10 Years Ago the Beatles Last Show (1976)

 10 Years Ago the Beatles Last Show

By Phillip Elwood

The San Francisco Examiner

August 30, 1976

    Beatlemania seems to be sweeping the pop music world again, as it did a decade ago. Capitol Records is repackaging the original issues of Beatles singles and albums, and an International organization has been formed to encourage the Beatles to get together once again in public performance.

     10 years ago, the Beatles concluded their U.S. tour, which included 19 shows in 14 cities, with a performance at Candlestick Park. The concert, on the evening of Monday, August 29, 1966, lasted 30 minutes, included 11 tunes, and ended at 9:50 p.m. That was the last time the Beatles appeared together in public performance. 

    The Beatles had played San Francisco twice before, 1964 and in 1965, at the Cow Palace. The evening show in '65 set a record there, which still stands, for over 18,000 customers for a reserved-seat concert. 

    Early in June 1966, it was announced that promoter Tom Donahue, in conjunction with station KYA, and using DJ Johnny Holliday and Emperor Gene Nelson as MCs, would present the Beatles at Candlestick with tickets at $6, $5, and $4. A total of 30,000 seats were ticketed, but the event didn't sell out. About 25,000 customers paid a gross of some $130,000.

     The Beatles arrived by plane late in the afternoon. They were sealed up in an armored truck and driven to Candlestick, where they arrived at 5:45 p.m. The San Francisco police provided a station wagon and a couple of motorcycles for an escort. The caravan also included a bus and a few limousines for the supporting acts and equipment.

     After cruising around the stadium parking lot, waiting for an attendant to find the gate key, the caravan finally went through the right center field gate, and the Beatles disembarked and walked directly into the dressing room clubhouse area used by the San Francisco Giants. By 6o'clock, the fans were also arriving. They found most of the stadium lights illuminated, as they were for the whole show; spotlights were also used to pinpoint featured performers. The stage was built over second base. The closest any fans got was about 150 feet, and those in the second deck, the "cheap seats", could barely see the platform and often could not hear anything. 

    The Boston rock group The Remains opened the program with four numbers and was followed by Bobby Hebb, who also did four selections ending with "Sunny," his big hit for the summer of '66. Holiday was MC at the beginning, as I remember, filling the brief space between acts. The pace was fast. The performers were anxious to get the tour over with, and the crowd, very young and agitated, was there only for the Beatles. Two piles of loudspeakers flanked the stage. No one, except a few guards, was allowed on the stadium grass or infield. Artists came to the stage by walking from the Giants' dugout area across first base and eventually to the stage stairs. After Hebb, the Brian Epstein-managed group Cyrkle played five numbers, including "Red Rubber Ball," which had been a big hit in the spring of 1966, and "Turn Down Day," which soon became a hit. Following Cyrkle, with the crowd screaming every time any head stuck out of the dugout entrance, the Ronettes, a first-rate soul rock group, trudged through the grass (there was no plastic turf then) and onto the stage. 

    I remember thinking, with amusement, how strange the three black Ronettes seemed in shimmering nightclub gowns, singing "Be My Baby" and "Walking in the Rain" to 25,000 Beatles fans, most of whom were bubblegum teeny boppers about 14 years old. The gutsy, sensual Ronette's lyrics didn't have much effect, however, since the crowd noise, anticipating the Beatles, was horrendous by this time. 

    All 19 tunes performed by the opening four acts, plus the on-track comments by Holliday and his colleague Nelson, absorbed only 70 minutes. Without any intermission, and barely time enough for the Ronnetts to leave the field, the four Beatles raced across the turf and onto the stage. The crowd's response was deafening. It was as if Willie Mays had just homered into the left-field bleachers to win the World Series.

    The Beatles' performance began with "Rock and Roll Music," and then the tunes ground out one by one mechanically and with little distinction. I recall no informal comments from any of the Beatles during the program. Paul handled the introductions.

     Although the Revolver album had been issued three weeks earlier and was on top of the charts, the Beatles did none of the tunes from it. Even "Yellow Submarine", the hit single that week, was not played. "I Want to Hold Your Hand," "Eight Days a Week," "Day Tripper," "Paperback Writer," "Yesterday," and finally "Long Tall Sally" were included. So fast was the performance, and so brief the interval between tunes, the noisy reception given at the end of each number spilled into the roar, which obliterated the first 30 seconds of each new selection. As "Long Tall Sally" was ending, a young lady raced toward the stage front with guards in hot pursuit. As the fans watched her attempt to climb the platform, many didn't notice the armored truck, which had been sitting innocently at the rear of the stage, had thrown open its back doors.

     The four Beatles had hopped from instruments to stairs, to vehicle, and within one minute of concluding the song, the Beatles inside the truck were out of the center field gate onto a service field and heading toward the San Francisco airport. The Beatles were heading finally for England. Their last public concert appearance was over. 

    My review in the Examiner the next day was headed "Beatles Strike Out at Ballpark." Ralph Gleason's Chronicle column was headed "A Puppet Show for the Beatles." There was no press conference here, as there had been in Chicago, New York, and Los Angeles. Beatle John Lennon's comments about religion and the Vietnam War, and a sour attitude toward the Beatles by the U.S. entertainment establishment, had made relations with the press difficult.

     The San Francisco City Treasury netted $17,500 from ticket sales, and the local musicians union was paid $1,072 for providing 25 standby musicians who sat in the stands and played the Star-Spangled Banner at 8p.m. At the time, the evening seemed just like another disappointing rock and roll concert. Certainly not as much fun as the earlier Beatles shows in town. Little did those 25,000 San Franciscoans realize they were seeing the most successful and influential pop music group in history perform together for the final time.