Paul and the fam in Holland

 August 19, 1976 

Din of Iniquity to Some Thrill More Than 20,000 (Memphis 1966)

 

Din of Iniquity to Some Thrill More Than 20,000

By Edwin Howard

The Memphis Press

August 20, 1966

    The songs are ended, but the melee lingers on. The melee is Beatlemania, and if anything, it's worse today because 20,128 Memphisians, Mid Southerners, and hundreds of Outlanders have now actually seen and sort of heard the Beatles like in person.

     For five hours yesterday, the swinging Liverpudlians and their fellow travelers, the Ronettes, the Cyrkle, the Remains, and Bobby Helm [sic] turned the Colosseum into a den of iniquity, in the opinion of another 8000 Memphisians and Mid-Southerners who attended a religious rally at the auditorium protesting Beatle John Lennon's recent alleged anti-Christian statements. Another 600,000 or so Memphisians stayed away altogether, perhaps expressing the opinion that what the Beatles brought to Memphis was a DIN of inequity. 

    Whatever it was that emanated from that seven-foot-high Colosseum platform, it certainly, in the words of another British entertainer of some years ago, "split the ears of the groundlings, who, for the most part, are capable of nothing save inexplicable dumb shows and noise." One of the first aid men was offering earplugs to special duty policemen before the first show and finding several takers.

     Actually, Beatle music can be quite pleasant if you can hear it, but the crowd of 12,539 at last night's performance effectively drowned them out even with their Super Beatle Vox guitar amplifiers turned up full blast. Their "Yesterday" is as haunting a ballad as even an old fellow of 40 could wish. "I Want to Be Your Man" has a fine driving rhythm, and they're first-rate musicians, but the consistent obbligato of screams from the Beatles' entrance to their departure from the stage 40 minutes later made it hard to tell one tune from another. 

    Among the others were "Paperback Writer", "Nowhere Man," "If I Needed Someone", "What Can the Matter Be," and "I Feel Fine." The show was an hour and 35 minutes old before the Beatles were introduced by MC Johnny Dark of WMPS, George Klein of WHBQ did the honors at the 4o'clock show, attended by 7589. 

    The crowd was patient and responsive to the preliminary performers, of whom the Cyrkle, a clean-cut American group, seemed to me to score the highest. Negro singer Bobby Helm [sic], formerly of Nashville, got a good round of cheers for his current hit, "Sunny." But all this was as the whisper of a laconic mute to the bedlam that greeted the Beatles' mere appearance, let alone performance. A single word from John, Paul, or George, (Ringo just sat there grinning and drumming) was enough to send the constant fortissimo of audience approval crescendoing into ear-shattering shrieks of pure ecstasy. 

    The audience toll was rather less than one might have expected. Only six girls passed out and had to be taken to the aid station during the two shows. The first customer of the day, about 1130 a.m., was a girl with a purportedly twisted ankle. When a friendly aid man said he'd have to tape it and send her home, she got up indigently and walked out without a trace of a limp.

     Shortly after the Beatles appeared for the evening show, a firecracker exploded on the main floor, and Julie Wilson and Nick Isch, both 16, of Bates, Mississippi, were rushed out and to the aid station by police. Julie had a laceration on her leg from the explosion. Nobody seemed quite sure whether the pair had set off the firecracker themselves, or someone else had tossed it from above. There was a bomb report during the afternoon show, but the bomb seen under the stage turned out to be a resin bag. 

    Like everything else connected with the Beatles' ten-and-a-half-hour sarjoun in Memphis, the 7p.m. press conference was an instance of organized pandemonium. It was certainly no place for a newspaperman. Most of the press seemed to be teenage girls representing this or that small-town weekly or radio station, and the crying crush occasioned by the Beatles' appearance was enough to make an old news hand tear up his press card. 

    A few cogent questions were asked and coolly answered. Lennon, asked about the rash of Beatles record bans following Datebook magazine, quoting him as saying the Beatles are more popular than Jesus, and said, "I don't mind people banning our records or not liking them. That's their right to ban them or not play them or play them, but a lot of the banning seems to have been for publicity. They seem to be lifting the bans now because they've got their publicity, but they still seem to need to play our records. "

    Asked if he had mentioned religion in his two published books, Lennon said, "Yes, there's a little on religion in both, and people could make more of them than anything in that magazine, because I'm as serious about my writing as anything. It's not flippant."

     On why they didn't come to Memphis to record one of their albums earlier this year: "Little things kept getting in the way, like money. We wanted to come. A couple of tracks would have been much better if we had come. We wanted Steve Cropper, a guitarist for Booker T and the MGs, to A&R direct the session. He's the best we've heard."

     On why John is going to be in a movie, How I Won the War, by himself without the others: "Because this fellow rang me up and said, 'You want to be in a movie by yourself without the others?'"

     On the Bible Belt:  "We've never heard of it before we came. It's just a tag like the Mop Top Four. It doesn't really mean anything."

     The Beatles departed Memphis at 12:12 a.m. today on their chartered American Airlines Electra for Cincinnati. They and their troop took $71,957.60 with them. 65% of their shows. 110,704 gross. The Memphis promoters, Early Maxwell Associates, paid all Memphis expenses out of the remaining $38,746.40. About 50 fans were at the airport, at the Air National Guard gate, to see the Liverpool Longears off. Two carloads made it onto the runway, but were chased off by security police. Well, that's Beatlemania for you. Hair today, gone tomorrow.

Show by The Beatles is a Scream (1966 Memphis)

 

Show By The Beatles is a Scream

By Thomas BeVier

The Commercial Appeal

August 20, 1966

     Emily Strider, hands folded, face emotionless, and sweet 16, yawned as the Remains bounced their music, with the help of seven amplifiers, off the walls and ceilings of the Colosseum. And then it happened: the Beatles pranced on stage in their gray mod suits with red vertical stripes and abbreviated jackets. Emily, who drove to Memphis early yesterday afternoon from her home in Charleston, Mississippi, started to cry. Then she started to scream. Then she started shaking her head wildly and pounding her knees with her fists. It was a commentary on uninhibitedness. Just sort the sort of thing Jerry Leighton had been talking about earlier when he was trying to figure out the difference between a nickel and a quarter.

     Leighton is a disc jockey from England who is traveling with the Beatles on their tour of the United States. His is a "pirate station", one of several that operate on ships off the English coast because commercial stations aren't allowed in England. "The Beatles are a phenomenon", he said, in the studied accent of a true Englishman. "I asked them once how it felt to be a phenomenon. They said it didn't feel anything."

     With help from the Yankee Press, Leighton was able to figure out how to operate the cigarette machine, and just then Brian Epstein, the Beatles' manager, walked by. "Give me two seconds," he was asked. "Two seconds. My life is spent giving people two seconds," he said. 

    His quick comment was that yes, the Memphis performance is very important to us, because of the John Lennon comment that the group is more popular than Christ. The Ku Klux Klan made its opinion known by picketing at the Southern Avenue entrance to the Colosseum grounds. The sheets and hoods lent an incongruous touch to the stream of bell-bottom trousers, paisley shirts, and high-heeled boots worn by the Beatles' faithful who filed by. There were 7,589, mostly girls and almost all teenagers, at the first performance, and another 12,539 at the second. 

    You couldn't hear the Beatles for the screaming. Before they came on stage, there were threats that anybody leaving his seat would be thrown out. It worked, and Early Maxwell, Memphis promoter of the show, was glad. "This was a real test," he said. "I've never had so much security (80 policemen) at an event; not even Bob Hope.

     Security started at 1:45 p.m., when the chartered American Airlines Electra with the Beatles and their entourage touched down on the military side of the airport. Only 10 Beatle Bugs managed to slip by guards. One, Charles Hardy, 19 Of 4931 Montgomery, even infiltrated the press corps and got a hurried, almost legible autograph from Paul McCartney for his persistence. 

    One of those meeting the plane was a harried man of about 45 from Washington.  He was Campbell Bowles, the group's advance man. "No, you can't ride in on the bus with them," he said. "No, we don't allow exclusive interviews. Yes, I am tired." Someone asked him his opinion of the Beatles and their music. "No comment," he said sharply.

Beatles Ask 'High Priest' For a Few Words of Grace (Memphis 1966)

 Beatles Ask 'High Priest' For a Few Words of Grace

By William Norton

The Commercial Appeal

August 20, 1966

    "Say the blessing, John," said a member of the Beatles' entourage. John Lennon bowed his head and muttered something about Memphis, Tennessee. Those sitting closest to him laughed. The Beatles and members of their entourage were eating in a locker room at the Mid South Coliseum between their two performances here yesterday.

    Neither the Beatles nor other members of their party realized that the waiter pouring coffee was not a waiter at all. I had slipped on a white coat and slipped in with the regular crew from Monty's Drive-In, which was catering the affair. The call for the blessing was one of the few references to the controversy caused by Mr. Lennon's statement recently that the Beatles are more popular than Christ. Most of the conversation centered around music, mostly their own. 

    There was even a reference to Memphis's own Elvis Presley. "He's in the middle of it all," said George Harrison, in a thick British accent; his comments implied that Elvis was sitting back, enjoying the current boom in rock and roll. 

    Mr. Lennon, the most talkative member of the British quartet, seemed quite relieved to have just finished a press conference. "Some people just have to have an explanation," he said, obviously referring again to the religious controversy. The Beatles' lack of appetite indicated that they are not completely immune to the pre-performance jitters experienced by almost every entertainer. John Lennon drank cups of half coffee and half milk. Paul McCartney ate a baked potato, and Ringo Starr had only a few bites of salad before leaving the room.

     George Harrison and most other members of the party ate heartily of a meal consisting of roast beef, baked potato salad with choice of dressing, and custard pie. When he finished his meal, Harrison propped his elbows upon the table, began picking his teeth, and listened to the conversation. The foursome were dressed in sports coats, slacks, and casual shoes. Lennon sported a pair of yellow-tinted steel-rimmed glasses.

     Most of the musical conversation centered around the Beatles' own compositions. "I think some of the old ones will be around for a long time," said Brian Epstein, manager of the group. "For instance, I think 'I Want to Hold Your Hand ' will always be around. 

    Mr. Lennon made a comment about recordings of Beatles compositions made by pop orchestra groups. "They like it the way they do it," he said. "But when it comes to the way we do it..." 

    As the Colosseum began to fill again, the Beatles and members of their party left the room to prepare for another performance.

You Must Be There Too!

 

August 19, 1961 

Beatles Send Their Love to Groovy Worchester Fans (Boston 1966)

 

Beatles Send Their Love to Groovy Worchester Fans

By Thomas McCabe

The Evening Gazette

August 19, 1966

    Suffolk's Down was originally designed for horse racing, but last night fans saw race after race between police and teenagers trying to get to the Beatles. This reporter did get to them, the only one of the reporters covering their concert before nearly 20,000 to do so.

     Wandering behind the tote boards near the press section, I almost tripped over Paul McCartney and George Harrison, who were standing with the bodyguard talking. "Hi, Paul," I said. "Hey, Sport," said he. Then along came John.

     The foursome, much shorter than they appear on stage, stood before me, looking very much like four teenagers. They squinted through tinted welfare glasses and brushed dust off their assortment of brightly colored bell bottoms and mod type attire.

     "I'm damn glad our American fans aren't taken in by some unscrupulous reporter who changed my words," said John in an answer to my question about his more "popular than Jesus" remark. "Americans are wonderful," said he. "Freedom of speech and the ability to understand."

     "Yeah, yeah, yeah," echoed Ringo, who stumbled up to the group. Ringo, who looks more like a rubber doll than a human being, kept most of his comments on the comic side. Are they tired? "No, man," said George. "We love what we're doing."

     Brian Epstein, Beatles' manager, wandered along at this point, dressed in blue madras bell bottoms, a pale yellow shirt, and black knit shoes with suede soles. His floppy hair and sideburns was only a shorter version of a Beatles top knot.

     "Why no press conference?" I asked Paul, referring to the cancellations of a 20-reporter press meet scheduled for earlier that day. "Are you a reporter?" asked Ringo. "I like reporters, don't I, Paul?" "Yes, you like reporters. I don't know about the press conference", said Paul. "We had a small one a little earlier at our hotel, the Hotel Somerset, Boston, but there were only a few reporter-type men there. I don't know what happened. We didn't think reporters around here liked us." "I like reporters," said Ringo. "Don't I, Paul?"

     "Stop it, Ringo," said Paul. ""Nobody tells us anything. Tom, Tom is your name, isn't it?"

     "That's a nice name," said Ringo. "I like Tom."

     A very large man tapped me on the shoulder and asked to see me privately for a minute. He introduced himself as Tony Barrow, the Beatles' press agent. "They can't talk to reporters," he said, apparently not aware that the group had just been talking to me until he interrupted. "Just one more question," I said, and I'll go back to the press bin. He hesitated. I turned and asked, "What have you got to say for your Worcester fans?"

     "They're groovy," said Paul. "Yes," said Ringo. "I send my love, said John. "And tell them they're wonderful, the best we have." George just smiled. 

    An hour later, they jumped on stage, gave the fans 11 songs in 21 minutes, and bounded for two limousines that sped from the field to the screams of sirens and fans.

     Earlier, as they arrived here, 350 state and local police, equipped with horses, motorcycles, and nightsticks, stood ready to receive the fans, mostly girls. Surprisingly enough, older teenage boys created most of the problems. A 200-pound six-footer in his late teens vaulted the fence shortly after the mop-top foursome scampered on stage. He gave police a lengthy battle before he was subdued, handcuffed, minus his shoes and socks. The unidentified teenager was dragged behind the stage by nine patrolmen. 

    Another teenage boy caused the only other major incident. With the guile of a Green Beret, he vaulted two chain-link fences, slipped past a cordon of police, and jumped onto the eight-foot stage with the Beatles. He danced from Beatle to Beatle, tagged George Harrison, John Lennon, and Paul McCartney. The Beatles didn't miss a beat. The intruder was headed for Ringo Starr when a Beatle bodyguard caught up with a flying tackle that brought them both off the stage into the waiting arms of police.

     Shortly before the end of the show, several teenage girls made vain attempts to reach their English idols, but police were quick to corner them on motorcycles and on horseback. The scene was reminiscent of an English fox hunt as the Boston patrolman jumped a fence with his horse and cut one blonde girl from the herd of intruders headed for the Beatles' dressing room. 

    The concert over, they left for the sanctuary of their hotel, awaiting a plane this morning for Memphis, Tennessee. For almost half an hour after the show ended, seven or 8000 teenagers, seven or 8000 teeners, stood near the fence, waving, throwing confetti, flash bulbs, and gumdrops, and screaming, "I love the Beatles!" Finally, their energies dissipated. Large crowds walked slowly, almost dejectedly, toward the parking lot. The Beatles were gone.

The Music of Lennon-McCartney

 

Life is At Last Complete: They Saw The Beatles (Boston 1966)

 

Life is Now Complete: They Saw The Beatles 

By Priscilla Ilinitch

The Evening Gazette

August 24, 1966

     "They're just now beginning to come down off cloud 99," declared the mother of one of the four 12- and 13-year-olds who had a tremendous experience last Thursday. Life is now going to seem pretty quiet, according to Denise Landeau, Lynn Matthew, Carol Ann Matthew, and Liz White. They've seen the Beatles. What else is left? 

    The girls had been living in almost unbearable anticipation since getting their tickets to the Boston concert two months ago. Beatles fans from the beginning, they have every Beatles record there is, and seemingly every clipping and picture. The rooms are overflowing with pictures and scrapbooks, as their mothers will attest. 

    A definite participant in the abounding enthusiasm is Carol Ann's twin, Jo Ann, unable to attend the concert because of a recent operation.  Jo Ann is just waiting for next time.

     And what's so great about the Beatles? "Why, just everything!" the girls' chorus. Although they have different favorites, their looks, their singing, and the way they can invent songs. The girls remained loyal through all the reactions to the "more popular than Jesus" comment.  "They were misunderstood," and "The remark was taken out of context," They declare with certainty.

     Having actually seen the Beatles, the girl's enthusiasm remains undiminished. "They were wonderful," Denise said with a sigh. "I wanted to scream, and no sound would come out," she reported, "but the tears just kept rolling down my face."

     "I cried just hearing about it. I can't imagine what I would have done if I had been there," said Jo Ann. The girls are still marveling at the incomparable experience of one boy who managed to get onto the stage and touch John, Paul, and George, before the police took him away. "He actually touched them!" The girls sighed. Their voices are far away and dreamy.

     One of the mothers reminds the girls of other times and other idols, but this is different. They'll always love the Beatles, of course. And one week later, the memory of life's biggest experience lingers on.

On the set

 

Beatles Fluff and Stuff (1991)

 Beatles Fluff and Stuff Set to Make £2000 for Comrie Fan!

No Writer Listed

The Strathearn Herald

August 16, 1991

    She loved them, yeah, yeah, yeah, and her obsession for the Beatles is likely to earn Comrie woman Sue Henderson over £2000 at the end of the month. A jelly baby destined for George Harrison's mouth, a piece of toast snatched from his jaws, some fluff from under his carpet-all these and more are due to go on sale at Christie's auction. 

    Sue, 44, of Roselle, the Ross Comrie was brought up in Liverpool, where she became a besotted Beatles fan by the age of 15. She explained. "A girl came to work in my office who knew John Lennon. She took me to the Cavern Club, which cost 9d to get in, and I met the band backstage."

     Sue was fired by an obsession that has branded her the Beatles' number one fan. "I went to the Cavern regularly, and they became more popular. I had to go down early to be sure I could get into the club. I often got a bus, which George Harrison's father drove. He used to tell me I was crackers to queue up so long just to see them."

     Driven by adoration, Sue called on George Harrison's parents while he was away playing in Hamburg. They asked her in for tea, and her subsequent visits provided ample opportunity for collecting material such as a discarded sock and a twig from his hedge. "I pleaded with his mother to let me wash George's Ford Anglia. She thought I was nuts." But her slavish service earned her a letter from George Harrison, which gives humorous instructions on how to go about the task. The letter is now valued at between £600 and £ 800. 

    Now married with two children, Sue moved to Comrie with her Scots-born husband over two years ago when they decided to opt for village life. "Obviously, I'm selling the collection because I want the money. I think that's the reason everyone sells memorabilia, if they're honest. I'm hoping it will pay for a family holiday, perhaps to Disneyland. "

    Although she hadn't been in touch with George, Sue sent him a note at the time she arranged for the sale, enclosing a photograph of his mother. "I'm not expecting him to get in touch," she said. "But I did say, 'Wouldn't your Mum laugh to think of the stuff being worth money now?'"

     A spokesman for Christie said. Sue's collection also includes valuable archive material, photographs, autographed items, and a list of Harrison's record collection showing influence on his music