Solemn Beatles Respond to Silly Press Questions (Washington D.C. 1966)

 

Solemn BEatles Respond to Silly Questions

By Muriel Dobbin

The Baltimore Sun

August 16, 1966

Solemn Beatles Respond to Silly Press Questions

By Muriel Dobbin

The Baltimore Sun

August 16, 1966

Washington, August 15. 

    There were Beatles in the locker room of the Washington Senators tonight. Beatles in polka dots and velvet, long-haired and straight-faced, were giving solemn answers to silly questions. The Beatles' press conference at the D.C. Stadium sounded like an attempt on the part of the mop-haired rock and rollers to soften the American impact of the remarks made by one of the quartets, suggesting that their popularity exceeded that of Jesus Christ.

     The offending Beatle, an apparently inoffensive man called John Lennon, was subdued tonight before a group of alleged reporters who behaved like a Beatles fan club. Lennon was even conservatively clad in a brown sports coat compared with the purple polka dots of Ringo and the canary yellow of Paul, sitting in the locker room with the temperature of both their surroundings and the screaming faithful outside rising.

    The Beatles conducted themselves with more sobriety than the occasion demanded. The first question involved reincarnation. "In what form would the Beatles like to return to this world? "  "A tree," said velvet-coated Ringo. "Did they feel that Lennon's comments about Christ versus the Beatles had affected crowd attendance, which is said to have diminished on their present American tour?"  "The crowds are big enough for me," said Lennon, carefully adding that he was concerned because so many people were upset by his remarks. He had recently explained apologetically that he did not mean what people thought he meant. 

    "What did they think of British Prime Minister Wilson's stabilization policy which involved wage-price freezes?"  "Not much," said the Beatles unanimously. They were asked about a magazine interpretation that one of their songs was sinister. "The song means exactly what it says," said a Beatle patiently. "Nothing." What would happen to them when they stop being Beatles? "We will just be four people, "they said. 

    After 18 minutes, the press conference was over, and the Beatles went to face what was estimated to be 30,000 quivering fans, including four girls who had baked them a cake. A man selling Beatles pendants and buttons was pessimistic about the future of the group with whom he had been traveling on their current visit. "We're dying," he said. It was reported that around 400 police were assigned to maintain order at the Beatles' performance, but one large policeman took time out to find a taxi cab, into which he thrust a sullen teenager. "Take my daughter home," he told the driver.

Casey's World of Sports (Cleveland 1966)

 

Casey's World of Sport

By Terry Casey

The Tribune (Ohio)

August 15, 1966

    The Beatles came to Ohio's largest city, and many probably wish they would never heard of the famed singing group. The performance started out in a peaceful manner with four other groups taking the stage, located on second base in the ball field. Most of those who came were interested in only one thing, and that was seeing and hearing the famed mop-haired foursome.

     The Beatles came into the park by a speeding police escort, and then waited in a heavily guarded trailer in the center of the field till their time came to perform. Many kids were so anxious that the trailer door would bring screams. As you could guess, when the English group came on, the cavernous stadium echoed with screams and cheers. 

    During the singing of the Beatles' first song, it appeared that the crowd would act in a fairly safe and refined way, if there is much of a refined way at a Beatles concert. The second song started, and then a few started drifting down the aisle to the lower stands, hoping to get a better view; then more came. At first, a few, then more jumped over the short wall separating the stands from the field. They then were out on the running track around the field with the heavy snow fence, and police officers trying to hold the anxious youngsters back from their idols, who were more than 150 feet away.

     At first, one or two tried jumping over the fence. Then, in an instant, the fence was overrun in several places. On the field were 6,000 screaming teenagers running to the center, trying to get closer to their favorite singing group. It was mob control with police being left completely helpless. When they got on the field, several fanatics tried to climb onto the seven-foot stage, with police surrounding the group on stage. Even though the Beatles were in definite danger from the mob, they finished the song and seemingly didn't notice the confusion. Ringo Starr was dragged from his drums by a fan with police, then moved the Beatles back into their trailer. 

    Those on the field had a choice of moving back or having the concert canceled. They moved back with over 30 minutes required to return things to normal. When the Beatles were doing their final song, many ran to the ramp where the Beatles came in. The kids were tricked as the black limousine sped out the other ramp. 

    In keeping with the fact that this is a sports column, it should be noted that the most disgruntled man in the stadium was Harold Bossard. Mr. Bossard is in charge of keeping the grass green at the stadium. And after the 6000 kids went trampling over the wet diamond, all the grass was killed. On the field were shoes, sandals, sunglasses, purses, and confetti. The riot that the Beatles caused will require the complete reseeding of the infield at the cost of $5,000, and it nearly forced the cancellation of tonight's game. 

    The force of the mob was so great that steel pipes were bent to the ground. After the mob had gone back to their seats, a policeman was asking if he would prefer working at a Beatles concert or in the Hough area during the race riots. He scratched his head and replied, "I don't know."

14,000 Screams Prove Beatles Are Still Loved (Detroit 1966)

 

14,000 Scream Prove Beatles Are Still Loved

By Lawrence Gustin

The Flint Journal (Michigan)

August 14, 1966

    Take 14,000 youngsters, give them flash cameras and bags of jelly beans, then pack them all into Olympia Stadium for two hours while the tension grows. Now, all together, kids, throw those jelly beans, flash those cameras, and scream your lungs out. If you can picture this, you get an idea of what happens at a performance of the Beatles. 

    More than 30,000 fans, most of them young girls with long straight hair, demonstrated Saturday during two shows that they still loved the long-haired Englishman. There was little evidence of any hostility stemming from Beatle John Lennon's well-publicized statement that they were more popular than Jesus. Just to make sure, the master of ceremonies told the crowd that Lennon felt his statement had been taken out of context, and that what he really meant was to say it's a very sad state of affairs that the Beatles seem more popular than Christianity. There were loud screams of approval, and signs were unfurled by the youngsters. They bore such catchy phrases as "I love you, John" and "I love you, Paul." One group displayed a large Union Jack. 

    At least one girl in the audience was well prepared. "I just know I'm going to faint, so I brought along my smelling salt," she said.

     The Beatles have toured this country four times; although their first visit was short, this was only the second visit to Detroit. However, there were about 2000 empty seats for the 2p.m. performance, but there were still about 14,000 young fans present, and a sellout crowd of more than 16,000 for the 7p.m. performance. And when you're selling seats for between $3.50 and $5.50, that's a great house by any standard. 

    Very few persons got close to the young entertainers between their arrival at Olympia at about noon and their departure by bus for Cleveland after the night show. They were closeted in a room at the end of a corridor, which was blocked by barricades, curtains, and at least a regiment of police. Only a few reporters and the young presidents of a few fan clubs were allowed through.

     For two hours during the matinee, the youngsters practiced their screams on lesser-known rock and roll performers. During the interim, the group's press agent Tony Morrow [sic] and manager Brian Epstein provided interviews. Morrow said the Beatles still definitely planned to go to Memphis, which strongly indicated through its mayor that it would appreciate being bypassed. 

    This was a reaction to John's statement about Christ, but the Beatles have apparently been successful in denying that any irreverence was meant. They landed in Boston, put on their first show in Chicago Friday, and were to hit these cities before returning to England on August 29: Cleveland, Washington, Philadelphia, Toronto, Boston, Memphis, Cincinnati, St. Louis, New York, Seattle, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. 

    The police suddenly formed a line to the stage, and Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr ran to the stage. There was bedlam as the stadium lighted up in a burst of flash bulbs, giving the flickering impression of a silent movie. Jelly beans, hair brushes, photographs, dolls, and even records bounced onto the stage and onto the heads of police and photographers.  The four could be heard if you were within a few feet of the stage, but most of the youngsters could hear little but screams.

     For 30 minutes, the Beatles sang, smiled, sweated, wiggled their heads, and fancy stepped around the jelly beans. Then Paul announced that the next number would be their last, and this was greeted by a new shock wave of screams. The police were packed tightly around the stage as the Beatles let loose with "Long Tall Sally." It seemed that the show would end without a major incident, but not quite. Suddenly, a young blonde girl in orange slacks and sweater bounded over the wall, flashed between the startled police and made a dive at Ringo on the drummer's platform. She almost made it, but crashed into the amphitheater several feet from the drummer and went sprawling. She was hauled away fighting and screaming by four officers and taken outside. 

    A group of 20 Cleveland teenagers who won a trip to see the Beatles at each of their stops on the U.S. tour said the Detroit crowd was wilder than the Chicago crowd. One girl dislocated a knee crawling over a railing. There were 10 cases of hysteria. A girl passed out. Another passed out twice. A doctor said it was quieter than in 1964 when 45 girls fainted. Then there was this memory of a jaded veteran photographer who had griped earlier about the long wait. "They're good. They're really good," he shouted to anyone who would listen after the show. "I really like them."

Glasses fix

 

Howie's sax

 

George on the phone

Photo taken by Dee Ellias 

 August 14, 1966 -  George on the phone at the Sheraton Cleveland Hotel 

Backstage in Detroit

 

August 13, 1966 - Detroit, Michigan 

Last Day in the UK

July 12, 1971 
 

A happy lovely family

 August 12, 1986 - Heathrow Airport 

13,000 Beatles Fans Scream Adulation (1966)

 

13,000 Beatles Fans Scream Adulation to Prophets of Din

By Thomas Willis

Chicago Tribune

August 13, 1966

    "Prepare yourselves", said the bass voice behind us, and there in the flesh were the prophets of den, something like 13,000 treble voices sliced the echoing International Amphitheater yesterday afternoon with a knifing scream, which instantly passed the aureole threshold of pain.

     Flash bulbs from 1,000 cameras stabbed the dark hall with continuous lightning. Paul, John, and George half-ran down the curtained stairs at the rear of the small stage, crowded with the giant speaker cabinets and winking electronic gear of a 1500-watt amplifying system. Ringo clambered to the drummer's throne at the rear. The Beatles had arrived.

     The infernal shriek continued practically unabated for the 27 minutes allotted to the ensemble, swirling in the ear and setting off those internal harmonic rings, which last and last. Now and then the nerves rebelled and reduced it all to a jumble of wind, letting it whistle by. The amplifiers contributed a harmony or two, which could be recognized "Yesterday,"  "Paperback Writer," "Rock and Roll Music", in a voice which could be identified with the lips of the performers on stage. 

    This was all the vast majority of participants and the tribal rite required. Tributes, cigarette butts, paper balls, popcorn bags, and possibly a jelly bean or two landed on the stage with one narrow miss on a Beatle's head; favored with a notice, young admirers in the front rows sobbed their gratitude. Farther back in the audience, the merest wave in any direction set off renewed waves of adulation. Affected girls bobbed up like popping corn, only to be motioned to their seats by one of the 200 Andy Frain ushers holding flashlights.

     The quartet, smartly dressed in green, went on with the show even when the amplifier, overloaded with screams, gave out, leaving Ringo Starr's drum solo practically unaccompanied. John Lennon flashed his cheesecake smile at a photographer and tried a Hindu neck trick or two. Paul McCartney said it was "good to be back" and "thank you" to everyone. George Harrison spent much of the time getting his guitar, at least, turned on. 

    The rest of the afternoon was given over to the Remains, who worked hard keeping things moving. The Ronettes, three girls who must sing better than their amateurish presence indicates. Bobby Hebb, a razzle dazzle imitation of Sammy Davis Jr., and the Cyrcles, a pleasant boyish quartet who are not above singing four-part harmony.

     In the audience was Seiji Ozawa, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra summer conductor at Ravinia. It is just possible his ears may stop ringing before tonight's Van Cliburn reception. 

    In this observer's opinion, the Beatles have made notable contributions to folk poetry with their gentle, psychologically valid lyrics and their adventurous use of instruments that place them in a different league from the rest of a gimmick-ridden industry. As a gesture of thanks, perhaps attendance at a concert is in order. Once, though, is enough. 

    The Frain ushers were assisted by 105 policemen under the direction of Captain Leo Powers of Area Three and 200 firemen under the direction of Division Marshal Francis Murphy. Looking over the crowd of neatly dressed, well-behaved youngsters before the concert, it was hard to see the necessity for such precautions. After the banshee yell began, we understood.

     Gross take for the two concerts was reported at $136,000. The Beatles will leave early today for Detroit. Next stop on their 18-day tour, which includes Cleveland, Washington, Philadelphia, Toronto, Boston, Memphis, Cincinnati, St. Louis, New York, Seattle, and Los Angeles, winding up in San Francisco on August 29.