Wings on ice

Look at the police guard in the background trying to not be in the photo.  

Three Days in September 1975

Last week I posted Graeme's story and photos about meeting Paul and Linda in 1975.  Well Graeme has emailed me again with another story of meeting the McCartney's and seeing them in concert late that same year.  This is great stuff!   Graeme also brings up a good point.   We are Beatle fans, and obviously we love the Fab 4, but there is also a bond that we share and friendships that we form because of the Beatles that have lasted for many fans decades.   I often say that I very rarely have met a Beatle fan I didn't like.   Beatle fans are amazing people and it is so wonderful when I hear of people having important friendships because of the love of the Beatles. 

Graeme's ticket stub for the Newcastle concert

Paul McCartney concert at Newcastle City Hall September 16, 1975

Concert at Newcastle City Hall September 16 1975

Concert at Newcastle city Hall September 16, 1975

Jimmy McCulloch, Graeme Leonard, Joe English at the Westmoreland Hotel, London, 18th September 1975

Joe English, Nicky Pope, Jimmy McCulloch at the Westmoreland Hotel, London, 18th September 1975

Nicky Pope, Graeme Leonard, Paul McCartney at Cavendish Avenue, 18th September 1975

Paul & Linda McCartney, Cavendish Avenue, 18th September 1975 

Jimmy Copeland and Paul McCartney, Cavendish Avenue, September 1975 (all photos belong to Graeme Leonard. Posted by permission)

Three Days In September 1975...

In September 1975, less than a month after meeting Paul & Linda McCartney for the first time, Wings embarked on a 13-date UK tour and I was lucky to have tickets for three of the gigs... on three consecutive nights.  A lot had happened since seeing the band two years previously... Denny Seiwell & Henry McCullough leaving... the ‘Band On The Run’ and ‘Venus and Mars’ album releases... Jimmy McCulloch & Joe English joining.

The first of these concerts was at Newcastle City Hall on 16th September and I waited at the stage door for the band to arrive, but couldn’t get close enough to take any decent photos.  However, my seat in the third row that night more than compensated and I was able to get a few good shots of McCartney in action.  It was a fantastic performance by the whole band, with a much longer set than I’d experienced in 1973... including, to my delight, some Beatles songs.

The next day I travelled down to London for two shows at the Hammersmith Odeon, meeting up with my friend Nicky Pope and us going there together.  Another brilliant evening.

The following day was to become an unforgettable one...

I overheard the Wings tour bus driver, in Newcastle, talking about where the band were scheduled to stay in London.  It was the Westmoreland Hotel in St John’s Wood, NW8... only a few minutes away from the McCartney’s house.  So, on September 18th, Nicky and me decided it was worth a trip to the hotel for the chance to meet one or two of the band.  We arrived at an imposing and posh reception area, breezing through without a care in the world in the direction of the bar.  Incredibly, we got there just at the same time as Jimmy McCulloch was in the middle of a disagreement with the bartender.  The guy was refusing to serve Jimmy a beer as he believed him to be underage.  Jimmy didn’t protest too much although he was obviously unhappy about it.  To his great credit, at no time did he play the “hey, I’m a famous rock star” card.  Instead, he slipped some money into my hand and said, “get me a pint please and a drink for yourselves”.  He sat down near the window and waited for us.  Amazingly, considering we were both much younger than Jimmy, we got served without a problem and took the drinks over to his table.  “Cheers”!!  A few minutes later Joe English appeared and made the party complete.  What an experience!!!  It was surreal... sharing an afternoon with two of the musicians we’d seen on stage with Paul McCartney less than 24 hours earlier and due to repeat that night.  After about an hour in the bar it was time for them to leave for Hammersmith.  Before doing so, they kindly agreed to have some photos taken with us outside the hotel.  We gave them our thanks and went merrily on our way...

That should’ve been enough excitement for one day, but... there was more to come.  We walked the short distance to Cavendish Avenue, fully expecting to find a throng of fans outside the house.  However, there wasn’t a single person in sight.  Our immediate thought was that we were too late and Paul & Linda had already made their way to the venue.  We chose to hang around for a little while... just in case.  It proved to be a wise decision.  We were soon joined by two other people.  A middle-aged lady called Kathleen Copeland had brought her son, Jimmy, over from Northern Ireland to see Wings as a treat for his 16th birthday.  Then suddenly, to our surprise, the gates of Number 7 slowly opened and a bright green Porsche (it was a bright orange Porsche in August!!) emerged.  Wow!!!  Paul & Linda on their way to the gig.  They stopped for a chat with us and to have a few photos taken... such a lovely way for them to treat their admirers.

Afterwards, we got talking to Jimmy Copeland and exchanged addresses.  We’ve remained close friends ever since... often meeting up for McCartney concerts, in various locations, during the past four decades.

So, onwards to Hammersmith Odeon... all of us.  Venus and Mars are alright tonight... for the third night running.

These recollections are not just about my adoration of Paul McCartney & Wings in the 70’s... it’s also a story of lifelong friendships, as a result of chance encounters.

Jimmy & Nicky... so glad we shared those wonderful youthful moments.

So glad we still share the memories.

The Greek Street Gang (part 3)

After he shoots the little boy.  March 15

Jimmy hamming it up for my movie camera.  March 16.  Photo by Silvia Purbs

Jo poses with Joe English

More of the continuing story of Barb, Jo, Silvia, Shelia and Cathy.   This time we get to find out why Barb titled the story, "The Greek Street Gang."  

 

On Tuesday we asked him if he’d had a nice anniversary and he thanked me for the card and flowers (We’d left them at his house on Sunday and didn’t disturb him on this one day off).  He was in a very relaxed and comfortable mood.  It seemed kind of funny to me that all of us fans were standing in front of him almost in a line and all taking pictures and he didn’t mind at all.  He and Linda just stood there and posed and talked and kidded around.  One of the girls had her baby son along dressed in a cowboy outfit and Paul said, “I like your suit, I’m going to get one like that!”  The little boy took out his toy gun and “shot” Paul.  Straight-faced Paul pointed his finger at him and shot him back saying “Too late.  I shot you first.”  Then he laughed.

We seemed to be waiting longer than usual for him to come on Wednesday, probably because it was freezing cold and even four layers of clothing and two pairs of socks and boots didn’t seem to help.  I was keeping my eyes peeled this time.  We used to joke about everyone coming down the street; little old ladies with grey hair, nuns, Indians in turbans, anything exotic.  “We know it’s you Paul, can’t fool us in that disguise.”  “Very effective, Paul, the grey beard and the cane are a nice touch.”  You become increasingly odd as the hours go by.

I had rented a movie camera for this day.  Paul had always been so friendly and stayed out for so long I thought we could easily use up a three min. film of his arrival.  I wanted to catch him coming down the block this time so I could film that too.  Then we spotted the by now familiar pink Mini and I was all ready for him this time.  But when the car got up to the gate just Linda was in it.  Dave Simpson, a London fan, asked her where Paul was.  “I’m not going to tell you, ha ha”, she laughed.  We thought that was a little uncalled for.  So I took film of her.  And then when Denny came I filmed him and got some interesting footage of him giving Jo a beautiful double-take.  When Jimmy came I filmed him trying to park his car and managing to scrape someone else’s car trying to park into the crowded lot.  He looked very embarrassed and sheepish and put his finger to his lips mimicking that none of us should say anything to anyone.  A few days earlier I had asked him if I could take his picture, adding that he looked so nice in his red jacket, and he had just said, “No” very abruptly.  So I thought, O.K. I’m not going to ask again, I just won’t have any pictures of him.

So here he was coming up to me all smiles.  I probably had a very leery look on my face.  (We always joke that fans are extreme masochists and expect to get treated like shit, and don’t really know how to handle friendliness.  There’s an element of truth in that joke.)

Jimmy really surprised me by patting me on the shoulder and saying, “You can take all the pictures you want,” And he proceeded to strike several cute poses, did a little dance and made motions at the movie camera.  I filmed it all but I had a hard time believing it all.  (I found out later that he’d had a run-in with the police about speeding that day he’d been so grouchy and his license had been taken away for a few days).

Back at the gate, still waiting for Paul to show up, I saw Trevor come out and I tried to look harmless.  I think ‘ole jolly Trev eats fans for snacks and I didn’t want to be his dessert.  He was motioning for someone to come up to him.  I looked around, please, lord, say it’s not me.  I was sure he didn’t want to talk to me.  He has as much affection for me as I have for him.  But there wasn’t anyone else behind me so I finally got the message and went up to him.  Everyone else held their breath for me.  (I thought for sure he wants to smash my movie camera).  Instead he asked me if I wanted Jimmy’s watchband.  He looked just as mean and nasty as ever.  I said, no, not really, but I’ll ask if any of the others want it.  Trevor growled and jabbed a finger and me, “He wants YOU to have it.”  Ok Ok.  I didn’t argue this was Trevor being friendly; I wasn’t going to push my luck.  Jimmy had broken his old watchband and decided to make a present of it to me probably to make up for that one moment of grouchiness.  Pretty nice guy.  I’d see that it got a good home.

When I went back to my friends they all wanted to know what Trevor was hollering at me about.  They’d heard the YOU part come across loud and clear.

Later the woman who works in the canteen there came out and told us, “If you’re waiting for Paul, he’s in there already.”  Oh, good we’ve waited for three hours in the cold and Linda couldn’t even tell us that simple fact and save us from ourselves.  We told the lady that, and she said it figures.  There was no love lost between her and Linda, she says that when Paul stops to talk to her Linda acts jealous and pulls him away every time.  (And this woman looks like someone’s friendly grandmom!)  We found out that Paul had been inside since noon.

I still had the movie camera with me on Thursday determined to try again.  That must have been a jinx because he didn’t come at all on this day.

Chuck it all in then.  We’d spend Friday taking care of other business matters.  One of our errands was to personally pick up tons of copies of all the books and magazines the club was selling through the Feb. newsletter.

We didn’t have to worry about being presentable, since there would be no one to present ourselves to.  We didn’t even mind when we got rained on.  One of our business deals was with Sue of the Wings Fun Club.  Fortunately for un- as the case may be her headquarters is in the McCartney Production office on Greek Street.  I’ve been there many times and Paul has never been around, so Jo and I felt safe in showing up in our wretchedly messy state.  Sue and I talked about the new “Club Sandwich” and how Paul planned the new layout and wanted to be the editor of it.  He picked out which drawings to use from the fans’ art section and Sue couldn’t figure out why he vetoed certain really brilliant painting of himself in favor of the rather crude drawings he actually selected (for those of you who receive the Fun Club’s newsletters you may also be wondering who Paul thinks is represented by the fan’s drawing of a horse’s ass with a head stuck on and a Wings sign on its back.  We have our theories!)

Anyway I paid her for 50 copies of “Linda’s Pix for ‘76” and said we’d pick them up before cloing time and she could bundle them up for us.

After a whole day of tramping around in the rain we returned at about quarter to six.  We were totally wrinkled and disheveled by this time, but this was just going to be a quick pick-up.  They’d tied the books together in 2 packages of 25 each.  Sue seemed in a hurry to have us leave with them.  So we struggled down the stairs and plopped them on the floor, gasping.  They were the most unkindly, things a ninety-pound weakling ever tried to pick up.  As we stood there dazed and wondering how we were going to get them even a step further we were suddenly joined by Jimmy McCulloch.  He wanted to know if he could help us with the books.  I said yes, and started to drag half of them outside to the sidewalk, expecting him to follow with the others.  He must have thought we were arriving and not departing, because he started up the stairs.  That left Jo and I standing there conspicuously in the doorway without a clue how we were going to get any farther.  We tried to haul the books to the nearest busy street so we could catch a cab back to our hotel, but we made it only as far as across the street.  We decided the only thing to do was go back up to the office and tell Sue they were too heavy for us to manage and pay her extra to mail them back to the States.  Just as we were going to go back upstairs Brian Brolly passed us and gave us a very suspicious glare as if we were just loitering in the McCartney Productions doorway expecting someone to show up.  We felt very stupid, we were just trying to take care of business in a mature adult manner and we still ended up lurking around like the typical fans we were every other day at EMI!  Can’t even manage to pass as a real person once a week.  To top it all off, because we get ourselves any further in one direction or the other who should come driving by the street looking for a parking place but Denny and Joe English in one car and Paul and Linda in their Mini!!

And we were in his doorway!  He’d think we’d been waiting there for him to show up, trailing him on his one day off.  Besides that we looked a mess, and besides that how would be explain the 50 copies of “Linda’s Pix.”  Jo didn’t want Denny to know she worked for a fan club of all things.  Only one sensible thing to do in a situation like that – hide!  The only place was the Mexican Restaurant next door, La Cucaracha.  We could watch everything behind the giant menu in the window.  We knew we were probably being ridiculous but there didn’t seem to be any other choice at the moment.  I called Silvia to help us carry the books somewhere and by the time she came the meeting must have been over because Denny and Joe were across the street in the pub.

Stowing our books with the kind restaurant people (who surely wrote us off as typical eccentric Americano gringos), we spent the rest of the evening in the pub too.  If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.  And finally did get all 50 of the books to our hotel by taxi.

Thinking about it later we realized we had had several clues of Paul’s impending arrival and should have taken advantage of them.  While we were still up in his office there’d been two phone calls.  The first was from Mike McGear and the second was from George Harrison.  His secretary didn’t seem to believe that it was THE George Harrison so we thought it was a prank too.  But they must have both called his house and found out he was due in his office and here they were tipping us off and we were too thick to catch on. 

You won't see me

I have heard Jorie Gracen tell this story in person at least twice at Chicago Beatlefest over the years.   The way she tells it is so funny!   When I found her story printed in the July/August 1976 issue of the Write Thing, I was happy to read it and be able to share it with you all.   I always think it is neat to read a Beatle fan meeting that was written shortly after the meeting occurred.    When this story was written, Jorie was just a Paul fan out to meet her favorite Beatle.   Jorie has "grown up" to be a rock photographer and some of her photos have appeared in the CD booklet that go with some of the Paul live CDs from the 1990s.  She also as a book of Paul photos called I saw him standing there.    This story was written along with Mindy Goldenberg.  The photos I included from the 1976 Wings tour were not taken by Jorie but I did include a photo of her and Paul taken during the "End of the World" tour.

Contained herein is the exciting saga of two ordinary obsessed girls who winged it around the U.S. of A. in search of Macca, only to meet with constant frustration.  A few bright moments lightened our futile adventures, such as our meeting with Joe English and the time Jorie almost got Paul's autograph. 

Our little saga starts in Chicago when Jorie, with a little help from her friends, obtained an official photo pass to catch Macca's gleaming smiles right below the stage.  Not wanting to pass up this golden opportunity to give Paul something personal, she had a head transfer photo of a Beatles butcher cover printed onto a black t-shirt (think he wears large?).  When he first appeared out of the mist, we all thought we died and went to heaven.  Jorie began to wonder if she'd be able to hold the camera straight (she did, for about 1500 pictures!).  She threw the t-shirt up to him during "Jet", and it landed with great accuracy right by the famous foot.  With the blindness that was to continually frustrate us, he looked right past it.  Denny Laine saw it however, and added to the moment immensely by laughing and snickering at Jorie's efforts to get Macca's attention.  She took the t-shirt off the stage and tried again, spreading it carefully in front of him so that the picture showed quite clearly.  At that point Paul went to the piano for "Maybe I'm Amazed".  When he returned to center stage for the acoustic set, still looking straight past it.  Jorie gave up and yelled desperately "Linda."  She promptly picked it up when Jorie threw it at her, figuring it was for her.  When she looked at the Beatles on the shirt, she was none too pleased and threw it down on the piano.  So much for trying to give a gift to the man who has everything!

After hearing from a once reliable source that the McCartney's were staying in Highland Park (a ritzy suburb of Chicago), we cruised around there the whole day, only to hear on the radio that he was actually staying in Libertyville. Back we went, checking out every stables and horse farm, to the utter amusement of one woman who wondered if we wanted some of the manure from Paul's horse as a souvenir.

In L.A. our luck was getting better all the time.  At the first concert, Ringo showed up after the second encore on stage, looking every inch like "Mr. Hollywood", shades and all.  The second night, everyone "went potty out there", Jorie ripped out her vocal chords screaming the "oh yeahs's" in "Soily" and Mindy almost got smothered to death when they stormed the stage.  The third night was flawless, especially when he picked up the red carnation we threw on stage after "Yesterday."

Naturally we were among the die-hards who waited for the limo to drive in every day at 5 for the sound checks, and out at the time between midnight and 2 am.  One afternoon, while driving in, Paul saw us and gave us the victory sign and a warm smile through the window.  Things like that make it all worthwhile!

But we were determined to meet him so we waited outside until 2 am the night of the last concert in L.A. along with about 50 other fanatics.  When we saw them getting into the car (security was very loose by this time), Jorie ran down the driveway and was rewarded by reaching the car before it took off.  She ran to the window and Paul waved to her.  She looked in and saw him resplendent in a while suit and dark shades, looking thinner and younger than onstage.  Excitedly, she grabbed a piece of paper hoping to get his autograph for posterity, and stuck her arm in the window with it.  All of a sudden a nasal voice from another corner of the limo said, "I have to close the window now", and proceeded to push the button.  Linda, of course.  Frantically Jorie cried, "Can I just have your autograph, Paul?" and Linda said, "Yes" while Paul nodded smiling.  He continued to sign his sign his name for what seemed like hours and then valiantly attempted to give her the autograph through the now closed window.  When he repeatedly shoved it against the glass, Linda generously opened the window, and then the long arm of the jailor man grabbed Jorie.  So Paul drove off into the night with his autograph and Jorie kept thinking "allI got was a photograph and I realize you're not coming back with my autograph."  At least she saw the famous face, though.



Undefeated, we drove up to Ringo's house the next day, after having been tipped off by some Showco people, bless them.  Spotting Joe English's car in the driveway, we thought where there's one Wing, there might be more and boldly knocked on the door.  After a few obligatory denials, the blonde woman who answered (it wasn't Lindsey de Paul), said that Joe was leaving for the airport and didn't have time to see us.  But just then, Joe bounded out, nice as can be, signed autographs and chatted.  He reacted a bit strangely when we mentioned Paul.  We asked if he had gone back to England yet and Joe said, a little disgustedly, "Paul went to the moon."  But it was still pleasant to end to our visit, as were the 5 Beatle movies we saw the next day at a local theater.  They must have known we were there!

But the next time the lights go down and he's back in town, you can believe that we will meet the Big Mac himself!