hating to follow him but wanting so badly to talk to him for just a minute.  

I told Kris that we can’t follow him, but then we took another 10 steps.  I felt so bad.  What should we do?  He headed up a side street toward Ocean Boulevard; it was as if we’d totally lost all control over our legs, as if we were drawn by a powerful magnet.  We were totally helpless.  But he didn’t even know we were there.  

We tried to keep our distance, but there were times they’d slow down and we’d get so close to them.  Once or twice we nearly were standing right next to them.  I could hear George’s voice now and then.  I was so scared he was gonna turn around and be angry with us.  I worried like crazy the entire time.  We followed him for ages; over a bridge, back onto the street, not knowing where in the world we were going, or what we’d do if and when he stopped.  George and Olivia were so cute, holding hands the entire time.  We all continued a block more or so.  At one point George looked at Olivia, gave her a big gorgeous smile, then put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him.  Oh, it was just so cute; the two of them were so darling together.

Down the road was a limo, which I suspected was theirs.  We got up to the limo, the chauffeur opened the door, George helped Olivia into the car, and then stood there and talked with the chauffeur, who apologized, saying he couldn’t’ find a closer place to park.  George told him it was ok and the chauffeur said something to make George laugh and say, “Oh yeah?”  George turned around and looked at us:  Kris and I just looked back and him, so he got in the car and closed the door.  I didn’t know what to do, so I asked the chauffeur if he’d ask George to sign my program.  He said, “You go ahead and ask him!”  

(Kris Speaking)  Karen and I looked at each other.  I got down by the window and pointed to her program.  “George, could you sign this for her?”  He rolled down the window, undid his seat belt and scooted forward, as Karen said, “Oh George, we’re so sorry to bother you.”

“That’s ok, that’s ok,” he assured, taking the program from her hand.  (In the program is a picture of George, James Hunt and Leo Sayer.  We’re sure he was tickled to have his pictures in the program.  Earlier Karen had gotten James to sign it and commented jokingly to me, “Gee, if I got George to sign this, I bet he’d say, “Oh you got James to sign, too!”) 

I opened the program to the page Hunt and signed and handed George the pen.

George:  ‘Oh, I see you got James to sign.”

Karen:  Oh yeah, what happened to his car?

George:  He hit a wall with his wheel in the 5^th lap.

Karen:  He’s not doing very well so far this year.

George:  No, he’s not.  (He then signed for Kris)

Kris:  Did you enjoy the race, George?

George:  Oh yes, though I’m not a fan of Carlos (Carlos Reutemann won the race)

Then he looked at me and saw my “the Rutles are coming” button.  “oh the Rutles!  Good!”

Karen told him he looked real spiffy in the show and he started laughing.  Karen then asked what were his plans for the future.  Replied our “hard-working” George, “I’m going home next week to start working on my album.  It’ll be out in July or August.”

“July or August?!” cried Karen, in a tone of “What have you been doing all this time?”

Knowing full well we’d know what he meant, he grinned and replied, “Yeah, well, I’m in semi-retirement now, ya know!”

Karen:  Ah c’mon, now don’t you start giving us that…

George:  (laughing) I am!  I am in semi-retirement!

Kris:  Any plans for a tour, George?

George:  No…no tour.  It’s too much trouble.

Then very nicely he excused himself because people were beginning to gather.  We waved goodbye and watched as the limo pulled away then went absolutely wild and crazy with joy!   We went back to find Cindy and all went nuts together.

There are no words to suffice.  How do you describe the most incredible weekend of your life?  And whoever up there likes us—thank you!

Look out below!

And George looks at the water balloon he hurled down on Paul.   Haha!

Close Encounters of the Best Kind (part 1)

I have shared many stories of George fan meeting George at the Long Beach Grand Prix in the late 1970's and early 1980's, but this is the very first one.   I found this story in the May 1978 issue of the Harrison Alliance.  It is a very long article, so I only typed out the first day of the race and will post the rest soon.   It was written by Karen Dyson and Kris Spackman.

Close Encounters of the best kind

U.S. Grand Prix West Long Beach California

April 1 & 2, 1978

By Karen Dyson and Kris Spackman

What  a weekend indeed!  Kris Spackman, Cindy N. and I made plans months ago to attend the Long Beach Grand Prix, with a little help from my boss, who is an avid auto race fan.  Since last October, we’ve been waiting with great anticipation for this gala event.  As time went by, though I found myself really getting into the Formula One racing, asking my boss zillions of questions; watching the events on TV, I’ve really become excited about the sport, and I had decided that, though the original reason for going to the Grand Prix was to chance a glimpse of one George Harrison, I was just as excited about seeing and experiencing the Grand Prix!

Someone up there must like us.  That’s the only reason I can think of: who’d have ever believed that for two days in a row in a crowd of 100,000 people, we’d see George at the Long Beach Grand Prix?  Not me, that’s for sure!  Saturday, April 1 dawned clear and sunny and my dear pals and I were on our way bright and early, arriving in Long Beach about 8:30.  Having never been to anything remotely resembling an auto race, I didn’t know what to except and surely not two miles of Long Beach city streets blocked off and turned into a race track!  But it would prove to be an experience and a fun one!  I think I can even begin to understand why George enjoys it so much.

The morning passed, leaving us somewhat discouraged:  there were so many people, and the track area was so vast.  If he was here, and recent rumors of his being in LA kept us hopeful, would there be even a slight chance of our spotting him in the crowd?  Qualifying races had been going on all morning, and we’d kept moving, scanning the track area and the grandstands for some sign of curly brown hair!  At 12, we lunched at the Exhibition Hall, which was doubling as the garage, then headed back to ur seats for the Formula 1 qualifying race scheduled for 1:30.  Maneuvering our way through the crowd, we were caught suddenly in a rush of people, and the next thing, Karen was gone.

I looked everywhere, but finally gave up and headed for the pits.  I figured the others would realize I’d be at the McLaren pit.

So there  I was at the McLaren pit, just taking everything in, when suddenly I noticed a person looking very much like George, wearing sunglasses, walking down the center of the pits.  It was so strange, as It hought it was him…but I was so unsure at the same time, and it didn’t help when he walked right past the McLaren pit without stopping, so I thought, well, maybe it wasn’t him.  His hair was lighter than normal, and he was walking so fast…it left me so unsure.  So I waiting there, watching James Hunt; in a few inutes along came this character again.  I was so positive, and so unsure at the same time, so I followed along the fence and watched him.  It was nuts, me fighting through the crowds frantically, it was crazy!  Then suddenly, he stopped and turned around to go back the other way!  So I started fighting my way back through the crowds, watching George with one eye, and trying to see where I was going with the other.  I took a few photos along the way, and then he stopped at Jody Scheckter’s car and stood and talked with the mechanics.  He walked over to my side of the car (making him about 5 or 6 feet away) and stood right smack in front of me.  I was dying!  I proceeded to take pictures, as he stood there shaking hands with Jody, wishing him luck.  Meanwhile I was totally freaking out and when he smiled, oh Lord!  I did try calling out to him a couple of times, but he didn’t hear me.  Then he started down the road.  Here I go again!   I followed him down the road again, frantically pushing through the crowd, trying to watch George at the same time.  When finally I got in front of our grandstand, I looked up to see if the girls were up there.  I did everything I could go get their attention—waved my arms, yelled and screamed, but to no avail.  So I took off, following George, but then he disappeared; there was no sight of him.  I’d lost him!

(Kris speaking)  Not 10 minutes later, there was our Karen, dashing frantically up the grandstand steps, crying, “Here’s here! He’s here!  I saw him! I took about 10 pictures!  He passed right below here.  I tried to get you guys’ attention.”  The hour-long qualifying race seemed to last forever.  We cruised the track area, and up the street and up the street, the way he’d been heading when Karen lost him, trying to spot him in a sea of red jackets –everybody had red jackets on that day!

Finally the race finished and people began to swarm all over the place.  We moved slowly along the track, carefully scanning face after face, hoping…praying… Then Karen grabbed us, pushing us toward the fence, “there he is!!!”

And there he was!  What a sight after 4 very long years!  He looked just incredible, so healthy and tanned, so happy and thoroughly enjoying himself.  He was wearing blue jeans, and off white shirt with red jacket and yellow tennis shoes.  For those first brief moments, it was as if everything around me ceased to exist and there was only George.  I had to keep looking and looking to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.   He was really there, only half a dozen yards and three foot cement wall between us.  Cindy and I clutched frantically at each other and at Karen and I knew they were feeling the same.

He was walking happily along, accompanied by a young Spanish-looking guy (Olivia’s brother?); he stopped and chatted with drivers and mechanics, examined the race cares while we followed outside, going absolutely crazy with delight and keeping it very low key so as not to draw too much attention to him.  A few people did recognize him and we smiled at the awe in their voices, “There’s George Harrison!”

Karen was still taking pictures, and I think he finally figured out it wasn’t the cars or the drivers she was aiming at!  But he appeared genuinely amused and we loved it!   It looked about 10 minutes to work his way down the street inside the track area, while we charged through the masses outside trying to keep up with him and not lose each other in the process.  Then we reached a point where a side street off the main road had been momentarily blocked at the curbs on either side to allow the drivers through to leave the track.  There was a truck on the side street backed up almost to the main road with only a “sidewalk sized” space between it and the wall along the track (Hard to visualize, I know but even harder to explain!)

Anyway, when George reached the gate, he scooted through and went around the track to its right side.  Cindy and I were struggling through an absolute mass of people, and I grabbed her, crying “C’mon!” and we ran down a sidewalk to the left of the truck.  Between us and it was another 3-foot cement wall, and at the bottom, I leapt over it, just as George, who was several feet down the street, turned around.  I never made such a fast about0face in my life, “calmly” chatting with Cindy, and we both just cracked up.

Suddenly we realized we’d lost Karen in the crowd, but knew she’d know we were heading for the garage.  George was only a few yards ahead of us, and much as we hated to follow him, we couldn’t bear to lose him.   He was so cute—he turned around once or twice, because he knew we were behind him, and he’d grin teasingly in our direction.  We followed him all the way to the Exhibition Hall which served as the garage for the drivers’ crews of mechanics, and at first he missed the drive where he should have gone in a headed for the public entrance.   Then he realized his error, turned and came back, scooting through a cluster of people who I’m sure had no idea who he was. We watched him go in, then grabbed our garage passes and raced inside (the passes sold to the public allow you inside the hall to watch the crews work on the cars, but the area where they’re working is barricaded all the way around.  Only the VIP’s are allowed in, and needless to say, that’s where we’d find George!)  And we did:  he was right in the center of the hall, chatting with people, having his picture taken by reporters, and signing autographs,.  We couldn’t see him very well through the crowd around him, but we did notice he’d taken off his sunglasses.

(Karen speaking)  I headed for the garage, as the 3 of us had discussed going there after the last event.  There was no sign of Kris and Cindy in the lines watching the cars go in, no sign of George.  I kept my fingers crossed that Kris and Cindy were inside.  I went in, but I thought I’d never find them, it was so crowded!  I walked around looking for the girls amongst all the bodies and looked for George within the barricades.  Getting clear around the room, Kris spotted me and called out, “over here!”  We stood there getting a glimpse of his red jacket and his curly locks.  Some idiot stood right in the way most of the time; he finally moved, and we had a good, clear view.   George was sitting talking with mechanics and other sorts.  Looking good without his sunglasses!  George got up for the door, looking as though he was leaving, so we tore out a back way, close to where he went out and then down the stairs, expecting him to be walking down the ramp way from the garage.

Poof!  The instant “Harrison Disappearing Act” took place right before our very eyes!  Don’t ask me how the man does it, but he’s an expert.  He was nowhere to be seen!  And we weren’t to see him again until the following day, the day of the Big Race.  With all the incredible experiences of the day before under our belts, we returned to Long Beach saying “Yesterday was so incredible, it’s ok if we don’t see him today.”  Yet we were dying inside with anticipation and hope.