Laurie and Paul

 September 28, 1981 

Leaving it Until the Last Minute (Fan Meeting 1982)

No photos were taken during this meeting with Paul so I included a photograph of Paul from around this time period

 

Leving it Until the Last Minutes

By Laurie Ross

With a Little  Help From my Friends 

April 1983 (Issue #42)

    When I arrived in London on the morning of October 9, 1982, the biggest question and worry on my mind was, "Will I see Paul?" For the previous three years, I had been lucky enough to meet him at AIR or see him in concert, incredible luck, when you consider that in my office, where I work, I have to choose my holidays in January, so there are no last-minute plans for me. Except for in '81, the last two previous occasions I didn't see him until my last couple of days in London, which is hard on the nerves, to say the least. In fact, once I had to phone my boss and tell her a far-fetched story about my friend being injured in a car accident and how I had to take care of her. Luckily, she believed me. I hope she didn't hear my whoop of joy as I hung up the phone.  I got to see Paul, after all.

     Anyway, my hopes were a bit dimmed when I rang my London friend only to be informed that Paul had finished recording the day before I arrived. Grrr, however, I had three weeks in England altogether, and felt very hopeful. I spent a lot of time with my good friend Doylene, who was very patient with me and kept me company at MPL and at the gallery where Linda's photo exhibit was. Of course, we didn't see the man, as of course, he was in New York, but we didn't know that then. It's so humiliating and frustrating waiting outside MPL when you know the staff inside know exactly where Paul is, but wouldn't dream of telling you, and probably have a good laugh at your expense. It isn't hard to tell a Macca fan in Soho Square. We're the ones trying to casually read a paper while jumping every time a car stops in front of the building and craning our necks to look into "the" window. 

    After a week, I flew to Kenya for a marvelous two-week holiday. Of course, we Beatle fans are always sniffing out anything at all to do with them, so it wasn't surprising to find me madly going through a hotel's guest book, as I knew Paul had been there in November of 1966. This was at the Tree Tops game viewing hotel in the Adair forest. It's a fantastic place that is built on stilts and is in the middle of nowhere. Everyone has to travel together in a specially built bus, as the roads are so narrow and winding that a normal car just couldn't do it. A water hole and Salt Lick are right outside, and the animals come at all hours of the day and night. We weren't very lucky and only managed to see water buck, baboons, warthogs, and impala. 

    Anyway, I found Paul's signature. He had signed as Hunt Hanson from Frisco, USA, and right below him, Mal had signed his name. Someone had written "Paul McCartney incognito" beside his name, which made it easy for me. Of course, I had to take a photo of this (I was tempted to rip out the page, but would have had about 10 witnesses, so I thought better of it), much to the amusement and bewilderment of the other guests, the things we Beatle nuts do.

     I arrived back in London totally rested and ready for some serious Macca hunting. This time, I was on my own, as Doylene had gone back to the USA. I spent a couple of hours each afternoon at Soho Square, and the only thing I accomplished was to get on a first-name basis with all the pigeons that call the square home. Finally, I got fed up and took off to Cornwall for a few days, hoping that maybe one last week there would bring me luck. 

    On November 10, my last day in London rolled around, and after a futile trip to Berondsey where Paul had done a scene for his film two days previously. I finally admitted defeat. 1982 just wasn't my year to see Paul. I had a lovely holiday, and so what if my cake needed some icing? Cake is good by itself! I met my London friend for a pub lunch, and we headed back to her place for coffee. We got off the bus, and  I decided to have one last look at Cavendish. She lives quite close to him. We went on ahead, and I walked slowly down the road. In all my years of traveling to England, he had never been in that house. He was either on holiday or in Sussex. So you can imagine my shock when I walked by and saw that every light in the place was on. I had heard he had been spending a bit of time at Cavendish, but never dreamed he was living there.

     I raced back to my friend's place and dithered for over an hour over countless cups of coffee before finally deciding to go for it. I know Paul doesn't like fans at his house, but I was desperate and willing to take the chance. I arrived back at number seven at around seven o'clock and walked self-consciously up and down the road for 10 minutes or so. When two girls who haunt MPL turned up, they told me that Paul had been at Cavendish the night before, and had been furious to see them there, and that really made me feel good. I was ready to run! One of the girls chickened out and left. The other stayed to keep me company while we paced up and down. She entertained me with various tales of their encounters with Paul. None of them good. She seemed to think they were hysterical. Poor Paul. 

    About 15 minutes later, a car pulled up and out got Linda. I started walking towards her, smiling when to my horror and shock, she started screaming at us, "Go away! This is our private life! Leave us alone!"  I couldn't believe it. I started walking away and turned around to look at her again, as if it was some sort of nightmare. She yelled at me, "Get going or I'll call the police!"  The other girl, by this time, had headed for the hills, leaving me alone. All I could think of was that I'd never see Paul again, and I was totally shattered. Then I thought, "Why should I take this? I've never been a bother to her or Paul before", and I didn't consider myself one now, so I thought it wasn't the truth.

     So I yelled at her, "I've never been here before. I just want to see you and Paul before I go back to Canada tomorrow."  She started walking towards me, and I cringed, thinking she was going to hit me. She seemed angry enough. To my surprise, she started patting my arm and apologizing profusely. She seemed sincere about it, too. I blubbered on, nearly in tears about how I missed the AIR sessions by one day, and all my friends had seen him, and I just had to see Paul before I went home. Somewhere in there, I handed her a small binder I carried around to sign. She had thought I was with the other girl and felt bad that she had yelled at me. She told me to come back in an hour, and Paul would be there, or I could stay. I told her I'd stay, and she said that would be all right. I must have asked her three times if she was sure Paul wouldn't be angry at me. I'd just die if he ever yelled at me. (Cringe.)

     She was so nice to me that it was unbelievable. And while I'll never be a fan of hers, that experience has lifted her up a bit in my book. It wouldn't have surprised me if she'd invited me in for a cup of tea, but no such luck. As she went in the gate, she told me not to get too cold. James jumped on her as she went to close the gate, and he yelled something at her, but I didn't catch it. All I saw was a flash of golden hair and a little figure in pajamas.

     So I waited and waited. Every car that went down Cavendish gave me heart failure. It was a nice feeling, knowing that I was waiting outside his house with permission, but I still felt very self-conscious and practically sick with worry. An hour and a quarter later, a Range Rover pulled up and out gets Paul. With very unsteady legs and feeling sick to my stomach, I approached him and he looked at me curiously. As I got closer, he seemed to change, and his eyes got a warm look. So perhaps he remembered me from the year before. I'd like to think that.

     I started babbling about how Linda said it was okay to wait and that I was going back to Canada the next day. I just wanted to see him before I left. He said, "That's okay." I handed him the binder, open to Linda's signature, so he could see I had talked to her. While he signed it, I asked him how the filming was going. "Great." Was it a feature length? "Yeah." And would it premiere in the spring? "No, not until next fall." I  must have groan or made some name mark, because he looked up from the signing, gave the cutest smirk, and said, "Patience...." 

     It was then that he noticed the Rupert badge I was wearing. I had gotten it from Selfridge department store after going through their Christmas grotto, which was"Rupert Meets Father Christmas." He said, "What's that?" And I stupidly replied, "It's Rupert." He was holding on to the badge and was about to say something when I thought about how I had wanted to ask him about Kenya, and rudely interrupted him. I'll always wonder what he was going to say to me.

    I told him I'd been to Kenya and had seen his signature at Tree Tops. Could he remember signing in as Hunt Hansen? This was a trip 16 years back, mind you. He said, "Yes, that name sounded familiar." I asked if he enjoyed Kenya, and he smiled and had sort of a faraway look when he said "yes." Then he really startled me by asking if I'd liked Kenya. Had I stayed all night at the Tree Tops to see the animals, and what animals did I see? I rambled on about how great the photography was, how I loved the animals, and how I slept through the rhino at the Tree Tops. People knock on your door if they spot an uncommon animal, and I slept through it all and how I never did see one.

     I stopped to take a breath and probably just shut me up, he took my hand and shook it and said, "You're going back tomorrow then?"  And when I nodded, he said, "Well, have a good journey.  Tarrah." John Hamel, who had been standing quietly by the whole time, came forward, and they proceeded to unlock the gate. I started skipping down the street when I realized they were still there, so I stopped and watched them fumble with the lock. Don't know what the problem was. They finally got it open, and I watched Paul step inside. I never took my eyes off of him until the top of his head disappeared into the front door.

     I danced all the way back to my friend's place with a huge grin plastered on my face. I stopping once to examine my autograph. "All the best. Paul McCartney" with a lovely little face he'd drawn. I still had the grin on my face when I boarded the jet the next morning. And need I add that I didn't need a plane to fly home. I had the icing on my cake after all. 

MPL -- September 1984

I am still sifting through the stack of "With a little help from my friends" fanzines that I got back at the beginning of the year.  While reading through issue #49 (from January 1985),  I found this nice story about meeting Paul outside of MPL in 1984 written by Laurie Ross.   I wonder what issues Paul had the year before with Italian fans?

Both photos taken by Laurie Ross

MPL –September 1984

By Laurie Ross

Sometimes trying to locate the elusive Macca can be a frustrating experience.  After three days of waiting at AIR and MPL, my friends and I decided to take a day off.  Being down to my last few pounds, I chose to stay in London and see how much damage my Mastercard and I could do to Oxford Street while the others opted for day trips into the country.  After an exciting morning of doing my laundry, I headed down Oxford Street and bumped into a London friend of mine who told me Paul’s car was parked on a side street near MPL.

I headed there to find the usual crew of fans who had seen nothing.  Everyone always heard that if Paul’s at MPL, you can see him, so we figured that John (his driver) was using the car for some other purpose.  After 30 minutes or so, I got up to go for lunch, and for some reason had the incredible urge to take it back to Soho Square with me.  From time to time I glanced up at the building, and on one of the floors there was some fella waving his arms about – in the same way Paul does.  But he did not stand up and I figured that if he was there, the other fans would have told me.

All of a sudden a figure comes bounding to the window and waved to one of the fans – well we all flipped!  It was Paul!  I stood for the next 25 minutes or so just willing him to peek out the window again, but no such luck.   John came out to bring the car to the front of the building and we all made a mad dash for the door.  As John went in, he warned us not to take any photos without permission.

After five minutes of hopping around the pavement with a bad case of nerves, out he comes.  The next five words utter made me cringe, “What are you doing here?”—directed at the small group of Italian fans.  It wasn’t said with a friendly tone at all.  This was the same group that apparently made Paul’s life such a misery in August/September 1983.  As a “peace offering” they offered him a Wimpy box with fish and chips in it.  He said, ‘Is that my lunch?” as they handed it to him, then “A Wimpy!”  When he opened it up he said, “Oh, you can keep it, it’s alright.  I’m a vegetarian.”  One of the girls said, “Since when?” (Can you believe that?) And he replied, “Since many, many years.”  He was asking the Italian girls where they were from and when they said Italy, he said, “Big Italy.”  They asked for photos, and he obliged, so I asked for one and he said “sure.”  I thought, why stop at one, so while he was busying signing autographs, I kept snapping.

At one point he did a cute little pose for the Italians.  I kept thinking to myself, “Why is he being so nice to them when they’re such jerks?” but oh well.  He was about to get into the car and a fellow asked him for an autograph, so Paul asked John for a piece of paper and then he said to me, “Can I borrow your pen?” to which I must have looked stunned, because he repeated, “your pen?” but by the time I rooted through my purse, someone else had given him one.  I asked him when “Broad Street” would be out and he replied, looking right into my eyes, “October 26^th in American and like in November here.”

At one point he looked over and saw a German fan standing there with a glum expression on her face, and he said to her, “Don’t worry, it won’t happen!” to which she replied, “What?” And he said to her, “Whatever you’re worried about!”

He finally managed to get away from us all, and I ran to the one-hour photo lab with my film clutched in my hot little hand.

Once again, Paul McCartney proved to me that there can’t be a kinder or more gentle man on this earth—he really and truly cares about all of his fans.

At the Studio with Paul

If part of this story sounds familiar to you, it should.  I had posted some of this fan story from "The Write Thing" earlier this year.  This version was written for the McCartney Observer and it has more meetings with Paul included.    What stood out to me about this story was how the fans say that young James McCartney was so shy.   And fans today still comment on how shy James is.   Some people think you can outgrow shyness, but I do not think that is true of everyone.   

This story is from the Fall 1981 issue of the McCartney Observer and was written by Laurie Ross.

At the Studios with Paul

By Laurie Ross

 The big news from me is that I was in the U.K. in September and October (1981) and got to see Paul at Air Studios 18 times!  I still can’t believe my luck.  Pat Simmons had written my pal Terry that she had heard he was at Air so on September 21 was went to check it out, not really expecting him to show up.  But, half an hour later there he was.  It was all so easy.  When he got out of the car I was very calm and said “hi” to Paul and James  (Linda was there, too but in my excitement I didn’t even look at her).  I asked him when his new lp was coming out and he told me in the spring.  Later that day when he came back out I asked if I could take a photo and he said yes, but to make it fast as he was late, so I literally threw my purse and shopping bag on the pavement!  He was holding the koala bear Terry had given him and I didn’t even notice when I was taking the picture, but he was winking at me.  The next day I had him sign the photo (I took the film into a one our developing place) and Linda made a rude comment about my photo.

One another day, September 28^th to be exact, I had my first photo taken with Paul.  The situation of that picture happened so fast that I didn’t have time to get uptight.  Terry had her picture taken with him signing her “Rupert” book and being the pig I am I asked him if I could have my picture taken with him that night.  He couldn’t hear me so he leaned over and put his arm on my shoulder.   I repeated myself but he misunderstood me, thinking I wanted my picture taken then.  So, apparently he steered me to his side and luckily Gloria was thinking clearly and snuggled up to his other side.  I put my arm around his waist and it felt so good.  That day was my lucky day as far as getting touched.  When he came out that evening he was running but stopped just long enough to say, “Sorry girls, I’m in a terrible hurry.  I can’t stop now.”  And he reached out to give my right wrist a quick squeeze.  I must have been the closest person to him then or something.   Gloria and Terry left the next day very, very happy.  It was the first time they’d ever seen him so I was very happy for them.

On the day I had my photo taken with Paul the second time the minute he saw me with my camera, he said, “You want a picture, right?”  Just as it was being taken some jerk was about to walk into it, which didn’t upset me too badly, as you can imagine.  In fact both Paul and I figured he’d be in it (although luckily he wasn’t!) so we both have our mouths hanging open commenting about it.  On him it looks adorable.  On me it looks awful!  Not only do I look a mess but I look so bored, which I certainly wasn’t.  My face my look like it was just an everyday occurrence, but my heart was working overtime!

There were many other times we or I saw him but some days it was just “hello” and “good-bye,” although usually he always stopped to say something.  One Monday morning when he arrived her was in a terrific mood and he sang “Good morning, Good Morning” to us.  Not the Pepper version but apparently a tune from some Debbie Reynolds movie.   Also he grabbed Linda’s hand so scratch any divorce rumors you may have heard.  A couple of time he brought James and he is a little love.  A golden haired version of his dad.  He was very shy and whenever Paul stopped to talk to us he’d hide behind his father’s legs!  Paul once thought I was looking at James and pulled him out to say “hello” to us.  “Say hello to the girls, James.” To which James just looked at the ground solemnly and Paul said, “Sorry, too shy!”

We also saw George Martin who I imagine was working with Paul although we didn’t ask.  He arrived just a bit before Paul and left a bit earlier than him.  I had gotten a new photo book on the Beatles so I got him to sign the page on which he is spotlighted.  He remarked that it was a new book so must keep up to date on all the books that come out on the Beatles.  He is a real gentleman, what more can I say?  He is a great person.

My last day there I decided to tell Paul I was going back to Canada the next day and to thank him for being so kind.   Well, you’d think I was rehearsing for a Broadway play or something- repeating what I was going to say over and over again.  I wanted to shake his hand, so I was going to ask.   Well, we waited and waited for him to come out.  It was the latest he had been.  I was getting discouraged as I figured he’d be in a rush and all we’d get as he flew by was a “see ya girls.”  Was I in for a pleasant surprise!  I’ll never forget seeing him come around the corner.  I was so scared!   

He was walking quite briskly but I ran up to him and started blubbering about having to go back to Canada tomorrow and how I appreciated the autograph, the photos, and I started to thank him for his kindness in general when he started shaking my hand and said “You are?  Well I’d like to welcome you here.  I hope you enjoyed your stay on this corner.  We’re renting space here for next year so book early, OK?”  And then he was gone.  All I can remember is his nice warm hand and his eyes.   I think I said a few “I did” and “I wills” in there somewhere.  It was a lovely ay to end a trip.  Of course, I would have loved to stay longer but with a sendoff like that, I was content to go home and sort out all my thoughts.