Walking into Abbey Road

 

Meeting Paul in the Windy City

Here is a good story about a fan who did not win the contest to meet Paul during the "Broadstreet" promoting, but did have several meetings with him that day.    It comes from the Feb/March 1985 issue of the Write Thing and was written by Mike Matela.




It was a rainy and windy night in Chicago.  I arrived at the Ambassador East about 10pm and saw a few people sitting out in front holding signs and pictures of Paul McCartney.  I tried sneaking up, but I took one step off the elevator and was informed to please go back down, that's when I knew for sure hew as there.  So the wait started.  I lasted until one in the morning and went home dejected.  I set my clock for five am because I heard he'd been jogging the other day.  October 19, 1984, five o'clock came and jumped out of bed and headed back downtown Chicago.  A 25 minute  ride took fifteen minutes.  I was flying!    When I got there the same devoted girls were still there from last night.  I have to give them a lot of credit.  And the wait continued and it got colder and colder and much more windy.  We all stood by the entrance hoping to get a glimpse of Paul.  Then the next thing you know a voice comes out saying, "excuse me, I'm running late."  It was Paul!  He was coming in from jogging by himself.  Everyone there was shocked.  While we were looking for him to come out, he must have run right by us.  Luckily I somehow managed to take a slightly out of focus shot.  That sneak!  After that meeting my adrenaline was so high, I knew there was no way I was leaving.

Three limos pulled up about 9am, and people began to sense something  was going to happen.  About 9:15 he came out with Linda beside him.  Before you knew it, he was surrounded by people.  Luckily I got to take a couple of shots.  After he hopped into his limo another Beatle fan I'd met named Rich asked me if I wanted to hop into his car and follow him to the Ritz Carlton and of course I said yes.  We actually blew two red lights on Michigan Avenue, trying to keep up wit Paul.  We got there in time to catch him coming out of his limo.  We then found out he wouldn't be out for about three hours.  So I went to get some more film.  Later I found out that ten of my best pictures didn't come out because I trusted the lady there to load my camera.  Later on, back at the hotel we found out he was having lunch on the 12th floor and we shot up there and sat around.  And before you know it, he popped up, walking right toward us.  He came over and said hi, hugged the girl I was with (they died!) and then let me take those 10 pictures I was talking about.  Then he said he had to run because he had an interview with Gene Siskel.  Believe me, it was all too good to be true.

I got to meet him one more time about an hour later, which proved to be the highlight of the day.  He came out wit h the press and I caught up to him and asked him for an autograph.  He said "sure."  I shook his hand and said, "thanks for everything Mr. McCartney."  And that was it.  I'm still to the moment on cloud nine!


Side note from Sara:    The interview with Siskel was where Paul asked Siskel what he thought of the film and Gene admitted that he thought the whole thing was terrible.    It was reported that Paul was VERY mad at this and was close to throwing a glass of Orange Juice at Gene Siskel!      

The Long and Winding road

These photos were taken by Jorie Gracen at the same event that is talked about in this story

The Long and Winding Road

By Maureen Lowry (Beatles Fans Unite fan club)

It took place back in ’95.  Paul and wife, Linda were here in Chicago to promote Linda’s second veggie book.  They would be having a reception at a restaurant downtown.  A friend of mine, who works for a local radio station, called to say that he was positive he could get a couple of passes to get in and meet the couple.

Not believing this could all be true, I went about my business and tried not to think about any more about it.  I had to go out to a bridal shower the same day we were to meet Paul.

My friend still wasn’t sure that morning if we would still be able to go.  I told him I wouldn’t be home, but to contact my husband if he heard any more.  I went to the bridal shower which was miles away from home.  I heard nothing from my husband, so I figured it was over; we wouldn’t go.

As I arrived home later, my husband said that my friend had called and we would be going.

It was all as if I were in a dream.  I did everything so nonchalantly, as if I do it every day.

We arrived at the restaurant, were let in, and were given tastes of Linda’s food.  I was still extremely calm.  Suddenly, off in the corner, I saw camera’s flashing.  All my dreams came true as “he” entered the room with Linda.  And for the first time in my life, he was only a few steps away!  Immediate tears came to my eyes, but not wanting Paul to think I was a “lunatic”, I held back the emotions.

He stood almost directly in front of us, and began receiving his guests.  As we waited to walk up to him, I was talking to my friend, but could “feel” that someone was looking right at me!  I glanced over to Paul, and found this—it was HE who was looking directly at me!  Our eyes met, and he winked at smiled and nodded his head.  Wow, he noticed me!

It was now our turn to meet him.  I stood right at his left side, while my friend, who had met him before started talking to him.  I just stood there, trying my best to take in everything about him, all the while “shaking in my boots!”

Suddenly , I heard my friend say, “Paul, I want you to meet my friend, Maureen.”

He looked right at me, held out his hand, and I shook it.  Then I told him about our fan club, “Beatles Fans Unite” and he said, “Hey, that’s cool!”  I also mentioned to him that I am an artist, and he asked what kind of art I enjoy doing. 

Though my favorite art is drawing the Beatles, I didn’t want to bring up “that” name, not knowing if he would appreciate it or not, so I dumbfoundly just said, “Uh, I like drawing, YOU!”

He laughed so hard and once again responded with “cool!”  I then proceeded to ask him if he would mind autographing a photo of himself that I had brought along.  He very kindly agreed, and added that he was happy to have met me. 

I actually believe that my “blunder” about my drawing made him feel at ease and gave him a  bit of a laugh.

We stayed a bit longer, and I just couldn’t stop watching his every move.  I didn’t get the opportunity to actually meet Linda, as they were moving things along too fast, but she seemed so sweet and some who had met her agreed that she was a very friendly lady.

Paul was wonderful, friendly, funny and very handsome!   It is a time I will forever cherish!

When I arrived home later, I began to tell my husband and children all that had happened, but as I did, all the pent up emotions came flowing.  I broke down and cried, but they were tears of extreme happiness!!

Now each time I see the photo with his signature, I am reminded of my dream come true.

Advertising on Abbey Road wall

Do they still advertise upcoming releases on the walls of Abbey Road?   I think this is an interesting idea.

The Gruesome Twosome in London

Photo by Jorie Gracen

Photo by Jorie Gracen

Mindy and Paul  photo by Jorice Gracen

Here are the Paul encounters by Jorie and Mindy from October 1978, during the time that Paul was recording "Back to the Egg"."  This one was published in the Fall 1978 issue of the McCartney Observer. 

The Gruesome Twosome in London

By Mindy G.

Our story begins at a well-known recording studio located on an equally well-known street in London – EMI on Abbey Road.  After much finagling, we finally managed to get ourselves a tour of the studio for a Chicago rock paper.  We knew Paul was supposed to record there that week (Oct. 2-6 1979), sly devils that we are.  But all our connections missed that day, because we missed his grand entrance (tales of him being pulled along on a trolley and otherwise acting bonkers were told to torture us later) and while in the studio, we were steered pointedly away from studio 2 here Paul and company were hanging out.  We nevertheless heard some good stories about Paul and the Beatles and lingered in a mixing room where they were readying a Beatles early hits package for Germany.  EMI is just the place for Beatles freaks – everyone walking around there has long memories (all of the Beatleish) and lots of love and respect for Paul.  What about him, you’re no doubt screaming.  Well, like loyal fans we went back that night to catch him as he left.  He walked out with Linda who was holding James and we made a beeline for the car (a green rolls).  He was busily putting things away in the trunk with his back to me, so I just said “Paul” and he turned around.  What a shocking moment – everyone should have one.  He looked so young and beautiful, 20 times better than his pictures, that I was just flabbergasted.  Pulling myself together, I waved a picture of him and asked him to sign it.  “Could you wait just a minute, I forget something” and he bounced back into the studio.   I‘ve waited 14 years, what’s one more minutes after all.  Our friends Karen and Patty were chatting with Linda, already ensconced in the car with baby James, but Jorie and I were rooted to the spot, unwilling to waste a moment with Paul when he returned.  Said the ever pregnant Wing of plans for future Maccas, “I think four’s enough” (she’s had enough!).  Finally Paul comes bounding out (from a different door, thought he’d throw us off the track), runs right into the car and proceeds to back up.  Fearing for our lives and our London town postcards, we rushed up the steps, disbelieving.  All these years of anticipating a face-to-face with Paul and he was going to drive away without ever a “fab, gear!”  Jorie said disgustedly “Let’s get out of here.”  At that moment Mr. P. turns around all wide-eyed and innocent and says, “Did you want me to sign those then?”  No, we’d prefer it if you would just drive away without stopping.  Honestly!  He signed our photos without much comment.  We asked if he had received our gifts (given to Rosie at his house the week before) and he just said “No,” but a surprisingly interested voice from the other side said, “Did you bring them to MPL?  We haven’t been there yet.”  Nice of Linda to try and answer us.  I don’t know where Paul’s mind was that night, but it definitely wasn’t in front of EMI!  

Tuesday was a bit super session with Peter Townsend, Eric Clapton, two members of Led Zeppelin and various other superstars.  We didn’t see any of them; but did see Paul, Linda and Denny (and that was enough!).  Seems that one track on the new album will feature all these people – should be quite something to hear.  Big hurry that day – only stopped for a few seconds, but when he heard the motor drive on the camera, obligingly  made little chipmunk faces!  Very much the big star then, but looking just gorgeous in a white flowing top and print vest.  Your intrepid reporter was much too busy staring at Paul to give more than a glace to Linda’s electric green socks and pink dress.  She was, however, quite pleasant, although still surgically attached to Paul’s left arm.

 The next day, Wednesday, was doubly good – Paul came alone and in a playful mood.  He drove up, ironically enough, to the strains of “Got to Get you Into my Life” by Earth, Wind and Fire.  We ran over as he bounced out of the car.  I was wearing a LondonTown necklace, purchased at Beatlefest ’78 in Chicago in July.  He pointed at it and said, “That’s nice, where’d you get it?”  Unthinking, I replied, “At a Beatle convention.”  Oh no, it can’t be so!  The dread word wiped the smile off his face for a moment but he recovered quickly while I babbled on about conventions having a lot of Wings stuff, too.  Then Jorie and I both started to take his picture and he kindly took charge of the photo session.  “Ready?  One, Two, Three, click!” he said.  Of course, we clicked simultaneously, wouldn’t want Paul to think we were inefficient.  Fact is, none of my pictures from that day turned out, but I won’t tell him that!  As he turned to leave we said, “Could we pose with you for a picture?”  “Alright” he said after a moment.  I stood with him and just as I was deciding how close to stand he cutely poked me in the ribs with his elbow!  If you’ve ever been poked by one P. McCartney, you’ll know exactly how sexy that move is!  I took the hint and moved right next to him and took his right arm.  Click.  “Now it’s your turn,” he said to Jorie.  Should have been a camp counselor with his talent for organizing!  Jorie leaned against him and he smiled broadly while I tried to focus.  Then he started to walk away after the picture, but coyly came back, gave Jorie one of those famed poke in the ribs, winked, made a clicking sound and said, “Alright then?”  More than alright!  Thank you!  Tow Emi workers came out after this to ask us if we were happy now.  Probably saw the whole thing from the stairs, but we were beyond embarrassment.    After hours of waiting in front of EMI, you become immune to people’s stares.  Went back that night for another dose of Macca, but as there were other people there, we remained on the sidewalk till he drove out.  We waved.  He returned it with a wink and smile.   

Thursday was their day off, but with a little help from our friends, we discovered he’d be at RAK studio Friday.  Waited for the familiar green Rolls to drive up, but he pulled the old switch and rode in a very flashy red Jaguar.  Looking as flashy as the car in a blue jacket, sweater and tight blue pants, he hopped out, flipped his jacket up at us and stopped in mid-street to talk to an engineer from RAK.  Just another of Paul’s little torture tactics – make ‘em wait for it is his motto.  Not in the best of moods today, but we dearly wanted a personal autograph and we’d be back in the U.S. that night.  Jorie handed him the same photo as Monday night.  Unfortunately, he remembered it and was in a frightening mood.  “I signed this already,” he said.  Jorie, fearing for her autograph, said, “No you didn’t.”  But the famous mind was working overtime and he insisted, “I signed two of these outside of EMI.”  Of course he was right, but why give us an argument?  Those were for friends.   Jorie definitely insisted he didn’t sign it for her.  After one searching look, he gave up and scribbled his name and handed it to her with a smirk as if to say, “I know you’re lying, but I’ll do it anyway.”  She shoved it back and said “could you sign it ‘to Jorie?’” Some people are never satisfied, he must have thought, but he dutifully signed it, correct spelling and all.  Signed mine too, very nicely and walked in.  As he seemed annoyed by the whole incident, all my burning questions about the tour, album, and the lot were left unsaid.  New Wing Lawrence Juber (watch out for this one – he’s adorable) however, said Wings will tour the U.S. by summer and a new album should be out after December.

It was a real education meeting Paul and seeing him change into five different moods in as many minutes.  Some final words of wisdom to aspiring Macca hunters:  1.  Good hunting season is September-October or March.  2.  Essential gear should include a heavy coat, comfortable shoes, pen and Wings photo or book 3.  Certain words such as ‘Beatles’ should be avoided so as not to anger the big Macca 4.  Danger signals when stalking your prey include a hurried step, flaring nostrils, tight closed expression and curt replies.  You’ll be well rewarded for your efforts when with a wink and a smile you fall in love with him all over again.

Happy Birthday ot Brother Mike!

Mike McCartney:  December 4, 1981 Chicago, IL.  Photo by Barbara Beden

Photo by Jorie Gracen

Photo by Barbara Beden

Being the little brother of Paul McCartney must not always be easy.  But it seems like Mike has taken things really well.   In the early 1980's Mike did the fan circuit to promote one of his photography books.   I hear that he was an excellent speaker at the conventions.  In these photos he is at a bookstore in Chicago doing a signing.    Happy 69th birthday Mike!  Best wishes! 

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!

Jorie Gracen

If you think the name Jorie Gracen looks familiar it is because you most likely have seen it before. Jorie is a big time Paul McCartney fan. She has a book called "I Saw Him standing there..." which is full of photographs of Paul that she has taken over the years. She runs a great website for Paul fans.

I have heard Ms. Gracen speak at Chicago Beatlefest and I have to say that she is one die hard McCartney fan! Here is a story that she shared in the Winter 2001 issue of DayTrippin' magazine that I found to be really funny. It takes place in 1984 during the Broadstreet promotions.

One of my friends won through the Paul McCartney Fun Club, an opportunity to meet Paul up in his hotel room. She was one of five lucky people. We waited outside the elevators for her to come down and tell us every detail that happened up in the hotel room. So when she came down, we sat down a couch in the lobby and she sat down on the floor facing us, and told us her story. There were three of us on the couch--huddled together listening intently to every world she said. We were totally engrossed in the conversation, drooling over our favorite subject, and very envious of her being up in HIS hotel room. After awhile, I noticed that within our little huddle of girls talking about Paul, there was another head that was now among us that wasn't in the original group. I looked up and to my horror, I saw Paul--Paul's head--in our little huddle listening to my friend's conversation with us. I thought "Oh my God! How long has he been standing here, listening to what we've been saying about him?" We were totally mortified to know that Paul was listening to our private conversation about him. Paul stood up and pointed to my friend, who was on the floor falling over at this point, since she couldn't believe he was standing there and then pointed to each one of us as he said with his Liverpool accent, "Don't believe a werd she says!"