Rugged

 

Leaving the hotel

 May 24, 1973

Martha with Jane and Paul

 December 11, 1967

George and Ringo by the marriage room in Scotland

 

Looking Back I had a dream

I always love it when I can find the story of a photo taken by a fan.   So I was thrilled when I got the April/May/June 1972 issue of McCartney Ltd fanzine and found the following story, because I could match it with photos.   From the story, we know the photos were taken on August 19, 1970.   

However -- I want to put a warning before I post the photo.   I don't want you all commenting about how these girls stalked Paul and invaded his privacy.    Yes, they did invade his privacy by going to his farm.  However, Paul didn't seem to mind with them.    We have to look at these stories through the lens of 1970 and not 2018.    And we need to accept that this is what happened.    If you agree with it or not -- this is what happened.    Because I know these ladies are still active in the Paul McCartney fan world, I am going to put their initials instead of their full names.    Personally -- I love the guts the girls in the late 60's and early 70's had.   I dont know if I could have walked eight miles to see Paul at his farm.  

Looking Back I Had a Dream

By L.W.

Published in McCartney Ltd

April/May/June 1972

When K.M., J.F. and I set out for London in July 1970, we were all very doubtful that we would see Paul.  That is why we planned on seeing him … no matter what!  Here is our wild story about our encounter on meeting Paul on his farm in Campbelltown, Scotland.

We all set out for Scotland that cool Wednesday morning in London on August 18^th.  You should have seen us – it looked like we hadn’t slept for weeks but there was hope and excitement in the air, so we carried on.

Arriving in Glasgow airport sent chills down my whole body!  However, I was not aware of the hours of traveling ahead of us.  There was a half hour ride to the bus terminal from the airport by taxi, plus a five and half hour ride by bus to Campbelltown itself.  A funny thing happened at the bus terminal thought.  There was a young ticket man at the counter and when we replied that we wanted to go to Campbelltown, he looked me straight in the eye and said, “Americans going all the way up to Campbelltown just to see Paul!!!”  My face flushed and I asked him how did he know.  He said that there were quite a few foreigners going up there for the same reason.  We also learned in amazement that the fare was 58 shillings and now we saw our spending money getting lower and lower.  We had a three-hour wait so we decided to tour the dingy seaport city of Glasgow.  Needless to say, I hated it but I was really surprised to see a Woolworth’s there in the heart of the town!  ( I wish I had more money, sweaters were so cheap).  Hours seemed like days but the bus finally left and we were on our way!

The scenery in the highlands is breath-taking, especially the purple mountains in the background overlooking the Lake Loughlomin (where the famous monster is).  We were really relieved when we finally got to our stop.  Speaking for others as well, we really couldn’t believe we were in the famous village of Campbelltown!  I had made reservations (from London) for our hotel (the Argyll hotel) but having only 63.10 each left to our names we couldn’t afford to stay there two nights as we had planned.  Being very tired and weary after our long trip, we tried to look for a vacant room in the area before checking our hotel.  We went to this particular one and was told they were all filled up but we could come back the next day and she would have a room for us then.    She asked us if we wanted to stay in her living room but we were afraid that we would be intruding too much.  We walked over a few blocks where the hotel was and signed in (everyone kept looking at us like they knew why we’re here).  At this point, K and I got a little giddy and acting stupid.  I guess Paul get to us that way.  Anyway, we got to bed early that night for the big day ahead of us.  A rooster woke me up the next morning so we got up and headed towards the main dining room.  We were the first ones there.  We were starved and the food was atrocious so we grabbed some rolls and bread from surrounding tables and stuffed them in our bags.  It was then that we went back upstairs, packed our things and checked over.  We went over to Kathy’s room and still didn’t know which way to go to Paul’s farm.  It was about 9 a.m. now and Kathy was surprised to see us so early.  As soon as we put our things down, we asked Mr. Ashley the direction to Paul’s farm.  He gave us a map and told us (warned us) that it was a long walk (close to 8 miles) but we didn’t care.  It was then that I was about to chicken out but thanks to K’s reassurance we started walking up and down the big hills.

 After about 2 hours of walking, we spotted a farm from a distance that looked like Paul’s (from the photos) but we learned from the workers that “High Park Farm” was another two-hour walk!  It was now about 12:30 and we finally came to this fork in the road Mr. Ashley had mentioned.  The three of us didn’t like the looks of those cows.  It was the strangest thing I ever saw – al the cows were literally staring at us.  There were two men working form a distance and they waved to us as if to say “come on, Paul’s farm is this way.”  I was shaking all over with nerves.  So many things kept on passing through my mind like what Paul would do seeing us “invading” his privacy.  We then hit “Low Park Farm.”  Paul’s neighbors are the MacDougalls.   We heard lots of strange things from kids in London about him.  Upon walking up to his farm, MacDougall greeted us with a shotgun in his hand.  Talk about being scared.  We were literally on the verge of a nervous breakdown at this point.  MacDougall was drunk and dirty and alongside of him was his dingy wife.  We greeted them with a “hello there” and he looked at the lot of us in a “pirate” manner and asked us what we were doing up there.  We tried to explain that we wanted to give these presents to Paul.  We were rudely interrupted by his heavy Scottish brogue saying, “Aye, that’s what they all say…”  I was getting a bit annoyed now because our hearts were to see Paul not have a chat with a drunken farmer.  After answering a few questions he finally let us go and we were now entering Paul’s land! 

 At this point, we were afraid of our shadows, never mind the sheep.  We were all silent now.  I suppose they were all thinking back on the first time they saw Paul.  It was my second time now.  We finally hit the top of the hill and saw HIS farm below us.  I was really surprised to see it.  How in the world Paul could live in such a run-down place such as that one.  When we hit the gate that said,  “Keep Gate Closed” we were all wondering if we should go up to the house and knock?  Thinking back now, I laugh at what we must have looked like.  We must have looked like the cowardly lion, the Tin Man and the Scarecrow walking down the yellow brick road to see the Great Wizard of Oz!  Our heads at a downcast, we walked to the house.  I was the one that was greeted by a pair of muddy boots near the house.  THERE WAS PAUL!  I swear, I wouldn’t have ever recognized him if it weren’t for those eyes of his.  I greeted him with a very soft, “Hello Paul” and he said hello to us and before we could say anything else he told us (very nicely mind you) “..you know I don’t like anyone coming up here!”  I explained (at this point it looked like I would be the spokesman for the group) to Paul, “Paul we’re very sorry,  but we just had to see you before we left for the States.”  Paul then asked us, “Where are you from then?”  We all chanted in flat unison “New York.”  Paul gave us a half smile and then I broke in and said, “Oh here Paul (giving him the presents) there are for you.  We were going to buy Linda some flowers, but we are dead broke.”  It was then I got my good look at him.  His hair cut short, he had a 5’clock shadow (needed a shave badly), he had on a blue flannel shirt, with a pullover red sleeveless sweater, very baggy trousers tucked inside these big boots of his.  But we still love Paul all the same. 

 The conversation shifted over to Martha when she made her grand appearance.  She decided that I was her first target and jumped right on me.  Now I had a skirt on and that is the worst thing to wear when going up to a farm.  Paul kept staring at my legs – not that I’m any Liz Taylor but it was embarrassing.  Then Martha wanted to be friendly with K and tried to jump on her.  K ran around J (J who stood there in amazement) and I whispered to K (what seemed like a whisper) “K don’t be afraid!”  Paul replied, “She’s (Martha) not afraid of you!”  I smiled at Paul and he in return stared at me.  That was then that our attention for a minute was drawn to the house at the side.  Linda appeared.  I was worried that she would start shouting and yelling at us.  Paul turned to her, nodded his head to her to signal to her to go in the house and said, “It’s alright!”  He then turned to us and gave us another one of his famous half smiles.  It was then J asked if Mary was in the house.  Paul gave J a simple “Yes” answer.  When J asked if we could see her, he gave a simple “no”  (He wasn’t nasty –still nice).  K asked then if he was going back to London.  Strangely, Paul asked us, “Have you been around the house?”  I don’t know how that ended but I was glad it did.  I then asked Paul if he was still writing.  Paul looked at me a bit mixed up and J said, “Paul, you know … writing!”  Paul looked at me in a “sexy” way and said, “I’m always writing.”  We were running out of things to say so remembering what K said before we saw him.  I said, “Paul would you mind if we take a picture? Paul replied “just one”.  J asked if Linda could get in the picture also and Paul replied: “I’m not posing.”  So we all clicked at the same time.  I practically banged my camera in my face  I was so damn nervous. 

 Unfortunately, we ran out of things to say (really what could we talk about especially after that court mess with Apple?).  We were all looking at each other and Paul said in a long paul between each of the last words.  “Well…cheerio.”  I wanted so bad to go up to him and hug him, and I wanted to tell him how much I loved him.  Of course, I couldn’t.  As we walked up his muddy path, we wanted to turn around and wave but we were still so nervous so we didn’t.  Paul’s workers drove us down to the village.  I can’t describe how I love him, maybe that’s what they call love….

Just a little off kilter

Beatles artwork

This photo was taken in Scotland in October 1963.   From what I understand the man with the Beatles drew this caricature of the Beatles and presented it to him.  Then the Beatles signed it and it was give away for a contest prize.  

Old McCartney had a farm

All photos taken by Linda McCartney 

The new Lennon family autograph

This photo and set of rare autographs were from when John had the car accident in Scotland with Julian and Kyoko.   Someone obtained the signatures of not just John and Yoko, but the two children as well.   This is currently available to bid from  the Tracks Auction. 

My night with the Beatles

I found this story about the Beatles Glasgow concert in October 1964 and the riot that happened in the Scottish Review. 

My night with the Beatles
By Michael Elcock

Renfield Street is packed solid with people. I fight through the crowd to the stage door and bang on it with my fist. Jimmy Murray is already inside. Jimmy is training in Aberdeen along with me. We're both still in our teens.

'They can only get three thousand people in here,' Jimmy explains when I'm safely inside the theatre. 'All these punters outside want in, but they haven't got tickets.' 'They seem to be getting quite wound up about it,' I tell him. The crowd stretches for blocks, filling the surrounding streets, stopping the traffic.

The theatre manager explains what he wants us to do. A security man stands at his side. About 30 of us trainee managers have been drafted in from all over Scotland and the north of England to help run the evening's event, a gala live show with the Beatles – as it turns out, one of the last live shows they'll ever do indoors in Britain.

'You've got tae keep the wimmen off them,' explains the security man when the manager has finished. 'Stop them frae stormin' the stage.' Both Jimmy and I are over six feet tall, and so we're directed to stand right in front of the stage, facing the audience, with our backs to the performance.

'We've got time to nip across the road for a pint before the show,' says Jimmy, checking his watch. 'There's a good hour yet.' We check with the bruiser at the stage door so that he'll recognise us when we return, then let ourselves out into the crowd, and force our way across the street. The crowd is thicker than ever, but the bar opposite is surprisingly empty. We sit up at the counter and order beer. A young woman slides into a seat next to us at the bar, a dark-eyed, brown-skinned girl. She glances at us.

'You with the show?' she asks, eyeing the tuxedos that all Rank's management people have to wear. Her voice is cool, her accent unmistakeably American. She's barely in her 20s. 'Yes.' We introduce ourselves. She tells us her name is Mary Wells, and we realise that she's one of the stars in the show – she'll be singing on stage just before the Beatles. She's just had a big hit in Britain and the United States called 'My Guy', and she is quite lovely, with a level of assurance and sophistication we're not used to finding in a woman who's virtually the same age as we are.

We don't know what to say to her at first; don't know how to speak with someone like this from another world, sitting with us in a Glasgow bar. Our beer arrives and Mary says, 'I'll get them. I'd like to buy the drinks. Everyone's been very kind to me since I came here'.

Neither of us realise then just how big a star Mary is in the United States. She was one of the first singers to bring an evocative mix of folk and gospel and blues to popular attention, and many consider her the true founder of the famous Motown sound. She's a close collaborator of the legendary Smokey Robinson, and the Beatles have specifically invited her to tour with them. But Mary doesn't say anything about these things; she doesn't speak about herself at all. Her gentle humility and interest in her surroundings opens us up and we pass half an hour with her, talking about the United States, about Detroit where she's from, about ourselves.

She's unusually unassuming for someone in the theatre business, but when Jimmy and I compare notes later, we both find that we're left with a small, almost imperceptible impression of sadness about her, an air of loneliness. We put it down to homesickness.

When it's time to go back to the theatre we push our way to the stage door, shielding Mary from the crowd. There's a smell of burning in the air, and the crowd is crammed across the street, from one side to the other. We hear the sound of breaking glass from somewhere nearby. A parked car has been rolled on its side and set on fire. Police and fire bells fill the air, and the Glasgow polis move in on horseback to patrol the street and push the people back.

It's just as wild inside the theatre. The stalls and the dress circle are overflowing with young girls. There's hardly a man in the place. Jim and I move out and take up our stations in front of the stage, to the right of centre, at the foot of one of the main aisles.

Sounds Incorporated are the lead-off group. They come on stage, and they're good. Not every group plays well live; some of them are simply products of the recording studio. Sounds Inc are better than most, but not quite as good as their records. Mary comes on when they're finished, and sings with a voice full of character and soul. She is lovely and talented, but somehow out of place in this setting, with an audience of crazy girls who only want to hear the Beatles.

Then the Beatles come on, the four of them bouncing onto the stage, with John Lennon in the lead. They pick up their instruments, and the place erupts. Young women flood into the aisles and surge in a wave towards the stage. The Beatles begin to play. The screaming starts and we're right in the middle of it; a thin, black line in our monkey suits, standing in no man's land between the stage and 3,000 frenzied women.

The Beatles launch right in to 'Twist and Shout'. And the songs come belting out without a break. 'Can't Buy Me Love', 'If I Fell In Love With You', 'A Hard Day's Night', and the others. The sound man cranks up the volume to combat the noise of the screaming, and the women charge down on the stage like a manic tide, and fling themselves, weeping and crying and screaming, at our thin wall of defenders. The Edinburgh Academy never prepared me for this.

The Beatles are good – very good – much better live than they are on record. The sound they make is extraordinary. It blasts out of massive speaker stacks that reach up to the proscenium, and I find myself staggering under the onslaught, temporarily unbalanced
by it.
I catch one girl and try to push her back up the aisle, and four more launch themselves at me. They climb over the seats, and throw themselves over the top of the other patrons like a medieval horde, while the Beatles play on, moving seamlessly from one song into another, each one sending the audience into fresh paroxysms of ecstasy and hysteria. Girls further back who can't reach the stage begin to throw things; combs, lipstick, and pieces of underwear sail over our heads, onto the stage. Lennon kicks a brassiere back into the audience, laughs, and plays on.

We try linking arms for a few minutes, but it's hopeless. The women burrow under us, try to climb over us, dart between our legs, threaten to overwhelm us with a crush of massed bodies. I catch two more of them, one on each arm, and struggle to hold station. The music powers on, louder and louder, the volume so high that I'm starting to feel dizzy, the heat excruciating under the lights. But I know that if I fall down I'll be trampled.

The Beatles change to a softer instrumental piece from 'A Hard Day's Night'. Another girl flings herself at me in an effort to reach the stage. She is utterly distraught, weeping uncontrollably, her face and hair wet with tears. She falls against me, too exhausted now to scream. I hold on like death, and suddenly she relaxes. 'Oh, this is nice,' she says.

Her eyes close and she holds my arms about her and rocks backwards and forwards. I catch a glimpse of Jimmy beside me, his bow tie askew, one sleeve of his jacket torn off. Two girls are beating at his chest and face with clenched fists, trying to climb over him onto the stage. He looks as though he's been in a Glasgow brawl. Except that there is lipstick on his cheek, and a huge grin on his face.
It goes on like this for an hour, and then the show is over. I feel like a piece of blotting paper, saturated and then wrung out. But we'd all been invited at the briefing for post-show drinks upstairs in the theatre restaurant, and now we're just about ready for it. After the curtain comes down we wait until the theatre is empty and nothing is left onstage except for the speaker stacks and Ringo's drum kit.

We find that the madness has shifted backstage; it's pandemonium, as if half the fans from the front of the house have somehow found their way to the back of the theatre.

Paul, Ringo, George and then John push their way through the crowd, and sweep two steps at a time up the wide staircase, Lennon making faces and tossing out quips. Girls grab at the Beatles’ clothes, trying to tear off souvenirs. Jimmy and I muscle our way through the crush, and climb the stairs. Everyone is packed like pilchards into a huge room. The Beatles are at the front, guzzling cakes and hors d'oeuvres, but we find ourselves stuck at the back behind a sea of heads. We each grab a bottle of Carlsberg and look around for Mary Wells, but we can't see her in the crush. So we hang around for as long as it takes us to drink the beer, and then we head off in search of a pub.

It's the night before my 20th birthday, the night I take a drink with the Beatles; sort of. It seems like a long time ago.

Beatles concert in Glasgow---first hand account

This story was written by a fan who attended the Beatles concert on October 21, 1964 in Glasgow.  She wrote about the event for "With a little help from my friends" fanzine and I have reproduced it for you.   The photos I have posted were taken on the same day, before the Beatles went to the concert. 

The Beatles in Glasgow

21 October 1964

By Moira Warren –Scotland

The closest I ever got to the Beatles in concert was on Wednesday 21^st October 1964.  My sister, Marion and I had been unlucky six months earlier.  The last time the Beatles had been to Glasgow, so we’d been doubly determined to get tickets this time.   They were appearing at the Odeon Theatre, and like the April concerts booking was strictly post only.  Glasgow had been quick to clamp down on queuing for tickets at the beginning of the year when the “powers that be” had been disturbed at the reports they’d heard from other cities of massive lines of fans quite willing to camp out for weeks to secure tickets.  Anyway, last time we’d waited till the Odeon started accepting bookings but there were so many applications we had no luck.  I think I cried for a week!  Nothing kept us from holding a vigil outside the Odeon for about 8 hours, though on the actual day.  I did get a 2 second glimpse of Paul at a window high up above us which more than made up for the way the Mounted Police kept herding us around that place.

For the two concerts that night in October we’d made sure we’d get tickets by sending the applications the minute Glasgow was rumoured to be included in the 1964 tour.  We had nothing to lose and it paid off beautifully.  Marion and I sent for tickets separately, each applying for one of the shows, and we were lucky enough to get to see BOTH shows!

Details of that day are very hazy but I can remember taking the bus into town and the total chaos in the city centre as the fans gathered in the vicinity of the Odeon.  There was a lot of trouble between police and ticketless fans later, but we were safely inside by then.  Outside there was some violence, as the mounted police started charging into the crowds in an effort to move the fans on.  In retaliation some idiots turned a car over and tried to set it on fire, so that meant the fire brigade on the scene as well!  There were quite a few arrests which spoilt things the following year because in 1965 the police overreacted and outnumbered the fans which completely dampened the atmosphere outside.  The rest of the show was okay, I suppose with Mary Wells and a young Liverpudlian, Tommy Quickly.  I liked him a lot but somehow he was one of the few Brian’s “Empire” who didn’t have any real success.

Other acts on the bill were the Rustiks, Michael Haslam, Sounds Incorporated and the Remo Four.  Much as I would enjoy the supporting acts on any other occasion no one could take my mind off the fact that it was the Beatles show!  I don’t remember really what all the other singers sung except Mary Wells doing “My Guy.”  That’s always been one of my favourites and I secretly dedicated it to Paul.  Tommy was on directly before the Beatles and his last song was “The Wild Side of Life.”  It’s funny but even all these years later to hear that particular song always brings back the thrill of NOT Tommy Quickly, but how I felt when they appeared!

For the first show we had fantastic seats in the 6^th row, directly in front of Paul, and it was almost too much to take being so close to all four of them!  They were all beaming wildly and waving acknowledgment which only sent the screams soaring to about the threshold of pain.

It was so noisy my head hurt but I quickly got used to it.  They had on dark suits, white shirts, dark knitted ties and those lovely zippered “Beatle” boots.  I’m pretty sure the first number was “A Hard Day’s Night” but as to the order of the others I’m very confused and I must confess I don’t actually remember all of them either!  I make no apologies for that fact because within minutes I was “drunk” on just watching Paul up close, and I’m sure you can understand that my mind just wasn’t taking much in, apart from him.  He could have been singing in Chinese for I cared!  I do remember though “Things We Said Today” was another they sung in the early part of the show.  George had an impressive array of guitars lined up in front of Ringo’s drum kit, and every so often he’d’ go and change to another very thoughtfully.  He did before “and I love her” which Paul proceeded to sing in that way he has making every girl think it’s just for her alone.

Needless to say he left half of the audience in tears including me!  George took over for “I’m Happy Just to Dance with you” which brought fresh waves of screams from his particular fans.  I spent half that song watching my friend Irene because every so often she’d jump about 6 feet in the air as George treated us to the Harrison Shuffle.  I was getting as much fun out of watching her as I was watching George.  Ringo’s solo was “I wanna be your man” and he was so full of confidence compared to the last concert I’d seen in 1963.  Then he’d looked more apprehensive and didn’t smile too much.  This time he had a lovely grin on his face all through the song and I just loved the way his silky mop swished to the music.

By this time it was really hot in that hall and John had long since tugged his tie loose.  George didn’t seem particularly bothered by the heat but I was just willing Paul to loosen his tie because he was sweating so bad.  It was like little rivers trickling down his face and literally flying onto his jacket.  If I had to retain just one picture of that concert in my head, it’d be Paul’s face just then.

John and Paul shared vocals for “If I fell” and they looked so good together and really happy.  It makes me want to cry thinking about it all these years later.  I think “You can’t do that” was also sung that night but honestly my memory is, as I’ve said hazy to say the least!  During one of the songs, one lucky girl appeared out of the wings (at about 100mph) and took a flying leap onto John.  I might have missed the whole incident but for Marion digging me so hard in the ribs with her elbow that I’ve still got the bruise.

John was in a lovely mood that night and seeing her coming, he quickly whipped his guitar around out of the way, and hugged her for about 10 seconds before two huge security guards dragged her struggling away.  I think John enjoyed it as much as she did because he seemed almost sorry and just shrugged his shoulders as she was led away.  “I should’ve known better” with John standing asride the mike Lennon-fashion was beautiful and all too soon, it seemed, Paul was breathlessly announcing the last number, “Long Tall Sally.”  I know at the time I heard quite a lot that was said but honestly now all I can remember is the dozen or so “Thanks” and “ta’s” and Paul thanking us for being a lovely audience and saying Glasgow was great.

By the time he launched into the final song I was ready to collapse on the floor because I couldn’t’ stand to watch him sweat like that any longer – yet at the same time, my eyes were glued to his face and I just watched the drops forming on his forehead and waited in agony till they trickled down past those eyes.

Well, that was it, they disappeared as fast as they bounced on and I was left with some beautiful memories and very painful knuckles.  In my sweet oblivion I’d been hitting my hands on the seat in front.  It hurt for days but I’d pay that small price again to see a Beatles concert form the 6^th row!

 

At the City of Discovery

The Beatles had played in Dundee, Scotland year prior to this performance and the fans were excited to have them back for another set of concerts.  The Beatles arrived in Dundee and went to the Caird Hall where they were interviewed and photographed.

One visitor they had backstage was Margaret, the Countess of Strathmore.   The Countess was in the minority of the day because she spoke out about how much she disliked the Beatles concert .  She wrote a letter to a newspaper saying how the Beatles fans were "appalling and bad mannered for screaming so hard that she couldn't hear the music." 

The concert itself must have been quite a scene.  40 large men, many of them national wrestling champs were standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the stage to block any young Beatlemaniac from trying to get onstage with the boys.  There were another 35 on stand-by at various places around the hall just in case things got really out of control.

The fans were warned of all of this and things started out nicely with chants of "We love you Beatles" that turned into all out screaming by the time the boys hit the stage.  The newspaper reported that in the first  5 minutes of the Beatles performance 50 (!) fans fainted or were crying hysterically and had to be carried away.   Wow!

At the end of Long Tall Sally someone came on stage and tried to get the fans to call the Beatles back onstage for an encore, but us Beatle fans are smart and they already knew the routine of the show.  So when the Beatles were trying to leave the venue, at least 1000 people were blocking their way.  The police had to use their cars and dogs to try to get the Beatles into the car.   And even then, fans were flinging themselves onto the car while screaming uncontrollably.    No injuries occurred and it was just another regular night for the Fab 4.

Edinburgh 50 years ago

After a few days off, the Beatles traveled by plane to Scotland for three performances there, the first one in Edinburgh.   When they got to the ABC cinema, where the two performances where to be held, the Beatles and Brian Epstein got pushed into the crowd of screaming fans and things got a bit scary for the five of them as they were pushed up against the glass windows of the cinema.    One of the security guards saw John Lennon's face smushed up against the window and rushed out to help the Beatles, leaving poor Brian out in the mob.    Eventually someone got Brian safely inside.  It was a close call and it amazes me that the Beatles never got seriously hurt at any of these concerts.

Once they were safely inside it was the usual questions and photos for the press including some goofy photos of Ringo doing an impression of a mother entertaining a small boy (??????)

One fan who saw the concert was then 16 year old Chris Warbrick, who attended the 8:30pm show.  Here are some of his memories from Martin Creasy's book:

"Mary Wells was so good.  'My Guy' was a terrific song and it sounded so good, but I didn't recognize the other songs she sang.  Tamla Motown was only just starting here and Mary-- apart from 'My Guy' was not that well known to a lot of people.  They were just there for The Beatles.  People just wanted Bob Bain (the compere for the show) him off really -- let's have the Beatles.  But of course that's about the last we heard -- him introducing them and then the noise went up.  I couldn't really hear anything and we had a loudspeaker at the end of our row.   It was just constant screaming, but it didn't really matter.  It was just a matter of being there--to be part of the occasion." 

The Red Cross said that over a dozen fans fainted during the Beatles concert and they were carried out of the cinema (boo!).    Fans who were waiting outside while the first show was going on to go in for the 2nd show passed the time by singing songs about how much they loved the Beatles.  At least three girls missed the show because they had passed out while waiting to into the 2nd show.   People said that the screams during the 2nd show was so loud that you could hear them out in the streets outside of the cinema.  

Those Early days

This picture was posted on Facebook by John Lennon's cousin David on Bill Harry's Mersey Beat page. The photograph was  taken by Stanley Parkes in Edinburgh.  Here you see  John, Aunt Mater, Mater's husband Burt Sutherland,  Cousins Liela with Michael and David in front.

The First concert

I love reading the stories of fans who attended a Beatles concert.   Everyone's story is just so interesting and their memories are just so fascinating.   It really adds to the history of the Beatles.  That is why I am encouraging any of you who attended a Beatles concert to write down your memories.  If you would like to share them with this blog, I would be super excited!  But if not...it is just an important historical memory to have documented.   

Here is a story of someone who saw the Beatles in 1963.   I love it!   Sadly out of the thousands of concert photos I have, the folder for "October 5, 1963" is empty!  I do not have any photos from this concert!  So I will have to post photos from a different concert from the tour.

This story was written by Moira Warren and is from the January 1977 issue of "With a little help from my friends."

That very first Beatle concert

By Moira Warren (Scotland)

Saturday 5^th October 1963 – what a magical date.  That was the day I first saw THEM.  The Beatles—in person on stage at the Glasgow concert Hall!  It was the opening night of a Scottish tour (a very short 3 day tour which also included Kirkcaldy and Dundee) but it all really started for me a few weeks before “B day” when my friend, June arrived on y doorstep, all breathless from running, waving those 2 precious little blue bits of paper and asked would I like to go see the Beatles with her!  (would I?) I made a sort of choking, gasping sound in answer as I snatched one of the tickets and kissed it so she guessed I did want to see the Beatles!

Those 2 weeks or so literally dragged until October 5^th.  At work, I was often found just sitting in a daze thinking about actually seeing the Beatles!  Their records “She loves you” was #1 and although that was their 3^rd #1 in a row that year, most people were just beginning to notice this fairly new group from Liverpool but I’d noticed them months before.  I’d fallen in love with the Beatle sound and Paul in particular at the beginning of ’63.  After seeing them on TV and hearing them interviewed on radio, I was just dying to actually see them in the flesh.

At long last, October 5^th came.   I got up at the crack of dawn but couldn’t eat a thing.  I don’t know now what I wore but I’d guess it was a black polo necked jumper and either skirt or trousers.  I think it was trousers.  I also know for sure I had at least a dozen Beatles badges on that regulation black polo!  (All Beatle fans wore black polo’s!)  I think you call them turtlenecks in America.  I hung around the clock all morning looking at it every two minutes, just waiting or June to call round se we could set off. It was pretty cold that day but I can’t say I felt it as we left at about 2:30pm to catch a bus into town.  Our show (the second) didn’t start until 8:30pm so we had hours to wait.  We decided to just walk around the town looking for anyone remotely “Beatle-like” (in those days they were easy to spot because not many had long hair yet).  After the shows we found out the boys had been staying at the Central Hotel but although we walked past there at least twice, we hadn’t seen a thing!

There wasn’t the obvious Beatlemania that Glasgow was soon to see 6 months later in April 1964 when the Beatles next visited, but the excitement amongst the fans was intense to say the least.

Eventually we made our way back to the concert halls to queue for the 2^nd show.  Hundreds of girls were already waiting outside so after all the waiting, this was it!

Here we were standing outside the hall and THEY were inside! We heard a fresh wave of screams great what must have been the last number of the 1^st show.  It was, and soon tearful, sobbing girls stumbled out to the normally busy, but usually much quieter Argyle Street.  Passersby over the age of 20 stared in amazement, they didn’t know The Beatles were the cause of all the excitement!  John, George, Paul and Ringo were not to become household words for another 6 weeks or so – then the whole of Britain (and soon the world) would know exactly who those four cheeky looking kids with the stone-age hairstyles were.

We privileged few (for the hall only held 1,500) knew already that these four boys were special.

We noticed extra policemen arrive just then and soon whispers began about a bomb being in the building!  There mustn’t be, I prayed.  Not with the Beatles inside—there can’t be!  Of course after a ten minute search it turned out to be a hoax – but what an anxious ten minutes!  We should have known it was a hoax after all, how could a poor little bomb be heard above “Twist and Shout?”

One of our local newspapers, the “Evening Citizen” had a special front page on the Beatles that night, and I’ve never seen papers sell so fast!  Our papers were to have “Beatle” specials every few months until about ’66 after that – but in October ’63 we just didn’t realize how things were to explode for the Beatles.  June and I dutifully handed over our 3d for our copy of “The Citizen” and started talking to a very agitated girl there on her own.  We’d noticed her before and she seemed even more excited than the others, although by this time every girl (including me) was shaking like a leaf!  She said “Hello.  I’m Irene, George’s my favorite and I’m going to meet them after the show!”  To that, I replied, “Hello.  I’m Moira.  Paul’s my favorite, and pull the other one, it’s got bells on.”  Of course we didn’t believe her but Irene kept bouncing up and down insisting she was going to meet him (George that is).  She was waving a newspaper which confirmed her story about 6 lucky competition winners meeting the Beatles after the show.  We did eventually write to her, but at that moment as we were slowly being allowed into the hall that was the last thing on our minds.  We had but 4 thoughts!

In the foyer we paid 2/- for a programme, gasping at the four familiar faces on the cover as we did so I said, “Look at Paul!” and June replied, “ohhh, look at John!”  Our conversations usually sounded a bit like that.  We hurried to row K14 and I didn’t know at the time but I was right on john’s side.  The tickets cost 17/6d but worth it to get such good seats (13 was all I was earning at the time so 17/6d seemed a lot then).   At last the show started but we had to sit for what seemed like ages before they were due on.  We sat shuffling our feet, biting our nails and politely clapping a whole host of acts like the “the Carnavelles,”  “Malcolm Clarke and the Cresters,” “Johnny Hudson and the Teenbeats,”  “Housten Wells and the Marksmen,” “the Overlanders,” and “Andy Ross and his Show Band” (yes really).  Looking back, I can’t remember what any of them looked like.  Needless to say, none of them have been heard of from that day to this!  What we Beatle fans have to suffer!  Then as an army of assorted policemen, ambulancemen and Stewards (about 50) positioned themselves around the front of the stage, my stomach turned a dozen summersaults and the curtains opened and the loudest shriek that Glasgow had ever heard ripped its way around the Hall and bounced from wall to wall!  I’d never heard anything like it because this was the first concert I’d ever been to in my life.  I’ll never forget it as long as I live. 

There they were at last!  John, George and Paul beaming wilding and looking so innocent.  I can’t really remember if Ringo, sitting high up and poised on his dreams was smiling too—somehow don’t think so. 

George seemed terrified of the noise as he gingerly stepped forward, took held of the mike with his left hand and said something that was completely inaudible before starting to sing.  They chose “Roll over Beethoven” to open the show but they alone knew that at the time!  (I found out the next day after reading the reviews).  I couldn’t hear a thing except the screams and the shouts of “John, Paul, George and Ringo!”

Now I knew why George looked so scared, before he’d finished singing, he was knee deep in Jelly Babies!  And he kept flinching as one or more sailed past his head.  He seemed glad to get back in front of Ringo’s drum and leave Paul and John in the line of fire (serves him right for saying he liked Jelly Babies!).  As Paul stepped forward I could see him clearer.  We were directly in front of John so I had to stand sideways to see Paul best.  I’m really glad John’s shortsighted and couldn’t’ see into the audience!  Paul looked even more angelic in person as he introduced the next song (whatever that was).  He looked like a beautiful choir boy in his lovely collarless suit.  They were a grey/blue colour and Paul had a knife-edge crease in his trousers.  I remember that!  His black Cuban-heeled boots made him look much taller than I’d imagined he’d be.  My eyes simply adored him.  I just knew Paul McCartney was going to stay someone very special in my life.  The 30 or 40 minutes they were on stage flew like 30 seconds.  I don’t remember the order of the songs or even all of them.  But I do remember Ringo, in a huge spotlight, belting out “Boys” for all his worth.  Paul screamed the backing vocals to that as if in an effort to drown poor Ringo out.  I think George was at the mic too but I can’t honestly remember.  Anyway, Ringo retaliated by punishing those drums.  I thought any minute his foot would go through the floor!

I remember Paul singing “A taste of honey”, “I’ll get you,” then “She loves you” next with Paul and George trying to outdo each other, you know, at the “Oooo” bits to see who could shake his furry head the wildest!  I’ll never forget the way they kept looking at each other and laughing.  They must have known the effect they were having on us poor girls.  “Please please me,”  “From me to you,”  “I saw her standing there”, “Do you want to know a secret” and then all too soon John was asking us to clap and hands and stamp our feet for “Twist and Shout” there’ll never be a song to equal that for a closing a show!  He literally brought the house down that night because if we’d only have looked up, the entire balcony was jumping up and down in time to the music!  I do remember looking up once or twice – so I guess there was something going on.  John screamed “Twist and Shout” like his life depended on it!  He sung it with such force that even I had to turn my head around.  After that, I kept one eye on John and the other on Paul and George.

In the near riot that had developed, 100 seats collapsed and a girl tensed up with emotion punched clear though a plasterboard wall!  Anyway the following day’s newspapers reported that riot long with the story of the balcony swaying dangerously and plaster etc., falling down below.  So the result of all that meant a complete ban on any more concerts in that particular hall. 

As the last chord of “Twist and Shout” faded and died, the curtains closed and they were gone.  I flopped to my seat exhausted then we picked up our programmes and other souvenirs, just looking at one another.  We didn’t need to speak; we both felt exactly the same.  No words are quite adequate when you’ve just seen them.  We slowly made our way out amidst an eerie silence, broken only by sobs as I remember.  When I at last spoke, on our way home, I found my voice a hoarse whisper (I stayed like that for the next week too).  I could have sworn it’d been everyone else screaming!  I don’t really remember how or when we eventually got home.  It was late anyway.  I suppose it’s possible we could’ve walked the 7 miles.  I just don’t remember.

What I will always remember was the first time I ever saw John, Paul, George and Ringo.  I did see the Beatles in ’64 and ’65 too.  But that very first concert will always hold extra special memories.  What I’d give to go back to 1963 for just one hour!