What a look

 

Paul looks out of place

Live in Pittsburgh

Standing behind their heroes

Paul McCartney at a press conference

The press in Pittsburgh

The only Beatles concert in Pittsburgh

I was there, it was surreal. Like a dream, really. We all piled into my friend's Dad's station wagon, 6 of us girls. I honestly cannot remember hearing any of the music, just the continual screaming, me included.. We all looked like zombies coming out of the Arena.. What a NIGHT! – Patricia K. 

I was at this Beatles concert with my family. My dad was out of town & my grandfather took us. I don't think he enjoyed it. We sat on the main floor. I took some photos which I still enjoy. I rushed closer to the stage for pics and got halfway there. The girls constant loud screaming did drown out most of the music. A very cool time for this then 14 year old boy. – Steve H.

I was at that concert - I was 14. It lasted about 20 min.........because the Beatles only had 4-5 songs to sing. You couldn't hear anything. Young girls were crying - a bunch of them fainted and had to be removed by the cops. But hey.........it was the Beatles. –anonymous

Report from the Little Old Lady Not dressed in Blue

Barber shop Quartet Candidates, Swingin’ fan’s report on Beatles:  Still they seem like nice guys

By Connie Kienzle

The Pittsburgh Press

The shrieking of the audience almost made the Little Old Lady wish she could hear the screaming from the stage instead.  

But not quite.

They seem like nice boys, she thought.  And they certainly hare having a good time.   But their mother should send them to a good barber. 

The Beatles were mouthing the words to a song that the Little Old Lady turned off the last time she heard it on the radio.  At certain intervals the screaming 13,000 little girls would swell so that she had to disconnect her hearing aid.

She looked around.  There were little girls jumping up and down, clapping, swaying, crying, screaming and waving.  They stood on seats.  They implored.  One girl, standing up to scream, jammed the woman’s hat down over her eyes. 

Land sakes, the Little Old Woman thought.  I believe that child is going to have a fit.  Look at those tears.  In a moment she’ll be in shock. 

From her spot at the foot of the stage she could see Ringo Starr perspiring as he shook his long hair in an ecstasy of song.  The din increased, but she still couldn’t hear what the Beatles were “singing.”

Feet began stomping all over the Civic Arena.  Too bad I wore my tennis shoes, thought the Little Old Lady, who was beginning to hear the beat.

In other parts of the Arena, there were grandpas, grandmas, whole families, neighborhood groups, scholarly gentlemen and older couples who were also digging the whole Beatle bit.  Some of them had their fingers in their ears.

Right in front of the Little Old Lady was a policeman wearing earmuffs.  He was one of a group who hugged the front of the stage, looking grim and shaking heads but not in time to the “music.”

She heard one of them saying how orderly the crowd had been.

Why did they pay all that money to come down here and yell like that, wondered the Little Old Lady.  They only sounds discernible over the bleating of the crowd were Ringo’s drumbeats and an occasional twang of John’s guitar.

She had taken the tin lizzie to the Greater Pittsburgh Airport earlier in the day to watch the Beatles arrive. There were about 5000 children and some parents, all crunching against the airport’s snow fences which had been specially erected behind the metal railing and it seemed as if the screaming had hardly diminished since the Beatles flew in.

There was a hodge-podge of County deputy sheriffs, all looking bored, and an assortment of other uniformed men standing in the immediate area where the plane landed.  Some had cotton in their ears.

Four shaggy youths disembarked and were whisked away before the Little Old Lady could get a good look.  That hair looks longer than any of the pictures I’ve seen, she thought.   

Later at the press conference where the Little Old Lady sneaked noiselessly by a regular garrison of armed policemen and detectives, she heard Ringo saying he was afraid to trust an American barber and the hair would have to wait until the end of the United States tour.  “But it could stand abit of it off now,” he said.

She hobbled up the immobile escalators with the first mass of screamers and made her way to what seemed like a good spot by the stage.  Police were everywhere.

These children are really having a good time, though the Little Old Lady as she looked around the Arena, but they’ll all going to need some goose grease and a flannel wrapper on their throats tomorrow.

I’d like to hear the Beatles sometime, she said to herself as she watched George and Paul smiling at each other and then at the audience.  John gave a funny little hop and the screaming shrilled higher.

I’d rather listen to music but I really don’t mind them, she thought, feeling a little silly.  She began to unbutton her elbow-length gloves so she could clap a little harder.   Her tennis shoes began to tap, gently.  Why didn’t I wear those regular high-button shoes with the cleats, she moaned inwardly.

“Yes yes yes” screeched the Little Old Lady, as she threw her second best black velvet tam into the air.  She thought “yeah yeah yeah “would be going a bit overboard.

But the amazing phenomenon wasn’t over.  After the Beatles left the stage, the little girls converged on it with ear-splitting yelps. 

Besieged policemen defend the stage which the Beatles had stood upon from bodies hurling forward just to touch the boards.  Tears flowed.

Feeling creaky and brittle, the Little Old Lady decided not to add her bones to that pile of Beatle-bugs.

Besides, she thought, I have something better, and she patted her old black handbag which contained two of Ringo’s cigarette butts, pilfered after the press conference.

Rush to the Beatles

I am sure this happened in other cities during the 1964 tour, but Pittsburgh seems to be the other city where there is a lot of documentation of it.    Fans were milling around outside of the Civic Center, where the Beatles were going to play for hour before the show. 

Here are two adorable fans with their buttons on, getting a photo snapped to remember the concert.

Cute photos of fans waving Beatle photos and banner and showing off their tickets for cameras.

Then word started to get out that the Beatles were headed to the Civic Center and the car was coming that way!   Now this past summer, I did the "limo watch" for Paul McCartney and it was pretty exciting....I can just imagine that excitement was so much more for all four Beatles.

police hold back the fans so that they don't attack the Beatles car

This fan got close to the Beatles but was quickly stopped.

And then all heck broke loose and there was no stopping the Beatlemaniacs!

Pittsburgh press

Photo by Donnie Johnston

Donnie Johnston entered Conference Room A in the bowels of the arena and was struck by the room’s bland, coldly functional decor -- bare, off-white walls and steel doors. Four chairs had been placed before two drab, gray folding tables that would have been more at home loaded down with casseroles at the local Presbyterian church. Donnie assumed the venue would be a bit more regal.
Reporters and technicians were busy hooking up microphones and stringing cables across the tables.

Donnie got busy with his own bulky equipment. Once everything was ready, Donnie placed his finger on the record button and waited. He had one chance at this and he didn’t want to blow it.

Suddenly, a door opened and Ringo, John, George and Paul were ushered into the room.

No screams or gasps of excitement greeted the Beatles. Most reporters assigned to cover the event were men old enough to have daughters in the throng gathered outside. One was Kaspar Monahan, a bespectacled man in his 60s with a wave of gray hair atop his head and a deep vertical wrinkle in the skin between his eyes. He seemed to be either deeply curious or enduring a twinge of pain.

As drama critic for The Pittsburgh Press, Monahan spent the 1940s and ’50s reviewing films and visiting elaborate movie sets, where he interviewed legendary stars like Humphrey Bogart, Doris Day and Jimmy Durante. In 1938, he reviewed “The Wizard of Oz,” then playing at the Loew’s Penn (“Definitely … a picture to see,” he concluded).

Now he was stuck in a small, sterile conference room that was becoming increasingly smokey from lighted cigarettes. Before him were four odd-looking young men from Liverpool. Guys like Monahan remained certain that songs like “She Loves You” and “Please Please Me” would age like room-temperature fish. Sooner or later, America would wise up and get back to real music by true artists like Frank Sinatra and Perry Como.

In an article that fairly grunts with sarcasm, Monahan gave this account of the Beatles entrance:
“No burst of trumpets -- but, heavens to Betsy, suddenly there they are, girls -- and in the flesh. Not looking too rosy either, sorta muddy pale, and those egg-beater hairdos do nothing for them in the way of sex appeal.”

The Beatles were by now accustomed to skepticism and even mockery from the American press. As they settled into their seats, Paul whistled a tune. Cameras clicked. “Look down here, Paul,” a photographer called out. Paul was the epitome of cool. He continued to whistle. Then he began softly singing lyrics.

“Well no one told me about her,” he sang, almost in a whisper, “the way she lied.”

Few in the room could have recognized the tune -- “She’s Not There,” by another British band, the Zombies. The song was then No. 12 on the U.K. singles chart. It would reach No. 2 in the U.S. on the Billboard Hot 100, but not until December.

Paul wore a gray-blue suit with a tie. The rest of the band wore gray or blue sport coats -- John’s being darker than the rest, and his shirt louder, with those wild blue polka dots. And, of course, there was the hair, which dropped down over the forehead before abruptly veering right (or, in George’s case, left) at the eyebrows.

Outside, thousands of fans waited for the arena doors to open. Several pressed their faces against the arena’s thick glass and peered in. They could sense something was happening. Reporters inside heard their screams and howls.

After several moments, a male voice called out, “How about the wear and tear on the clothes, boys, how many sets did you have to bring?”

And so the Pittsburgh press corps’ first meeting with the musical group that had become a worldwide phenomenon began with a question about the lifespan of clothing.

It wouldn’t get much better.

“What do you like for women’s fashions?” one reporter asked.

"I like long hair, you know,” Paul said. “And modern-type clothes.”

Another question: “How do you fellas go about writing your songs?"

"We sit down in a room and just pick up a guitar or any convenient thing," John said dryly.
"Then I go, 'Hmmm-hmm-hmm-hmm,' " Paul added.

Then John: "Sometimes Ringo and I go …” And he begins to whistle melodically.

"Would you repeat that?" a reporter requested.

"Yes, “ said Paul. “Hmmm-hmm-hmm-hmm.'"

Very cute. Kaspar Monahan wasn’t happy. He didn’t bother asking any questions. Nothing seemed worthy of jotting down. At one point, someone asked about all those buttons overeager admirers tore off the Beatles’ jackets. “Paul or John or one of them said something funny, for there was a laugh, but I missed the riposte,” Monahan wrote.

Seven minutes into the session, Donnie saw an opening. His voice rose up, higher pitched and obviously younger than the rest, the words bent by a slight Southern twang:

"Ringo, there's a rumor that you're running for president. Do you have any comment on that?"

“No,” Ringo replied, “I’m not running.”

This was followed immediately by a question about Ringo’s tonsils, and whether he’d have them removed in the U.S. (No, Ringo said, he’d undergo the procedure in England.)

Sitting in the second row of reporters was a young woman who had no notebook and was keeping a low profile. Joyce Barniker wasn’t a reporter, she was a 22-year-old recent graduate of Wheaton College whose uncle Howard Shapiro was one of the concert-promoting Shapiros. That connection resulted in a pass to the press conference and, later, a front-row seat to the concert.

Joyce had a good view of Paul. She could clearly see that, in the midst of this noisy and somewhat chaotic press event, he was doodling on a piece of paper.

What on earth was he drawing? she wondered. Joyce determined to get that piece of paper.
Flashbulbs filled the room with quick explosions of light.

Donnie raised his Brownie Starflash camera, a simple device that cost about $8. Donnie knew it made him look like a small-town hick among the professionals using more expensive Nikon models. But he didn’t care.

He moved close and popped off a few images -- George staring into the camera and smiling, John looking down with a cigarette between the fingers on his right hand, Paul leaning forward and answering a question while a man in a suit emerges from behind to offer a drink in a glass with a straw. Donnie’s images are rare color pictures of the event.

The Beatles answered random questions from the crowd of reporters for about 20 minutes. Then began the press event’s second stage. Radio reporters lined up in front of each Beatle to get brief one-one-one interviews for on-air use. After several minutes, the television reporters would get their chance.

Donnie got in line. He had a favor to ask of one of the Beatles. He’d considered asking John Lennon, but Lennon’s sarcastic wit and the withering look he shot at reporters asking stupid questions gave Donnie pause. Maybe Paul would do it, Donnie thought.

He’d have to wait, however, behind KQV’s Steve Rizen, a cowboy-hat wearing DJ proud of his Texas roots. Clutching a microphone, he leaned close to Paul and asked, “Have you ever seen a Texas hat like this before?”

“Yes,” Paul replied.

“You been to Texas yet?” And then, “What is your opinion of Texas?”

Thus began the first extensive face-to-face interview with a Beatle in Pittsburgh -- with talk of cowboys and oil wells.

During the entire press conference, Rizen’s colleague Bill Clark was stationed just outside the room, where he could look inside and provide narration, repeat questions radio listeners couldn’t hear and offer comments and observations. Live broadcasting was prohibited, but Clark’s radio audience got the next best thing.

KQV used special equipment, recently developed by ABC, that allowed the station to air its coverage on a seven-second delay. Those standing outside the arena could listen to transistor radios and hear updates about events happening inside, sometimes just a few yards and seconds away.

From where he stood, Clark could see cheering fans pressed against plate glass windows “two door thicknesses away.” The crush of people was alarming.

“Frankly,” he said, “I would very sincerely urge those of you out there listening to KQV …. that you not press that hard. You’re going to come through that glass.”

Fans outside chanted, “We want the Beatles! We want the Beatles!”

And still they pressed against the glass.

“Take it easy out there,” Clark urged.

One of the arena’s glass windows would give way that day and shatter into thousands of pieces, newspapers later reported, but no one was injured. Replacing the window would cost concert organizers $450.

The room by now, Clark said, was hot, the air filled with cigarette smoke.

Rizen had finished his brief interview by accepting a sip of Paul’s drink -- “7Up, or something,” the Beatle said.

Finally, Donnie’s turn arrived. He stood in front of Paul and made a special request: A girl named Susan from Culpeper wanted a Beatle to say ‘hello’ to her.

“Paul accommodated me in the most gentlemanly manner,” Donnie recalled.

After several minutes, the radio reporters moved aside to make way for television crews. The press conference was nearing its end.



This story can be found on this site:   http://newsinteractive.post-gazette.com/longform/stories/beatles1964/index.html

Throwing tomatoes

When the Beatles arrived in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania on September 14, 1964 they were welcomed by flying produce....again.    This wasn't the first time tomatoes and the like were thrown at them (see the tour of downunder earlier in the summer).      A reporter asked Ringo about this as he stepped off the plane:

“What’s that stuff they were throwing?” Al  McDowell asked.
“Looked like a tomato, to me,” Ringo responded, pronouncing it toe-mah-toe in his thick Liverpool accent. “It’s always the same, you got a couple of lunatics in a couple of thousand … .”

She became a fan the day she met the Beatles

Usually we read stories of fans who met the Beatles on this blog.    This time we will read about a girl who was sadly going through a tragedy in her life in 1964 and was out of the loop about the Beatles.   Yet she somehow found herself at the Beatles press conference in Pittsburgh (that part is somehow missing from this story) and became an automatic Beatle fan.

“One final thing for the Beatles,” an announcer said over the public address system, “if you’d just line up (for pictures) with a little girl for the local papers, that would be fine.”

An audio recording of the next several minutes is chaotic, individual voices nearly impossible to distinguish, but one of the Beatles can be heard calling out, “Where’s the little girl?”

Then, in a sing-song manner, as if calling for a lost child, “Little girl?”

A tiny, 17-year-old brunette named Barbara Shapiro emerged in the midst of the Beatles. Barbara -- daughter of Sam Shapiro and a cousin of Joyce Barniker, who’d been watching Paul doodle -- was surprised to be thrust into the enviable role of the “little girl” posing with the Beatles. In fact, the band meant very little to her. She couldn’t understand the fans. All that silly screaming, the hysteria, the worshipful adoration. It was demeaning.

“How’s it going?” one of the Beatles asked.

Under a mix of voices and noise, a young woman can be heard talking and, at times, laughing.

“Let’s sing for her,” a Beatle said. Then, the world’s most famous voices harmonize for a brief moment.

“Lovely,” the young woman said.

Barbara Shapiro was in the midst of an odd and eventful day, one that would include moments of celebration and shock. For starters, she was two days shy of her 18th birthday. Her aunt that day had given her an early gift -- a $100 bill -- which Barbara stashed in her purse. Any happiness Barbara experienced on this day, however, was tempered by painful memories triggered by an event just a few days earlier: The unveiling of her mother’s gravestone.

Pearl Shapira Shapiro had died several months earlier after a two-year battle with cancer. It was, for Barbara, a horrendous experience. She’d watched her mother waste away and, in some of the worst moments, vomit blood. There were countless trips to the hospital. All of this was hidden from her younger brother and sister, who wouldn’t be told about their mother’s illness until the day of her death. It was all hush-hush.

“Look at John,” someone called out to Barbara.

Which one was John? Barbara was perhaps the only young woman in Pittsburgh who didn’t know. She’d not paid enough attention to the Beatles to distinguish one from the other.

It was too embarrassing to ask, “Which of you is John?” So Barbara started to turn to her right. There stood Paul. “I looked at him right in the face,” Barbara recalled. “He was absolutely mesmerizing. I got stuck on him.”

As for the rest of the Beatles, Barbara thought they needed a serious amount of dental work.

Someone suggested that Barbara pretend to faint, so she threw out her arms and threw her head back in a mock swoon.

Cameras clicked. Finally, much to the relief of Press drama critic Kaspar Monahan, the conference ended after 40 minutes.

Story from this site
http://newsinteractive.post-gazette.com/longform/stories/beatles1964/index.html

Flying to or from Pittsburg

I have posted this photo before and I am sure I will post it again because it is one of my all time favorite photos of George Harrison.    He looks relaxed and happy and this photo is posed.   It is just a wonderful snapshot and it was taken 50 years ago today.  

The guys in Pittsburgh

Ticket holders in Pittsburgh

Meeting George 1964

It was a numerologists dream, but I was totally unaware of any of that at the ripe old age of 14. I had been chosen the 14th winner in a 14 person contest to see the Beatles at the Civic Arena in Pittsburgh. It was sponsored by KQV radio whose frequency was 1410 on the AM dial. The concert was held on September 14, 1964. It was my 14th. birthday.

We watched the concert from the first row. And that was about it. We WATCHED the concert. The screaming was constant from the time they came out until the time they left the stage. I don't think anyone heard a single chord but then I don't think anyone really minded.

After the concert we were whisked backstage to meet the Beatles. It was an atmosphere of smoke, clinking glasses, loud talking and laughter, flashbulbs going off, reporters shouting questions. It was very disorienting for a 14 year old.

We were taken through the crowd where we were literally presented to the Beatles. Our audience lasted about 20 seconds but it seemed like hours. The only thing I said was..'It's my Birthday!' Upon hearing this, George Harrison said, 'Happy Birthday'. He motioned for me to sit next to him on a trunk and a black and white Polaroid picture was taken of me sitting next to George with his arm on my shoulder.

If anyone remembers the old B/W Polaroid's, you had to coat the picture with this goo after you took the picture. Needless to say that no one thought of doing that at the time. I still have the picture, but because of the lack of secret coating, it has turned to a brown color and the image is more of a negative now than the original positive image. But I know it's there. I had it framed for awhile, but I found out that light was deteriorating it due to the lack of the coating. So every now and then, I take it out. I took it out the day he passed on and I was 14 again.

I guess you could say that I was then what is now known as a dork or geek. For a guy to be "into" the Beatles they had to be uncool. Before they hit the scene I had no interests in anything. They gave me a life, which enabled me to feel confident within myself. I am re-reading this as I type and it seems so trite and yes, dorky, but I wouldn't have traded a single moment of my experience with them growing up for anything in the world.