Meeting McCartney was a Thrilling Event For Newspaper Reporter
By GaryLeftwick
The Time-Herald
May 8, 1993
It's been said that one should never aspire to meet his heroes. Several days ago, before my long journey to meet Paul McCartney came to a somewhat unexpected halt, I would have agreed with that statement.
Last Saturday, I was lucky enough to get to meet McCartney face to face before his concert at the Georgia Dome. The saga began when I first heard that Paul was going to follow up his triumphant comeback tour of 1989-1990 with another agenda of concerts this year.
On a cold morning in February, several friends and I bought tickets to the Atlanta show. After being fortunate enough to get seats in the 16th row, I was brash enough to suggest that I should try and get a press pass to photograph the show. Little did I know what was to follow.
A few days later, I sat down and composed a letter and faxed it to Cellar Door Productions, the promoter of the tour. For the next several weeks, I waited, but no answer arrived. Then last Friday morning, I was working busily to get a major story finished before a deadline, the phone rang. "Good morning. This is Gary," I said, with my usual rehearsed greeting.
A woman on the other end began talking so fast that I missed her name and had no prayer of catching her in the conversation. However, I did pick out the words "Paul McCartney". I have developed a talent for recognizing those two words; just ask anyone who knows me. The adrenaline that shot through my body was enough to be lethal. The gist of the conversation was that I was to meet with other members of the press at gate E of the Dome for a press conference. I was shocked that what I was just a flippant suggestion had become reality.
I called my friends and family and people who I'm not sure that I actually met, to tell them the great news. Eventually, but not nearly soon enough, it was Saturday. I arrived at the Dome with my fiancée, Becky, and began a long wait.
Security people were the most unorganized group I've ever seen. But then I met Paul McCartney's publicity staff. Soon, 15 other photographers and I were herded to where a photo opportunity was going to be staged.
While waiting, I saw this teenager who looked exactly like Paul. In an instant, I knew exactly who he was. "You're James", I said to the red-headed youth after I realized he was McCartney's only son; the resemblance was amazing. "Yeah, right", he said. End of conversation.
The next thing I knew, I heard someone say, "Here we go". I looked down the long hallway of the Coliseum, and there was Paul. I won't say the time stood still, but I'll be darned if it didn't slow way down.
Being the semi-alert journalist that I am, I stayed conscious enough to aim my camera at McCartney, and I looked through the lens. He stared right at me and said, "So you want to take some pictures?" I think it was at this point that I realized I actually was going to meet Paul McCartney, but I must confess that I was more like, I'M GOING TO MEET PAUL MCCARTNEY!.
I fired a roll of film as Paul, his wife, Linda, and his band clowned around in a bath of camera flashes. Then I realized that I had to hurry back to the press conference. We had been warned sternly that if we were not in the press room before he arrived. We were not going to be in the room when he was there.
I made it to the press conference and grinned at the sour-faced publicists as I took my seat in the middle of the front row. Soon, Paul arrived and charmed those of us in the room. After listening to a barrage of questions, which can be best be described as dumb, I decided I had come up with a good question .
Before I knew it, my hand was in the air. Paul ignored it several times, then his personal aide announced that there was time for only a couple more questions. Soon, Paul looked me in the face and asked for my question. I've listened to a tape of the press conference several times and swear that my voice did not quiver. I asked Paul about a return to live music and acoustic instruments, which is making music more energetic these days. Paul went off autopilot and seemed genuinely interested in answering my question. I then told him that my band is called Sea of Green. We took the name from a line in Yellow Submarine. Paul smiled and said, "Great, cool. Well, good luck."
That was it, my band had received the blessing of Paul McCartney, the most popular figure in music and perhaps one of the most recognized celebrities in the world, had wished us luck
. After that, McCartney was whisked away, and we were left to wait half an hour before being escorted into the Dome to shoot the first two songs of the show. There we were, a group of photographers standing in front of the stage, being eyed with envy by people sitting in the front rows.
Then the film, which opens the McCartney show, started, footage of McCartney frolicking for a camera in late 1969 flickered across the single screen. Then with a flash, all the screens came to life with film of The Beatles performing the song "Help". That is the point where I lost it. The fact that I had met Paul and was about to stand 30 feet from where he would be performing hit me like a ton of bricks. Watching images of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, four people whom I've dedicated my life to studying, I began to cry. This was it. I had reached the summit. I had met Paul McCartney. I had met one of my greatest heroes.
The concert began as Paul and the band launched into "Drive My Car." After getting comfortable with the audience, McCartney came over with a puzzled look. He searched out my camera and played right into it.
Next thing I know, we had been shuffled out and robbed of our photo passes. I was running to stash my camera and head inside for the rest of the show. It was when I reached the floor of the Dome that I realized I had actually achieved what I'd so jokingly suggested months ago.
I felt different since last Saturday. In the short time we spent in the same room, I realized that Paul McCartney is probably the most optimistic person I've ever met. I've come to believe that hope is contagious, and I've noticed that things no longer bother me as much. Thanks, Paul. You were so right when you said "And in the end they love you take is equal to the love you make."
