Beginning of the 1973 Wings tour

For the next few weeks, I am going to be sharing some stories found in the Summer 1973 issue of "McCartney's Lovers and Friends" fanzine.    A group of American fans traveled to the U.K. and followed Wings around during the month of May during the 1973 tour.    So...let's start at the beginning!


On May 8th, we "accidentally" ended up on an avenue called Cavendish.  We just drove by and saw some guys hanging around the house.  No sooner did we pass when Paul came out of the gate in his green Rolls Royce (we saw this from a distance) -- he spoke to the boys for a few minutes, and then drove off.  We caught a glimpse of him buzzing by.  I went to find out what had happened from the fellas standing there and discovered that one of them was American and a member of this club!   What had happened was that Paul chatted with them for a bit, signed a photo for James, and beeped the horn as he left.  I understand that his brother Mike was with him.  Ann and I decided to get some wine for Paul to give him when he returned home that evening (to wish him good luck on the tour).  We got two large bottles of Mateus (same as we gave him for his birthday last year) and I had some candles for him as well.  During our wait, we made a new friend, Anne, who is a nurse at the hospital on the corner.  She's from Trenton, New Jersey of all places.  She told us that a few months ago Paul split his finger open and went to what they call the "casualty" ward for stitches.  They didn't know who was going to pass out first -- Paul, from all the blood, or the nurse from seeing Paul!  (haha!)

Around 8:30 the Rolls pulled around the corner Ann was the one who spotted it and at the same time announced she was having a nervous attack and couldn't get out of the car.  I told her she HAD to and got out of the car myself.  In the meantime, speedy Sher got out of their car, which was parked a bit behind us.   Paul was quite surprised, to say the least!  ("What's all this???!!)  He was super nice, really fantastic.  I explained that we had some things "to wish you good luck on your trip."  That day has got to be one of the best in my life.  One of the highlights was when Paul said to me, "Don't I remember you from long ago?"  That was a real shock -- recognition at last!  We were talking for a while, I can't go into too much detail.  I told him I loved his album and he was pleased -- he kept saying, "Do you really think so?"  Sher had a few gifts for Paul, Linda, and the kids.    Linda drove the car in after he opened the gates, but before she did we said hello and spoke a bit -- she was nice.  After what seemed like an eternity, we said goodnight to Paul, and I prewarned him that we were going to attend all of the concerts -- he seemed happy about it and Ann joked around and told him to look for us in the audience.  We were so happy after that meeting.  It was just too beautiful to put into words.  He is the nicest person in the world. 

The Beatles in Concert - Washington D.C.

This account of seeing The Beatles in concert was written by Joan Litherland and was first published in March 1973 issue of McCartney: Luvers and Friends.   Please note:  The Beatles started the concert with Rock n Roll Music and Ended with Long Tall Sally.   Sadly the girl that wrote this couldn't make out the song and put down the wrong one. 


August 15, 1966 (after midnight)

Dear Diary:

I saw The Beatles tonight.  I couldn't see their faces very well, but I knew Paul looked adorable as always.  He looked over at our section quiet a lot.  John waved at our section also.  All I could do was cry.  Sharon would jump up every so often, shaking, then she'd look over at me and sort of feel sorry for me.  I suppose.  It was very disappointing though.  The lightning and sound equipment was terrible.  they began with Long Tall Sally and ended with I'm Down.  That's how I feel right now, down. Because I could only watch them.  They were so close, yet so far away.  The next time they come I'll see them again and it will be different.   A boy jumped on stage and almost knocked John off, a policeman had to carry him away.  John kept jumping at the mike, Paul would kick and swing his legs out in front of him, George did dances and little Ringo drummed away.  Paul took the mike once, walked over to where Ringo was, and then announced his song.  You can imagine the screams.  Though I cried, my throat was tight and dry and I kept saying over and over, "Paul, oh Paul."  My dream came true that night -- I saw them.  I knew he's real.  I do know that he is mine.  (?)  In my own special way, he'll always be mine. But not in reality.  When we entered the stadium it was day, when we left I couldn't remember if it were day or night.  I still can't.  It all seems too much like a dream that you can't remember too well.  A dream that you could be contented to remain in because you would not want to wake.  Afterward, I was in my own world.  I kept going over all that happened, keeping very silent, very still.  Almost as if in a trance.  My father didn't like this.  He said I had just seen The Beatles -- I heard that, and I shot back, "That was all!!"  If he only knew.  To just see them -- to be so close and yet so far away.  To love them and Paul and not being able to tell them.

They were beautiful.  they were mine for a whole fleeting second.  Mine.  Hundreds of screaming, happy, loyal, wonderful Beatle fans, and they were mine that evening.   The Beatles and Paul -- were mine.  And I'm sure everyone must have felt the same.  My three-year-old sister saw them only a few yards away before the concert,  the luck of being a child.  She'll never know what that would have mean to all of us.  That you Dear Lord for letting The Beatles be who they are.  We love them so.

Let John and Yoko stay in the USA

In recently reading through fan magazines that I have obtained from the early and mid 1970's, I am reminded of the fact that Beatle fans worked very hard for John Lennon to stay in the U.S.A.   Each fanzine has addresses and petitions to send in for John.   It is easy after the fact to forget that it was John's fans that really did all that they could for John to get his green card.   I am not sure how much help it really gave John, but I'd like to think that it was maybe that little extra to help him win his case.   

Here is a story written by Barbara Clark for "McCartney Lovers and Friends" from January 1973 from when she and her friends hung around during one of John's immigration hearings in April 1972.

 

So I thought I would write about last April 18, 1972, when we went to see John at court.  We started off at 7am for the city, but heavy traffic, the car getting sick on the way (the car stalled out while turning a corner, and a taxi pushed us down the road, where we had to stop for over ½ hour) and the location of the 20 West Broadway (Immigration Office) being unfindable, slowed us down a bit and we didn’t arrive there until 9:30. 

Having missed John by a few minutes, we were killing each other, and then noticed that a crowd had already assembled (waiting for him to come out).  There were photographers, news reporters, groupies, teenyboppers and assorted people who didn’t know what the hell was going on, but stayed anyway just to see what was happening.  Three long hours passed, and finally John made his way out.  Seeing the reporters, he threw his arm around Yoko, and seemed to dread the upcoming serge.  They literally jumped on him.  He spent about 15 minutes answering questions about the court proceedings.  Answering some questions on the lighter side, he said that in kindergarten and all through school, nobody liked his face, and he seemed to always be in real bad trouble because of it.  He answered a girl’s question about his LP that was going to come out in a few weeks (He was really cheerful about that).  He finally pushed his way through the mob and smiled when he looked our way.  “Thomas” opened the car door and they were off.  Tommy, Marie, Sagi and I were at Apple on a hunch, when Geraldo Rivera from ABC news arrived along with some cameramen.  (They went inside to interview John, and it was on TV that night).  Marie suggested that he ask John to do a concert for the children of Willowbrook as George had done for Bangladesh.   He said that he would (Well it worked!)  He seemed to be rather snotty, he thinks he’s a real celebrity you know.  We waited and waited and waited.  Soon after, two true blue Beatle fans (guys) from New Jersey arrived.  They came to give John a letter.  It was about Yellow Matter Custard.  They kept asking Marie if she knew where John lived so that they could visit him and send him letters (“How should I know?” she said innocently).  Eventually, we saw Tom (his driver) come out from Apple, and John came out about five minutes later.  The two guys managed to speak to him and asked him about Yellow Matter Custard.  John told them to contact Dave Morrell (He’s about 17 ad calls himself the #1 Beatle fan because he has every LP and bootleg going and about $1000.00 worth of Beatle collections.)  Anyway, this Dave bloke was on the radio once bragging about his bootlegs, and John was interested in Yellow Matter Custard so he got to meet John and give him a copy (Oh yeah, he was also at Apple earlier in the dya).  Anyway he walked towards Marie’s car looked in and then saw Tom behind us and got into the blue station wagon.  They took off and when we decided to go our way we found that they were going in the same direction.  We almost went through a red light, got hit by a bus, and then found John in front of us.  His lane was going too slow and we didn’t know what to do.  A cab driver yelled out for us to pass him and Tommy yelled back, “but you don’t understand the situation!”  Marie, having one of her nervous attacks, kept saying “let’s take a vote on this.”   We had to pass, but I did look back and saw John resting his arm and hanging out the window smiling at all the people passing by. 

 

The first day the Pats met George

Here is a story from the first issue of "McCartney Lovers and Friends" fanzine (getting my money's worth out of this one!).  It is a story we all know and love about when George Harrison fan club president, Pat Kinzer met George in 1969.  However there is a twist this time.   Instead of hearing Pat's side of the story (which you can read in her wonderful book), this is her friend, Pat Simmon's memory of the day.    And....it isn't the story of the day where they met George at his door and took all of the photos and had him sign all sorts of things.   Instead it is about when they first met him.   Nice little story.....

The year was 1968, Jul and August to be exact.  About six months prior to this, Pat Kinzer had mumbled on about “wouldn’t it be great to go to England” and I’d mumbled back a dreamy “yeah, sure would.”  So we decided to make the dream become reality, threw our money in the bank, rounded up a few other friends and pen pals, namely Joy Kilbane of Cleveland, Nancy Scharfe of Chicago, and Sandy Meckes of Pennsylvania/Dutch land.   I’m sure those of you who’ve been to England can remember back to when you went for the very first time, and how you got off the plane, looked around, and through that this couldn’t be happening to YOU, because it only happens to those who wrote for “Datebook” or other such gear-fab magazines.  Even when you’re in the bus on the way to the Pan Am terminal somewhere in the sticks outside of London, you keep looking out the window at the cars on the freeway caught in early-morning rush hour, and you keep thinking, “aren’t dreams weird, this HAS to be Cleveland, but everybody keeps driving on the wrong side of the road!”  I remember when we finally got to our hotel, which was around Paddington, a none-too-swift area of London; we had to sit in the lobby for about ten years before our room was ready, and our luggage the five of us took up practically the entire lobby. 

Finally, suffering through the time change, we stumbled our way to the underground and tried to get familiar with how to figure out the different lines, and we succeeded in winding up back at Paddington three times in a row.  Well, what can you except from you first day in London with no sleep and the hour being about 7:30 am?  After getting chased all over the place by the St. John’s Wood police, who seem to get some kind of evil glee out of threatening poor gullible Americans that they’d throw them in jail if they didn’t evacuate the vicinity of Cavendish Avenue, believing them and running off to Piccadilly where you also believed a guy in a record store who said an album cost around five pounds, forgetting that five pounds is not the same as five dollars, going down Carnaby Street in total fascination, visiting the Beatles Monthly offices, and doing hours of souvenir hunting, we returned to our hotel rooms, our feet burning so much we had to crawl around on hands and knees.  But to skep all the rest of the intelligent little happenings that went on the first few days of your fist big vacation without mommy and daddy, we’ll go on to That Day I Never Thought Would Happen, when we first talked to George.

By this time, in early August, we were staying in a hotel in Esher.  Pat, Sandy and I decided to roam around Esher for reasons obvious while Joy and Nancy checked out Weybridge, also for reasons obvious.  We found George’s private drive by asking a girl on a bicycle if she knew where you-know lived, and she very tolerantly led us to the gates beyond which there was a golf course, and somewhere beyond that the long driveway that led up to George’s gates.  I think I was in a state of shock that whole walk up the private road, which was so narrow, it was more like a bicycle path, and all gravel.  You keep thinking, he lives around here somewhere, but no, you’ll never see him, never talk to him, because that just happens to other people, not you.

The walk seemed to take forever.  Just when we thought we’d never find the place, we came across the end of the driveway, looked down in it, and sure enough, there was the famous high wall that surrounded his grounds.  And you thought, naw, this isn’t for real, you’re still dreaming.  Then we were standing in front of his house, the three of us trying to get up the guts to ring the doorbell.  I think it was Sandy who finally did, after considerable shaking.  The feeling I got when that door began to slowly open, but no, it was Margaret, who from gear-fab mags, we all knew, was George’s housekeeper.  Pat, who as most everyone knows, I think, had George’s club for many, many years, and also regularly wrote to 95% of George’s relatives.  George knew of her club because his mother always mentioned it and always got him to sign stuff for contest prizes and so forth.  Anyway, she had sent a registered letter of warning to him a few days before we left for England, saying she was coming over with four people on such and such a date, and would it be all right if we came by for talk on such and such a date, giving the poor man enough notice to evacuate the country.  Margaret said she remembered signing for the letter and that George was aware that we were coming but as it was, he wasn’t home – he was in London.  She said if we came back a little while later that day, he’d probably be back and we could talk to him then.  We talked to her for quite a while, she was so nice, and then in a trance, walked back to beautiful uptown Esher.  Was it really going to happen after all?  Were we really going to get to see him?  After all these years of wishing, hoping, dreaming, planning, was it really going to happen?

Somehow the time managed to go by that day.  How, I couldn’t tell you.  Later on in the afternoon, Pat, Sandy and I stumbled back up Claremont road again.  There was a huge cloud of dust way down the road, and I was beginning to think that perhaps we were in Esher after all, or even in Cleveland, maybe it was Africa!  But it wasn’t a mirage, and as the cause for all the flying gravel came closer, we saw it was a dark green Mini.  Sandy said, “That’s George in that car!”  Pat looked skeptical.  I said, “Naw, couldn’t be!”  The car came closer, and the gravel flew faster.  Pat went white, and said, “It IS George!”  I said, “Naw, couldn’t be.”  The car flew past us, screeched on the brakes, backed up, and the door flew open, and oh God, it WAS George.  The feeling…how can you describe it?  Long before you actually meet him, you keep reading in magazines and things how silly some girls acted, and you KNEW that if it ever happened to you, that YOU would never act that way.  So, our initial, simultaneous reaction, “Duh…it’s him!”  He looked so crammed in that little Mini that he couldn’t sit up straight.  When we later told Joy and Nancy what had happened that day, we tried to tell them what he was wearing and could only remember bright orange trousers and none of us could remember what color of shirt he had on.  He looked at each one of us and said, “One of you….”  Then he pointed to Pat, at which point she completely lost whatever color she had left, which by this time wasn’t much.  He said, “You’re Pat, aren’t you?”  Apparently Margaret had told him we’d been by before and told him what Pat looked like.  He shook her hand, and meanwhile Sandy brilliantly exclaimed, ‘You remember me George, I’m the one who dropped my rheumatism pills all over Paul’s driveway the other day!”  (Note:  Sandy unfortunately had rheumatoid arthritis and had to take pills for it, and when she, Nancy and Joy were waiting by Paul’s a few days before this, George had come out of his house and gotten into a taxi, which was right when Sandy’s pills fell out of her purse and scattered all over the driveway, while George looked on sympathetically and maybe a bit bewildered.)  George looked at Sandy as though to say, “Yeah ok kid, whatever you say…”  He said he’d talk to us, but he was “in bit of a roosh” right now, as he was on his way back to London, but then asked us if we planned to stay in Esher for a few days.  We told him we did, and he said we could come back the next day around 1:00 if we’d like.  While we nodded like robots being fed computerized instructions on what to do next, he zoomed (literally) off again.

If we thought passing just a few hours was hard before, passing a whole 24 hour day had to be next to impossible.  We even resorted to trying a séance, Pennsylvania/Dutch style with Sandy saying, “Make out the lights!” and “whoever is within our presence, make the shoe glow!”  and similar things.  Funniest séance I’d ever been in, but we had to do something to pass the time….

August 1972

This is another article (I have several to type up) from the issue #1 (January 1973) of the fanzine by Marie Lacey called "McCartney Lovers and Friends."   It is about some fans who meet up with Paul during his Wings European tour in 1972 and then right after the tour at his home.   What I find the most interesting is this one sentence about how one of the girls was a "baddie" and was known as the girl who threw chocolate mousse in Paul's face.   What?   What happened there?  Why did she do that?   This story was written by Kris Martell who lived in New York City but was staying in London at the time.

 

McCartney’s Lovers and Friends

January 1973

Written by Kris Martell (NYC)

After a lot of disappoints and much confusion, Pat Miller and I were off to see Wings in Holland.  We were not sure if we had tickets or not.  We had called Holland a few times and got different answers every time.  We wanted to go to all of the concerts in Holland, that being Breda, Groningen, Rotterdam and Amsterdam.  After several calls to the Dutch Tourist Office, it seemed that Paul kept changing his mind and cancelled out on a few (Breda included).  With the little money we had, it seemed that Amsterdam would be all we would make.  So, on august 19, Pat and I were lucky and got a KLM flight (stand-by) to Amsterdam.  We were really happy that we got that flight because if we didn’t, a boat that left that midnight was the last resort and that didn’t please us too much!  Everything was so sudden that I left with just a knap-sack on my back and we were off.  We were in the Netherlands by 9:30p.m. and headed for the Dutch Information Center.  They found Pat and I the cheapest dormitory on Kriserstraat, right on the docks (it was beautiful there) for only $2.00 per night, breakfast included.  The next day, we must have walked all over the city, every place from Ann Frank’s house to Rembrandt’s.  But, our first stop was the Concert Gerbou.  Stopping to ask some of the natives for directions, we came upon a group of young people who told us the concert was the night before.  Pat and I just couldn’t get over it, we believe it so much.  He had changed dates so many times right and left, why not Amsterdam as well?  It wasn’t until we had our tickets in our hands that we were happy.  You might say we floated across the city for 7 ½ hours.  We looked all over for his hotel, including Dam Square because we thought that would be the most likely place, but no such luck.  So we walked around the canals, took a boat trip and just enjoyed the beautiful city.  The concert was at 7pm on August 20^th so we got to the Concert Gerbou at 5:30 pm.  Around 6, we saw a little white bus coming towards us to Paul, Linda and the rest of the group, plus Mary, Heather and Stella.  Pat and I were the only visible fans around.  A few technicians were scattered nearby as they were using the Stones Mobile.  Paul came out in his white jacket holding Stella.  Mary was holding onto Denny Laine, and Heather to Linda.  He came right towards us, gave a big smile and said “hello girls” to which Linda turned around and smiled.  By this time, we were both getting a bit spastic!  Pat was totally shocked because her relationship with Paul wasn’t exactly the best (She was one of the “baddies” known for throwing a chocolate mousse in Paul’s face).   Was just so happy because he made it just so personal talking to us.  Well after the concert they all came out to listen to the playbacks in the mobile.  By this time a crowd had assembled but nothing like what I had experienced in Frankfurt.  He came out of the hall, giving the “thumbs up” sign, smiling and wearing sunglasses.  The whole family went into the mobile after him.  We could hear the playbacks from outside.  One of my friends managed to get inside and another of my friends followed.  They were two English girls that had been standing outside his home for all the years that he has lived there.  One of them went over to Paul, who was sitting in a chair listening to the playbacks.  She went over to him to say that she was not going to hang around the house anymore.  Paul seemed very pleased, took her hand and said that it was for the best.  Linda shed a few tears as they left.  It was really a very touching thing, the best way to end off the evening.  Paul must have been very happy, knowing that they had come this far to see him, and then to get in his van and say something like that.  Linda kept saying that she didn’t mind them coming in after a concert like this and talking and they seemed pleased that they had enjoyed themselves at the concert.  In 45 minutes the group came out and went into the white van.  Everybody cheered and Paul gave the “thumbs up” sign again.  The notable bus was absent.  Pat and I got to the airport and slept there for the night.  That was some experience.  I’d never done it before!  But it was great fun and by this time we were on Cloud 9.  I didn’t realize so many people sleep out at airports but half of the departure lounge was full of people.  I’ve got many memories from that night including banging a vending machine at 3am (we were hungry and had no money) then cleaning my feet in the bathroom and then trying to sleep while some janitor vacuumed the airport floor.  But the best memory was the Concert Gerbou!  We got to London the next day, literally exhausted. I slept all day and felt a bit sick.  At 9pm Alf from the Apple Offices came over to our flat and stayed for two hours.  He had his white Rolls parked right in front of the apartment – wonder what the neighbors thought!?!  By the 23^rd I was still sick and sleeping.  Pattie went to the “Godfather” premiere with Neilson.  By the 25^th (Friday) I was well recovered.  We thought that Paul might be coming home.  The concert in Berlin was the night before.  I really had my doubts though; we all thought he’d be going to Scotland for a rest.  Besides myself and my two friends from L.A., there was Harllet Vdo from Germany, Karen from Kansas, Angela, Mirella from Italy and two girls from Georgia that I had met two years ago.  We spent a few hours at #9, when Rosie came out and said that he’d be home “shortly.”  Food arrived, Martha was home, everything looked great!  I still had my doubts from previous experiences.  He was scheduled to come home between 6-7 pm.  We waited all day and never left, just to make sure.  We heard the phone ring and a few times we were so sure that it was Paul calling saying he’d be home in a week or so and not then.  Well at 8pm, the red Lamgerghini came around the corner.  (I still wonder how it got to the airport to meet him).  He got out to open the gate and had on a beautiful yellow and green shirt with his suspenders and tight black pants.  He said, “You know we really don’t like people hanging around the house.”  My friend said, “Well, we just wanted to welcome you home, Paul.”  Paul said, “Yeah, but we don’t like people hanging around the house.”  My friend said “We saw you in concert and it was really good.”  At the time, Paul was down on the ground unlocking the gate and he only half-heard what she said. HE looked up and said, “What?”  My friend said, “We saw the show in Paris and it was great.”  Paul said, “Oh thank you.”  As he was closing the gate, she gave him a letter from one of the English girls and he said, “Oh Ok.”  And “Goodbye.”  While this was going on, my other friend was talking to Linda who was in the car.  We had gotten flowers for her.  My friend gave them to her and said, “These are for you.”  Linda looked a bit surprised and said, “oh.”  Then my friend said “These are for Paris, Frankfurt, Amsterdam and Montreux.”  (I had gone to Frankfurt and Amsterdam, she to Paris and Karen to Montreux).  Linda took them and winked!  So did Heather, who had Stella on her lap.  When they went in, we all left, except for the two girls from Georgia.  They waited for Rosie, and walked her to the station.  Rosie said Linda came in and said, “They’re still out there.”  But Paul wasn’t affected by it at all.  Rosie said that they had been having some arguments and things were being thrown around.  She asked us if Linda was really as rich as the papers made her out to be.  She just couldn’t get over the fact that she was from such a well-to-do family.  Rosie also mentioned that the only thing Linda cooked for dinner was soup, some vegetables and sandwiches (all the time). 

Autumn 1968

This is a very nice story that was publish in the fanzine "McCartney's Lover and Friends" which was created by our very own beautiful Marie Lacey in January 1973.  It is found in issue #1.   This is one of the best McCartney fan stories I have read in awhile.   These girls must have had a tape recorder to recall what was said in such detail or they went back to their hotel and wrote down word for word everything that was said.  It was written by Linda Rabe and JoAnn DeFilippe who were from New York.   I found one of the photos that was copied in the fanzine in my files but the other one I had to scan of photo copy and it didn't turn out that great.   If anyone has the photo of Paul with the three girls, it would be so awesome to see.   Hope you enjoy this as much as I did.

Carol, Linda, Paul and JoAnn

In the Autumn of 1968

Linda Rabe & JoAnn Defilippe

On our first day in London, we took the underground tube to St. John’s Wood, and by some miracle we walked in the right direction and found ourselves in front of the street sign which read, “Cavendish Avenue.”  Looking down the block, we saw a mob of girls standing outside THE HOUSE!  We walked up and they told us that they were waiting for Paul to come out and sign autographs.  As we were standing out there, we heard a noise inside the gate and crossed the street so that we could see over the wall.  There, in the doorway, stood Paul.  He looked over and waved and made signs with his hands which seemed to mean, “Wait, one minute, ok?”  Two girls came out of the yard and went around to the stores with Martha and Eddie.  We stayed around until the cops came and then decided to go back to the hotel and eat. 

  We went back the next night and two girls from Scotland told us that he was not home.  We all decided to go for a drink, and then decided to go back to Paul’s house, even though it was after midnight.  When we arrived there, the gates were wide open, and there was a white car in the yard.  One of the Scottish girls told us that it belonged to Paul’s friend, Ivan Vaughn.  She went into the garage and came out with a pair of Paul’s overalls that had a name of a petrol station on it.  We tried to get the buttons off, but it was quite difficult as they were rubber.  Feeling guilty, we decided to put them back.  We all creeped further into the yard, and JoAnn went up the steps to try and peek into the front window.  Then, Camena made a noise in the garage as she was trying to put the overalls back, and we all flew out of the yard in  a bit of a hurry. 

 Two minutes later, a car came speeding up the block, and a green mini appeared in front of us.  Paul was in the car with Miss Eastman (at the time, we didn’t know who she was).  Since we weren’t able to think straight, all we could say was “Hi Paul,” he looked at us and said, “Hi luv”.  A light went on in the car, and he said something to her.  EH got out of the car and started walking over towards us.  She turned and said in a long drawn out nasal voice, “come on, Martha!”  Even Paul looked at her with a confused look on his face.  Trying to remain calm, we told him that we were from New York  and asked if we could talk to him for a minute.  He said sure.  

JoAnn:  Can I take a picture with you?

Paul:  Sure, come over here.

Carol:  Can we take a picture with you?

Paul:  Yeah

We gave the camera to Camena so she could take the picture of us with him. (see photo)  Carol went over and took his arm and Joann walked over to him and slipped her hand through his left arm.  Joann’s hands being cold, found a nice warm spot.  Paul said, “no luv, like this.”  He took JoAnn’s hand and put it over his arm.  He said “Ohhhh” and started to rub her hand to make it warm.  Being that Paul only had two arms Linda (fellow fan from the U.S. not Linda Eastman) didn’t know where to stand.

Linda:  Where do I stand?

Carol:  Sit on the Ground.

Paul:  No, stand here.  (Point in front of himself) As Linda stood in front of him he put his hands on her shoulders.  Swaying back and forth he looked up to the sky and said, “ohh there’s a moon out tonight” and sang “I only have yes for you.”  As we all looked up at him we gave him looks as if to say “forget it, you can’t sing.”  We were forgetting who he was and that hey Jude was then at #1. 

 Camena went to take the picture and the flash wouldn’t go off, and trying a second time, still no luck.  JoAnn said “Oh the flash won’t go off!”  Paul said, “Don’t worry, it will.”  As Linda was standing in front of him, she could feel his body pressing forward and his knees bending into hers.  The third time the flash finally went off.

Paul:  The family portrait taken right after the football game.  We really beat them at that one, didn’t we?  What part of New York are you from – Brooklyn?

We told him what part, and he said that he had never heard of it.  Little does he know that the location just happened to be the same places were Kennedy Airport is and Shea Stadium.

JoAnn:  We went to a club tonight, and couldn’t get in, you had to be a member.

Paul:  What club was that?

JoAnn:  The Speakeasy Club.

Paul:  Couldn’t be.

JoAnn:  It was.

Paul:  But it couldn’t be.

JoAnn:  don’t tell me, I was there, and I saw the sign and it said “Speakeasy.”

Paul:  But you don’t understand, it burnt to the ground.  There’s nothing left.  You have to be an angel to get in.

JoAnn:  Girls, tell him what the name of the club was.

Linda: Blaiser’s Speakeasy

Paul:  Oh yeah, I know the one.  It’s different.  There are a few clubs that you have to be a member to in.  There’s a good one call The Bag.”

Us:  The Bag?

Paul:  Yeah, the Bag O’Nails – you don’t’ have to be a member to get in and it’s cheap.

Linda:  Is it nice?

Paul:  Yeah, but it’s ‘ruff (makes a fist and squints his nose)

Linda:  Thanks a lot!

Paul:  Yeah, but it’s a good club.

JoAnn:  Where is it?

Paul:  Near Regent Street

Joann: Oh, Regent Street.  Where’s that?

Paul:  Near Carnaby Street.

Us:  Oh…Carnaby Street.

Paul:  (making a funny gesture) Oh Carnaby Street!  We’ll just have to go there, and after that we’ll just have to go to the Palace!

Linda:  Did you know that we had a Magical Mystery Tour of our own? (A bus load of girls had gone on a ride around NY, and then up to Bear Mountain, NY)

Paul (looking pathetic) No.  Nobody told me.  Did you know where you were going?

Linda:  Yeah, we had to hire a bus to Bear Mountin.

JoAnn:  you know Mr. Weiss?

Paul:  Yeah (smiling)

JoAnn:  We’re the girls who gave Mr. Weiss the pictures of John’s car, and of a convention we had.  Did you see them when you were there?

Paul:  Yeah, you’re the girls, those were your pictures?

All of a sudden a little brown and black Yorkshire terrier appeared.

JoAnn:  Hi Eddie!

Linda:  Edgar!

Paul:  Eddie

JoAnn:  Can I pick him up?

Paul:  Sure

JoAnn:  Does he…

Paul:  No, he doesn’t bite.  He just might try and get down.

JoAnn was talking and playing with Eddie and he didn’t get down.  Paul came over and took Eddie’s head in his hands (JoAnn’s hair was in Paul’s fingers) and ruffled his fur and kissed him on the mouth.  Martha was walking around and we asked him if Martha and Eddie fought, and he said that they didn’t.

JoAnn:  Can I have your autograph?

Paul: Sure

JoAnn:  My name is JoAnn. As she gave him a pen and he was signing it.  He shook his head yes, and she said could you please write that down.  He said “Oh JoAnn, Joann, I thought you were telling me what your name was. Hi JoAnn, I’m Paul. But that’s silly, you know I’m Paul.   Then Linda said her name to put on the autograph, and Paul just gave her a strange look, and we didn’t know why.  Later, we found out why.

Linda:  Can I take a picture of you and Eddie?

Paul:  Yeah, wait a minute.

He had to pick Eddie up and then he stood there so tall and proud.  And the flash wouldn’t’ go off again.  So Paul decided he was going to fix that problem and just pulled the flash cube off and tried top push another one on, but it still didn’t work.  So, we tried switching the flash cubes again, and Paul posed again, and we finally got the picture (see photo)  He then put Eddie down and he bent down and made noises of a dog barking and Eddie looked at Paul moving his head from side and side and we all went “ahhh.”

Linda:  We have a present for you, but we didn’t bring it with us because we didn’t know we were going to see you.

Paul:  Come back tomorrow.  It’s better to come at night, because during the day I don’t answer the bell.  I change moods rapidly.  He started to shut one gate and Linda went over to him and whispered in his ear, while his hair tickled her nose, “can I kiss you goodnight?”

Paul:  No, not here.

As Linda was backing up, he still held her hand as we said goodnight to him again and told him to say hello to the other boys for us.  Back at the hotel, we had talked about what happened, but Linda couldn’t put into words how it felt when Paul pressed against her. 

 Even though Paul had told us to come back at night, we decided to go around to his house that afternoon to see what was going on.  It’s so hard to stay away.  As usual, there were a lot of girls there and they were asking us questions about what time Paul had come home the night before (don’t know how they found out). 

 While we were there, Miss Eastman had come out to go around to the store.  With her nose high in the air, she just passed everyone right by without a glance.  A half hour later the groceries arrived and they rang the bell which Paul answered and they told him his groceries were here and he said OK and sent Rosie out to collect them.  After a while, a meat truck came and Rosie came out to open the gates for the truck to pull in the yard and send in the meat.  When the groceries had arrived we looked in the box and then stuck in a few notes that our friends from New York had given us to give him.  We were peeking through the crack in the gate and were taking turns standing on the milk crate looking over the wall.  We saw Paul come bopping down the stairs in the house and he had on a yellow shirt and dark trousers. 

  Later in the afternoon, Ivan came and rang the bell which Paul wouldn’t’ answer.  Therefore, Ivan decided to climb the gate, he took a few steps backwards and jumped over the gate (a trick John use to pull).  About an hour later, Paul came rushing out of the house and we ran into the yard next door (#9) to try and see what he was doing. 

We saw him get into his Mini and we went back to his gate.  Ivan opened the gates and Paul pulled out making noises like a racing car.  Martha was in the back seat and Paul had Eddie on his lap.  We knew that he was taking them up to Regents Park as he had done very day then.  Everyone started to snap pictures.  JoAnn took a picture of him and the flash was very bright and hurt his eyes and Paul went “ooh!”  JoAnn felt guilty and wanted to apologize.  When we went back that night, JoAnn asked Linda to remind her. 

  Linda had looked and Paul and pointed to the camera and he nodded that it was ok to take a picture.  Paul waited for Miss Eastman and Ivan to get into the car and then he pulled off.  We decided not to wait around until he came back and went home.  We came back at 11 pm to give Paul his present.  When we arrived there, the gates were closed and we walked over to EMI.  On our way back to Paul’s we saw tow English girls (Anne and Suzanne) standing there.  The gates were open and Paul was standing there with Eddie in his arms and talking to Ivan, who was seated in the car with Miss Eastman next to him.  As Ivan pulled out, we started to walk over to Paul and Ivan said “Goodnight” and we made sure that we said Goodnight to him and we waved.  They pulled off down the block and we stood there with Mr. McCartney himself and again he was making his dog noises.  

Paul:  Did you meet Eddie?  Oh yeah, you met Eddie last night.  Then he said to Carol, “You didn’t meet Eddie.”

Carol:  I did too.

Paul:  Oh, you were here last night?  You look different.

JoAnn to Carol:  Oh, you had your hair back last night and tonight you have it down.

Paul:  Oh, you let your hair down so you could swing (swaying his hips from side to side.)  We were standing in front of him and we were watching him as he put his yellow shirt into his trousers with a silly grin on his face. We looked down to see his orange socks.  He was standing directly in front of a puddle and  he curled his toes up and went “ekkk!”  All of a sudden there was a noise from the top of the wall and Paul said, “shhh! Do you hear that noise?”  He moved closer towards us.

Paul:  Is that one of the fans up there?  Oh no.  It’s that tom cat again.  He scared us last night.  Oh (he looks at the 2 English girls) – have you met these three girls?  These three girls are from New York and they’re alright.

Paul to us:  These two girls are from Hamstead and they’re alright too.

Suzanne to us:  You know you’re alright, he said you’re alright, so that means you’re alright.

Paul stood there smiling with his head down.

Linda:  Can we take a picture?

Paul:  Yes sure. 

He was still talking, but we didn’t know what he was talking about, and we were trying to get the cameras out.

Paul:  come on girls, you’re slow (hitting JoAnn on the hand) Every night when we were small my brother and I used to get a bisquit before we went to bed, and we used to nibble on it very very slowly (with his hand up to his mouth to imitate) to stall for time.  By the way, where did you girls go today?

JoAnn:  We were here all day.

Paul:  You were here all day?!

Linda:  Yeah, we had nothing better to do (jokingly)

As we were getting ready to take the picture Paul said, “Never mind, I’m not in the mood now.  You have to be in a mood to take pictures.”  Meanwhile Eddie kept running around.

Linda:  Does Eddie run in the street?

Paul:  Yes, he does, sometimes. 

And with that Eddie ran into the street.  All Paul had to do was whistle and Eddie came running back.  It didn’t take him long to get back into the street though.  Paul was still talking and talking and suddenly a car came speeding down the black and Paul turned around and called “Eddie.”  Eddie panicked and didn’t know which way to turn.  Thank God the car stopped in time.  Paul turned around and had his hand over his heart.  “I shouldn’t have called him like that because I scared him and he probably would have made it across the street ok.  It’s the same as if a person was crossing the street and a car was coming the person would have noticed the car, but if someone had yelled out the person would have panicked.”

JoAnn:  You’re smart.

The guy that almost hit Eddie was still sitting there in his car, smiling and watching.  Again forgetting who we were with, we said, “Who’s that guy staring at?”  Paul put his head down.

Linda to JoAnn:  You wanted to apologize.

JoAnn:  Oh yeah, I have to apologize.

Paul:  Apologize?  What for?

As JoAnn looked up into his eyes she noticed oen of his veins in the left eye and it left a strange effect on her and she couldn’t say what.

Paul:  So, where’s my present?

Linda:  First we have a couple notes from our friends.

We gave them to him and he said in a pathetic voice, “Is this my present?”

Linda:  No stupid (she said this innocently). 

Paul opened the notes and started to read, but he couldn’t as it was too dark and he said he’d finish reading them inside, and put them in his pocket.  Linda then took out the bottle of wine, slowly, to give him.  He popped her in the chest and said, “Hurry up!”  His eyes just lite up when he saw that bottle.  He held it in his hand and put his arm up in the air and said, “Let’s celebrate!”  He said, “Who wants the first swig?”  We told him he should have some first because it was his bottle.  He started to tear the stuff off the top and dropped it on the ground.  He said to Linda, “Want some?” and she said, “No thank you, I don’t like wine.”  He then took a great big gulp and made a face and shook his head in pleasure and said, “Good stuff, this American wine.” He then went to pass the bottle and Linda suddenly decided she liked wine and took the bottle from him.  She was putting it up to her mouth and he pushed it, hitting her front teeth with the bottle as she drank it.  Linda then gave the bottle to JoAnn and when she was drinking it Paul kept staring at her and the bottle made a funny noise when she took it away from her mouth and the wine swished out of the bottle.  The other girls had a swig and gave the bottle back to Paul.

Paul:  Oh, when I used to work in the mill they used to wake me for my meals, but that was a long time ago, when I was 55.

Suzanne:  Now you’re 80.

Paul:  And these tin-pan groups today, they don’t make music, just noise.

Suzanne:  Like the Beatles.

Paul:  oh them…

Paul started to go towards the gates and close them and he said “Hey well, I’ll see you anyway.  Goodnight.”

We said goodnight and went to get a taxi home.