A helluva way to live

Another fan story from The Write Thing Jan/Feb 1976 issue.  This John encounter was written by Sharen Uzarewicz.

Photo by George Tebbins
December 29, 1975

As we drove past the doorman, he waved at us but we thought it was only in recognition and we didn't stop as we were going a few blocks down for something to eat. When we returned, Nancy got out to talk to him, and it turned out that hew as waving at us to follow the limo a few cars ahead of us which contained John and Yoko!

Knowing how much it meant to me to see John, Nancy and George agreed to wait at least a few hours (it was about 10pm), but then we'd have to leave to start the drive home.  Eventually, George fell asleep in the back seat, and Nancy curled up by the steering wheel.

It was 3am when the silver Lincoln continental pulled up, and without seeing its occupants, I knew it was them.  I shook George and Nancy and tried to gather my photos, camera and jump out of the car.  When I turned around John was standing there looking very, very paranoid.   What I learned later was that when I woke Nancy, her first reaction was to start the car, gun the motor and flash on her headlights.   I guess I was bursting out of the car at the exact same time.  John not knowing our intentions literally jumped a foot.   I hurried over to him and said, "John, we're from Chicago, and I have some photos I'd like to give you."   His face relaxed, and he replied, " Oh sure."  Then George asked if we could take some pictures and he said alright.  I pulled out the photo I wanted to give him, and he took it and said, "Yoko, look at this."  He genuinely seemed to like it and asked me where it was taken.   I said Chicago, and he looked down at me and said, "But when was that?  What was I doing there?"   Being completely freaked out by that point, I told him he'd just been in town to visit Dick Gregory, and he replied that was strange because he'd just been talking to Dick that very day.  In the photo I gave him he was wearing a scooped neck black t-shirt and denim jacket, and when he looked at it he said, "What was I wearing?  A low cut black bra?"  and "Was I fat then."

Photo taken by George Tebbins 

Nancy asked if they'd gotten our cards and he said, yes, and they were sorry they couldn't come down before, "but we're very busy - with the baby shittin'"   He added that they get cards and letters all the time even from Rome.  "But we can't come down and look for the Romans."  It was as if he was actually apologizing for not coming down and that he really wanted us to understand why.  George asked if he'd pose for a photo and he seemed very willing.  After I took two shots I wanted to get in a photo myself, but I was too shy to ask him.   Instead, I sort of walked in back of him while he was signing something and leaned my head around his side just so it would get in some of the photos George was taking.   I didn't think John knew I was there, and I was waiting for George's flash to go off when suddenly John ducked his head down next to mine making a funny face.  Overcome I touched his back and mumbled a thank you, moving away.

John and Sharon
Photo taken by George Tebbins

Someone mentioned that we'd been in the car for three days and he said, "That's a helluva way to live." It wasn't a put-down, it was more like, you must be crazy to go thru all that for me, but I'm pleased you have.

Then I remembered I had more photos with me and I handed them to him telling him he could have them if he liked.   He genuinely seemed to like them, and he went thru them more than once showing them to Yoko.  He looked down at me and repeated, "But I want to know what Iw as doing when I look at these."  It was incredible of him to say something like that.  Whether he intended to toss them out or not, it was still fantastic of him to give the impression that they meant something to him and that he'd be looking at them again.

Yoko was rather quiet, but once, out of the blue, she looked at me and very sweetly said, "I like that top you're wearing."  I was so stunned that she even noticed, all I could think of to say was, "Thank you, I got it just for the trip."  When we finally left she wished us all a happy new year.   John asked us if we had everything (at least three times we'd asked him for one more photo and he didn't seem bothered at all) and then they walked to the gate and rang for the doorman.

No matter how many times I repeat it, I just can't' convey how absolutely marvelous he was toward us.  He really seemed to care about us, he understood what we'd been thru, and he was pleased to give us a little of his time.  He must have been tired, but he didn't rush us in the least.  He was fantastic.  He also looked fantastic.  The most recent photos I had seen of him made him look old and tired.  When we saw him in the flesh, he looked like he was in his early 20's -- healthy and happy.  His hair was drawn back into a ponytail, and he was wearing a blue beret and a long navy blue pea coat and beige slacks.  I didn't get a good look at anything but Yoko's face.  Her hair was very long, and she was pale but looked beautiful to me.  She was incredibly sweet to us.  Not at all the way the doorman had described her (the doorman said she was jealous of the fans and always called the police on them for hanging around).  She talked to us but mainly stayed in the background and didn't seem to mind how hysterical we were becoming over her husband.  It really proved to me how little of what you hear 2nd and 3rd hand can be believed.

Was it all worth it?  You better believe it was worth it -- it's just "a helluva way to live."

Liverpool and London 1975

Tonight's fan story was written by George Tebbens and was originally found in the Jan/February 1976 issue of The Write Thing


Liverpool, September 15, 1975

After seeing one of the most electrifying concerts ever, the gang and I walked to the Adelphi Hotel where we had hoped of getting into a McCartney party.

At first, we thought it would be easy but then it seemed like everyone had the same idea.  Luckily we were already inside standing near our only refuge -- the john.

Finally, after about a half hour wait, Paul and the band arrived.  Just before he did the security guard locked the revolving door so the mob would stay outside.  Seeing how Paul didn't know this he, Jimmy, Denny and Joe got stuck in the revolving door trying to get inside.  They were being pushed against the glass by fans.   So I ran over and pulled down the bolt holding the door.  I got thanked by Paul, ut almost killed by the guard who was more interested in being proper than reasonable (He said it was Paul's fault for not using the back door.)

The party was on the 3rd floor and we were in the lobby.  So close but so far.  That's when Steve and Howie asked the girls to have a drink I went investigating.  When I got near the room where the party was I ran into Joe English who was in the hall directing the little kids to the washroom.  He recognized me from a couple days earlier when I showed him some shots from New Orleans.  He told me to come in, but I said I didn't want to impose, and that I felt a bit embarrassed peaking.  That's when he said most of the people didn't even know him, and one more stranger wouldn't hurt.   So we went in and helped ourselves to refreshments, cold cuts and salads buffet style in one room and booze in the other.  I felt like I was on the "James Paul McCartney" special (Part II).  Itw as very much like that party on the show with people talking and drinking and sometimes singing.


Finally, I saw Paul dashing from room to room trying to give as much of himself to each cousin and aunt and uncle as he possibly could.  Occasionally he'd go over and say something to Mike or pose for photos with one of his cousins.  He really seemed like he was enjoying himself.

Once he walked by me and said, "Glad you could make it," and he really meant it.  Not like other people who'd say, "how did you get in here?"

I don't remember how I got into a conversation with his cousin Kate who told me Paul would be producing a record for her after he finishes the American tour.  It seems as though she does have some talent because two weeks earlier she sang back-up on Mike McGear's TV spot.

Paul didn't stay at the party very long.  It seemed as though Linda wanted to leave.  Stella was having fun under the buffet table pounding on everyone's toes and Heather Mary and dozens of cousins were playing in the hall until Linda had Heather round up the kids.  Heather asked me if I had seen Stella because they had to leave.  She really was disappointed.

After Pau left I talked to Mike and Angie about the "McGear" album, met Rose (Paul's housekeeper), also talked to Denny and Jojo Laine and dozens of aunts and cousins.

The party ended about 2am when the booze ran out.  By the time I left, I felt as though I was part of the family.  Everyone had made me feel welcome.

All photos were taken by George Tebbens

London- September 18, 1975

When the London show ended I tried to make my way back up to the balcony to find Cindy, Mary Ann, and Barb but they had already left.

As I was leaving I saw Ringo and his kids near the front row of the balcony.  He sent the kids off with someone and started looking for Harry Nilsson.  To keep from getting kicked out, I went over to talk to him.  I told him I had some shots of him from Elton's rehearsal in L.A. and some from Moon's birthday party.  That's when he said he wasn't at that party.  Then I insisted he was.  He replied, "That night I was so messed up, I really wasn't all there."


As Harry came over he asked if I was going to the party.  I said sure, but actually, I didn't really know where it was.  (Ringo saw my Venus and Mars shirt and thought I was a roadie). 

The party was in the balcony lobby.  The guard at the door at first wouldn't let us in.  He told Ringo e needed to show an invitation.  Ringo said, "But he's my friend, Paul McCartney is my friend."  But the guard kept insisting he needed an invitation until someone told him this was Ringo Starr, one of the Beatles.  I thought the poor old guy was going to die!  He got very apologetic.  Ringo told him Harry (who was also being given a hard time) another couple and myself were all with him.

Immediately after thanking Ringo I got myself lost in the shuffle until all the concert goers were out of the balcony.

Walking through the crowd I recognized a lot of people.  Alice Cooper, Pete Townsend, Gary Glitter, David Front, and a few other English artists were all there.

When Paul arrived he talked first to Mr. and Mrs. Eastman, and then the other celebrities.  He signed about 50 autographs and posed for pictures with Ringo.

During the photo session, I heard David Frost ask Paul about a TV special, but I couldn't get any details.  For the duration of his stay, he talked to Pete Townsend, Ringo, and Harry.

The group starting singing some old-time songs (We ain't got a barrel of money...) while photographers clicked and everyone tried to get a glimpse of what was going on.

Paul only stayed about an hour and split.  I heard that Paul dropped Linda and met Ringo and Harry at a club later that night.

Evening walk

Photo by George Tebbins

Photo by George Tebbins

A meeting in London Town

Party with the Dark Horse

I am still searching high and low for any stories, information and photos about George's 1974 concert in St. Louis.   I know there has to be people out there that have things.    But in the meantime I found this great story about when the tour came to Chicago (so close!).     It was from the April/May 1976 issue of The Write Thing.  

By Char Bass

Chicago November 30, 1974

We arrived at our hotel in Chicago around noon, Chicago time.  We didn’t have time to go to look at our suite, but they gave me the key.  Just as I got back out to the car, 3 black limos pulled up.  My girlfriend, Nellie, and I took it quite calmly.  We had planned to stay in the same hotel as George, but we had only guessed, not actually knowing where he was to stay.   We went on to the concert and the show was fantastic, even from behind the stage where our seats were.  After the show I didn’t feel let down, I was still quite up in the anticipation of something!

Photo by Tony Morelli and published by Flickr Creative Commons license

 

We went back to the hotel slowly through all the traffic, and we finally got to see our suite, and it was quite nice.  When I heard a noise outside our door in the hall, I ran to the door and looked out the peep-hole.   All I Saw was the back of the head of a man with long grey hair closing the door to his suite across the hall.  Soon we saw the limos pull up in front of the hotel again and we knew it was time for George to leave for the evening performance.  We went down to the lobby with our cameras.  No one seemed to object.  We wondered if anyone would mind us taking pictures, so I asked a man standing just a few feet away.  He replied that He didn’t care, but that they weren’t really part of the tour.  We wondered what they meant, they had on Dark Horse badges like everyone else in the lobby.  So I looked at the older man's badge to read the signature.  I just glanced so it wouldn’t be noticeable, it said Harry Harrison!   Then it hit me that was George’s Dad!   I looked up at his face to make sure, and even though his hair was much longer than I've ever seen in a picture,  sure enough I recognized his face.   Then I suddenly remembered the man I had seen in the all through the peep-hole and realized that George's Dad was staying right across the hall from us!

Emil Richards, George with Harold and Pete earlier in the tour

Now the problem was to get Nellie to realize this without saying anything, but while I Was trying to signal her I realized that she was trying to tell me something too.  She got me to look at the man we had questioned earlier, and then I recognized him as George’s brother, Pete!  So then with us both knowing about both men, I started a conversation with Mr. Harrison.  I asked how long the tour was and about his grandchildren, Leslie and Gordon (George’s sister Louise’s children) when I had ;met ten years before.  I told him about Leslie being too little to write at the time, but still wanted to sign autographs like her mother;, and so had drawn a picture of her Uncle George for us.  Mr. Harrison made some reference to Pete, mentioning that he was George’s brother, and was a bit surprised to see that we had recognized both of them.  I made some kind of remark to him about being in Suite 7B and he looked at me rather suspiciously, but I explained that we were in 7A and that I had seen him leave his room.  I asked them if it would be all right if I took their picture and they said, “sure,” so Nellie stood with them and I got a photo of them.  They decided to go to their car then, but Mr. Harrison said that he would see us later as they left.

Photo by George Tebbins

Soon someone asked us to leave the lobby, to go outside.   We didn’t have our coats.  it was cold, windy and spitting snow outside, but out we went so we could get pics of George.  They moved us behind the limo and I couldn’t see over the car well enough, so I stood on a little cement thingy.   I took one picture of George as he came out the door and then as he came closer to the car I began to feel the effects of his presence.  He looked at me strangely. I figured it was the camera and all the noise it made.   But as I got it focused and he was looking straight at me, and when i didn’t take it, he stood there for a few seconds and stared at me, and turned his head a little to the side in wonderment, but I just could not move.  As soon as he got into the car, I came back to my senses.

Later at dinner, I remarked to Nellie, half kidding, that I wished they would hurry up and invite us to the party, cause I Was getting tired.  Well as we were in the hall after trying to unlock our door, Mr. Harrison poked his head out of the door and said, “Would you girls like to go upstairs and see what’s going on?”  Now what do you say to that but Yes!  He added that Pete would take us up, and Pete appeared out of 7C.  it was unbelievable. 

So off we went and when we ended up in 22B, I remembered a girl in the lobby with the name tag Chris O’Dell (Ah, ha Miss O’Dell, I thought) who had been given room 22B.  Anyway George was not there, so Pete told us to sit down and he went to look for him.  He came back and got us a drink and said that George would be there in a little while.  So we sat there trying to calm down.  As I listened to what Pete was telling us, I became slowly aware, as if waking up, of a familiar voice in the room, and then I realized that voice, and gorgeous accent, could only belong to George.  Nellie said that I really jumped, and searched the room with my eyes quickly for him.  Fortunately, he had his back to us, so he didn’t see my reaction, but he was only about 7 feet away.  He had on green corduroy pants, slightly flared, and a green sweater with a V neck and no shirt on under it.  it had long sleeves which he kept pushing up a bit.  I got to see his earrings for the first time, very small and gold, and since he had no shoes or socks on, Nellie noticed that he is flat-footed.  

I really have very little idea what order things happened in while he was in the room. I’ll just try to tell about my observations of him as best I can.  Although I didn’t know then who she was, Olivia was there.  He kissed her just after they came into the room, and before he sat down.  When he decided to sit down, he looked around the room and found one of the chairs around the table empty and he sorta dove at it as if it were going to get away.  Bear brought him a plate of food from the kitchen and some wine and yogurt.  He  picked at the food more than he ate, but he really seemed to like the yogurt.

Well, then George stood and talked to someone at another table.  I could only hear parts of what he was saying, but I can’t repeat any of it, cause I heard his voice and accent, but not really the words even when it was audible.   He couldn’t stand still though, first he’d lean on the table, then on the chair and for a while he even stood down on his knees and talked.  Then he talked to another person and where he stood blocked the entrance/exit to the room.  That wouldn’t have bothered us normally, but we had had a lot to drink (water and tea as well as the alcoholic drink Pete gave us) and we really wanted to get to the bathroom.  The problem was that to get the bathroom, we would have to have moved George.  So we just sat there.

Soon enough George went back to his chair, and when he did, this weird girl came parading in.  She had on a black ballet body leotard, instead of a body shirt, and for a skirt she had on 2 hot pink chamois sewn together at the sides.   The back one was long and the front one was short and the sides were split all the way up.  She also had on a gold chain, belt, black hose and big platform shoes.  She came in and walked right up to George and said, “I met you five or six weeks ago, and I just came up to say hello.”  George looked up to her face and just said, “Oh...hullo,” as if he hoped that would satisfy her and she would go away.   So she goes on to ask him about the meaning of the OM and while they talk he carefully keeping looking at her face until he just had to look at her outfit.  He glanced down quickly and then even faster he looked back up and then very carefully looked somewhere else altogether then her face even, until she decided to go.  By the way, he explained that the 3 part of the OM stands for creation, restoration and destruction and the (: part is the sun and the moon.  During this time I had looked over at George to find him looking at me a couple times.

George sat there telling something to a person in a chair to the far left of us, but as I listened and looked at him, he talked to this person and never missed a word, but he stared straight into my eyes the whole time.  I was completely frozen.  He told about his guitar strap breaking on stage and how when he realized it was letting go, he stuck his foot out to catch the guitar on his shin.   All I could think of is that he is the only one I know that would deliberately get hit on the shin.  He must have realized what was happening to me, cause he stared into my eyes once more after that, and sure enough, the results were the same.    Olivia came over once and asked us if we wanted anything to eat and then right before he left he stood about 3 feet away from us and leaned over the coffee table in front of us to get some matches from Pete and I remember he said, “I thought he was crackers.”  but I don't’ know who he was talking about.  Then I heard him say that he was going to bed, and I looked up to see him with his arm lightly around Olivia’s waist and they said goodnight to everyone .  I felt a desperate urge to do something drastic to keep him there, but I suppressed it and just smiled.  We talked to everyone there for awhile and then we went down to Pete’s room and played cards for a little while before going back to our room.  The next morning we wrote a note to his Dad, thanking him and Pete for asking us up, and we put my beloved OM pendant in it, asking him to give it to George.  Dumb me, I didn’t have it with me while George was in the same room.

To describe George, I can say that i was really shocked at how thin he is.  His face looked just about like I expected, but thinner.  His hair was so fluffy and nice, but his eyes were what I really noticed.  They were so deep brown!   Most people when you look at their eyes you see the white around the color, but when you stare into George's eyes you just see deep brown and a lot of emotion.  It’s really a shame his eyes don’t photograph the way they really look.  If they did, I don't’ think anyone would have ever noticed Paul’s eyes even as gorgeous as they are.

I feel bad sometimes that I didn’t talk to him, but then I think about the girl in the pink chamois skirt and what fool she made of herself, and then to the fact that I wasn’t prepared for the meeting and really couldn't think of anything meaningful to say and I just remember George’s own words, “Silence often says much more, than trying to say what’ s been said before. “  And I know he is right.  

Moved like Macca

photo by George Tebbins

Daddy's Little Angel

photos by George Tebbins

Chicago promotion

George was a busy guy in the fall of 1976 and part of his busy schedule was to promote his new album at that time, 33 1/3.  With stops in Chicago and Boston, it was almost like a mini-tour to the fans during that time.   This story REALLY shows how managed to appear everywhere at once and stay one step ahead of one of the guys.     It sounds like a really fun time.

George 1976

Barb Clark

With a little help from my friends issue #17 (January 1977)

Knowing about the promotional party that Warner Brothers was having for George’s new album, 33 1/3 and knowing he’d show up, we—Tempy S., Kay P. and I packed our bags and drove to Chicago.  We went to O’Hare Airport thinking he’d get into town a few hours before the party.  There we met up with George Tebbens, Sharon U., and Carol or was it Nancy?  I got them mixed up.   They were sisters.  All of them were from Chicago.  We spent the day meeting all the flights coming from LA.  The flights came 15 to 25 minutes apart, which just gave us time to run to each one.  It started to get late.  The last flight we met, one guy got off with a Warner Brothers jacket on.  We thought, this is it!  The last person got off the plane.  No George.  Tebbens went home to get ready for the party.  We all went over to the hotel where George was staying and went into the lobby to wait.  Kept our eyes glued to the elevator door.  Tempy got up and moved closer.  We sat there a while.   A man came up to us and said we’d have to leave.  He asked who we were waiting for.  We didn’t answer.  He told us to go outside and stand – that he’d be coming out soon!  So we all went out front.  About 20 minutes later out George came; wearing a colored sweater, orange trousers which we later found out was a jumpsuit.   And he looked gorgeous!  Looked a bit like ’68 Yellow Sub. time.   He looked surprised to see all of us waiting for him.  He grinned that grin and said hello to everyone.  Signed some autographs, and then got into the limo and went off to the Ambassador.  We quickly got a cab.   The cab driver was cool—knew what was happening.  He said, “I think we can beat them!”  We got out, threw him some money, and stood in front of the Ambassador.  Three seconds later George arrived!  He rushed through the crowd while we stood around trying to come up with some way to get into the party.  Meantime the crowd started changing, “We want George, we want George!”  Some climbed up on the windows and looked in them – they were chased down.  Everyone still yelled, “We want George!”  And then the curtains opened and some man looked out.  Everyone yelled louder, “We want George!”  Meantime we’d met up with another friend of ours, Howard S. who had a room in there.  Everyone continued shouting “We want George!”  Finally the curtains opened and there stood George, grinning and waving to everyone.  After a b it he waved goodbye, and everyone yelled a bit louder.  It all felt like 1964 again, us yelling and him waving and grinning out the window at us all.  Finally he left the window.

Earlier a police car had arrived.  I thought they’d take us all away.  Overheard the cop saying he was there to arrest the doorman.  We did get into the hotel.  Howard having a room there, but that’s as far as we got.  They had a list of names and as you went into the party, they checked your name off.  So we didn’t get in.  Tebbens got in somehow of course.  Somehow we’d missed seeing George leave, but we all got together to celebrate what had happened, then called it a night and were to meet again the next morning in front of George’s hotel.

We met about 9am except for Howard and George.  Howard got there too late and George (as in Tebbens) had to work.  We stood around for an hour or so.  Char B. met up with us.  We all kept getting crazy remarks from the limo driver, “Why do you still do this?  “You stand out in the cold all this time?”  Someone said, “Yeah, all day if we’d have to.”  We told him where we were all from.  Tempy told him Boston, and he said “you should’ve stayed there, that’s where he’s going next.”  (You can imagine how she reacted to that.)  Kay went to put money into the meter while the limo driver watched her and said, “Is that your car?”  She said “yeah,” and the other guy with the limo driver wrote down her license plate number.  They brought out his luggage then and loaded it into the limo, and then out came George!  Looking surprised as ever, wearing a plaid tweed hat and an army jacket.  He grinned and said hello to us and got into the limo and signed some autographs.  And then the limo took off and so did we.  Tempy, Char, Kay and I ran to the car to follow him.  The limo was already 3 blocks away and almost lost in the traffic.  We had lost it earlier.  We’d found out he landed at Midway Airport in a private jet, so we took off for there.  Getting out of the traffic finally, and onto the Expressway doing about 80.  No sign of the limo.  Kay got it up to about 90.  Still no sign of the limo and then suddenly it came into sight.  We’d caught up with them!  We were all yelling and going mad.  We calmed down a bit, went off the exit with them, got a red light.  The driver looked into the rear view mirror and Kay waved at him.  George and the guy in the back seat then turned around and waved, and we slunk down into the seat.  They turned into the airport and went into a gate leading onto the field.  Tempy and Char jumped out of the car while Kay and I parked it in the middle of the road next to the gates.  WE all ran onto the field.  George was getting out of the limo and going up the stairs leading onto the plane.  He got to the top, stopped and turned around and waved to us.  We waved back and he disappeared into the plane.  Someone looked out the window, but the windows being dark, we couldn’t tell who it was.  The plane started up and we stood back watching it as it took off and disappeared from sight.  George was off for Boston and so was Tempy, as we took her to the airport.  By the way, remember the one who wrote our license number down?  He did that to clear it with the guards or whoever at the airport –otherwise, they would’ve stopped our car from following the limo up to where the plane was!

Everybody's Happy

Photo by George Tebbins

I really like this photo.   Paul and Linda look happy and the fan is wearing the exact same sweater my Dad used to wear in the 1970's.

The Wings Super-fans

I love that I recognize so many of the names from this clipping from the Wings Fun Club newsletter because of the Beatles fanzines that I have been reproducing here over the years.   While I realize that I do not know any of the fans listed here, I feel like I sort of do know them through their stories and finding their photo and name mentioned in the Fun Club really is awesome.

Back to the Egg

The Long and Winding Driveway

I don't think of myself as a jealous person, but I do have feelings of jealous towards the Apple Scruffs and the group of fans who traveled around on Paul's tours of the 1970's.   I am jealous because when I was a young teen-early twenties, there wasn't anything exciting Beatle-wise going on.   Sure I had the Anthology, but I couldn't follow the fellows around with that.   Paul wasn't touring.  Ringo was touring some, but mostly in in countries I knew little about.   Besides, I didn't have (and I still dont' have) close Beatle pals that I could call up and say "hey...let's go follow Ringo around Russia!"   

I was growing up in a time where it was extremely "un-cool" to like the Beatles.  "Aren't they all dead?"   "You still like those old guys?"  Is the stuff I heard all of the time.   No one liked the Beatles but me.   When I found the Internet in 1995, my eyes were finally open to the fact that I wasn't the only one out there!    But I still am looking for Beatle fans in my area that want to do "Beatle stuff" with me.   

Anyhow....I live vicariously through these wonderful stories.    This one finds some fans sneaking into the party that Paul held at the end of the Wings over America tour in 1976.    This isn't the first time we have read about George Tebbens and Tempy Snow sneaking into a Beatle event.   This story was from the fanzine, "With a Little help from my friends"  issue #55 and it was written by Nancy Lester.

the invitation where the guest were told to wear white

The McCartneys mingle with the Jacksons at the party

The spring of 1976 couldn’t’ have been better for myself and sever other good friends when we all set out to follow Paul’s American tour.  Luck was unbelievably on our side as we somehow managed to land excellent seats to 16 of Paul’s concerts, front row center reserved – thanks to a loyal and devoted friend who stood in line (slept in line, ate in line etc.) for days on end with the reward being the absolute best in the house.  Joy and Pat have asked me to recall some funny memories during those weeks, particularly concentrating on the Los Angeles stop at the end of the tour and our “party crash.”

The U.S. tour was officially over and Paul and Linda were throwing a farewell bash (just a small one, you know, only about 5 million people were invited), and news of the location and time leaked fast.  Invitations had been sent to scores of celebrities, local politicians and friend s of the McCartney’s but not a single invite to any of us fans, of course.  Maybe he just forgot.  I’m sure that’s it, so we decided to attend the party anyway.  The party was to begin at 8:00p.m. and the location was in Beverly Hills at the Harold Lloyd Estate, so we decided to arrive at the house quite some time before, just in case we would get in or at best see some celebs arrive.  Our timing was perfect and we had a front row spot on the sidewalk beside the driveway.  This being a post party so to speak, we had all dressed up in our best and looked quite glamorous having discarded our jeans, sandals and Wings t-shirts for the evening.  Even our hair had some curl and a little make-up was thrown on.  Hey, we were ready!  Many people lined the entrance to the driveway and security was beefed up, but we found all of the security people to be very nice to everyone and they seemed to truly understand that all we wanted was to stare.  It was at this point that we were talking to someone that had seen one of the invitations sent to the guests.  The exact wording of the invitations isn’t clear to me now but I do distinctly remember reading the party that said, “All Guests Must Wear White to be Allowed Entrance.”  Okay, whatever turns you on I guess.  It didn’t seem to bother us at the time, and then we realized what we were wearing.  Black.  Yep, me in particular wearing a nice pair of black dress pants and a sparkly top, also in your basic evening black.  Now I think of it, I guess we came off as the original Ebony and Ivory.  

We didn’t have to wait too long until a beautiful white Corvette pulled up to the entrance being driven by Paul himself and Linda beside him.  He waved to us all and flew up the driveway at top speed.  We continued to hold our ground and by 10 p.m. we had seen several celebs drive in – Ryan O’Neil, Nilsson, Rick Nelson, Tony Curtis, Dustin Hoffman, Frank Zappa, Olivia Newton-John, rod Steward, and at one point the crowd roared due to a rumor that George Harrison was arriving.  He never did show, however. 

During our vigil we noticed that across the street were several large buckets with long-stemmed carnations and a note attached to each that were being given away to the fans that had been waiting so patiently.  We all took one of course and the stiff parchment paper with gold letter attached to each carnation read, “Thanks for coming, Paul and Linda.”

The evening was long and people and celebs ventured in and out as we kept our precious space until about 2 a.m. when it seemed that the guests were beginning to leave in large numbers.  The huge gates at the end of the driveway were left wide open for cars to pass through and floodlights were blazing from every direction it seemed.  The guards were pre-occupied with directing traffic so it seemed a good time to take one small step toward the long driveway and to the party at the top.  I looked around at my friends who seemed glued to their spots and wearing inquisitive expressions such as “Where are you going?”  Tempy had the same idea as me and together we side-stepped an inch at a time closer and closer until we were finally through the gates.  Each step brought me closer and closer to a cardiac arrest as I eye police, security, limos, and tour roadies all directing and going in a million different ways at once.  I was sure the cops would grab my arm at any second and cart me downtown for fingerprinting and mug shots, so to say my poor nerves were on fire is an understatement.  Tempy was always approximately 10 feet in front of me, always looking back and calmly mouthing, “come on, look like you belong.”  Right.  Sure.  Maybe that’s easy for some of you who are reading this but Tempy and I were the Lucy Ricardo and Ethyl Mertz of the world that night.  The first stop of the driveway stood three very lovely black girls all dressed in glitzy evening gowns and who later I swore were the Pointer Sisters because someone mentioned that they had sung at the party.  We tried to “cool” our way past them when one says, “Hi!  Are you with the band?”  Fear still had the lead and waves of intelligent comments came gushing forth like, “Huh?  Well, uh…”  Period.  Keep going, kiddo.  A steady creep to the left got us out of guard range and we practically had to hold hands till we reached the top of the driveway due to lak of any light whatsoever.  “Tempy?  Are you there?”  “Where are we?”  Finally as if a door had opened into an incredibly illuminated ballroom we were there.  I mean really in. 

Fear was so overwhelming that limbo seemed to be the current state now, you know, no nerves, no pain, no air! Something happened at this point that seemed to save our lives.  To our immediate right stood two people who looked vaguely familiar.  Possibly some fellow crasher fans.  Sure enough I spied George, a guy we knew and had spent some time with travelling from city to city although that evening I had no idea he was there. Without any concern, or was it such a flair of “cool” he moseyed over to us, drink in hand and  uttered, “Glad you got in.”  Now, have you ever experienced a search for something but you can’t find it because it’s right in front of you?  My whispered conversation to George, “Where’s Paul?”  “right there.”  “where?”  “Right there.”  “Where???”  “In front of you face, stupid!”  Yes, sure enough there stood Paul about 4 feet in front of us.  He was wearing white pants, a white short-sleeved shirt with a black vest and brown leather sandals.  Good grief, I thought I’d pass out right there and continued to state at this gorgeous man trying to take in every possible aspect of his person, but never getting my gaze beyond those eyes.  It really isn’t fair for any man to have such perfect skin and such huge dark eyes with lashes you wouldn’t believe.

Paul was standing to the side and I remember him smiling a lot as various people approached him, and he seemed, no, no seemed, was happy to see them all.  He had a drink in his left hand, coke with perhaps something mixed and I noticed Linda a bit later standing to his right.  Linda wore a dress with the well-known feathers on the shoulders, must like one of her stage costumes, but not as elaborate.  Being totally transfixed to Paul’s face, I decided to try at this point to act as if thought I (we) were “invited” guests and casually glance around and not stare at Paul so much.  Now, this might have been down a lot more convincingly if I wasn’t wearing black.  I could’ve melted in with the waiters perhaps so as not to appear too ridiculous. I took hold of George’s arm hoping we’d look like a couple but actually out of sheer terror.  I remember seeing Olivia Newton-John walk up to Paul as she was leaving and they both smiled and then kissed in a friendly way.  She thanked Paul for the party and mentioned that she had to leave.  It was at this point that I noticed how tan Paul was and especially how tan his feet were.  Yes, his feet.  As George, Tempy and I stood and stared for what seemed only two seconds, Paul must’ve known that we were there only inches behind him because he would glance in our direction but look away very quickly.  Tempy stood with a grin that  I thought would break her face and George was ever so calm with his drink as he sort of nudged us up closer to Paul’s back.  As if it was a planned appointment, Paul slowly turned around to look at the three of us face to face.  I was so hypnotized by this terrific looking man that I couldn’t move and I think poor George felt my fingernails digging into his arm.  I’m not sure.  George extended his hand out to Paul, and Paul shook with him as George said, “Hi Paul!”  “hi George, nice to see you.”  Yes, Paul knew him.  Tempy on my right stuck her arm out and across my face to shake Paul’s hand too and he smiled while taking her hand with a “How ya doin’?”  Nope, I couldn’t move.  Not an inch.  Paul smiled at Tempy and turned his back again.  Just as I was mentally slitting my throat for not having uttered a sound or at least said hello, he turned back around slowly and held out his hand.  I sorta looked at it and then took his hand.  Yes, it’s real all right, and warm and soft and wonderful!  His grip was firm though which surprised me and he looked at me and said, “Hello, my darlin’ how are you?”  Well, the words, “my darlin’” were ringing loud in my head and I’m sure Paul realized how petrified I was, he can usually sense these things.  My big comment came gushing back, a meek, low, whisper, “hi.”  I don’t know why but at that point the nerves left.  I was calming and could actually feel real blood begin to circulate again.  Paul turned and began to mingle with the remaining guests so we decided to head for the bar.  “Sorry we’re closed.”  Great.  To the right was a table with t-shirts in all sizes, they were white with the Wings logo on the sleeve.  Tempy was by now back to her old self and decided to take a souvenir, for all our friends.  She plopped on the ground, purse wide open, and began stuffing t-shirts in by the handfuls.  Well, with purses bulging, we stood up and noticed Paul and Linda getting into that lovely white Corvette to leave.  We saw them drive away and headed back down the drive to our friends with heads held high and nerves subdued.  What a time we had.

Then there’s the day we followed Paul’s limo from his Chicago farm to the arena and had a real race with the limo driver.  Paul egging him on.  How embarrassing!  Or the time Trevor Jones arranged for us to meet with Linda backstage.  And remember in LA how Melissa rolled won a hill without any pants on?  Believe me, it’s a heck of a story, but all so logical.  Really.  What memories.  Thank you my friends.