New York Night Life

 

The day after

 

August 2, 1971 

Afternoon Stroll

 July 15, 2011 

New York Pizza

 

So Long New York City

 

May 26, 1976 

Paul and Linda pack up and leave New York City -- ready to tackle the rest of the Wings Over America Tour 

The WABC All-American Award

 

Pictures Storm for Yoko and Her Mr. X (1981)

 I find this gossip article sort of interesting.  Yoko way overreacted at the photographer.  I understand seeing her out having lunch with a man 2 months after her husband was killed might look a little odd to some, but even widows are allowed to have lunch and laugh.  It was the day before her birthday.  All she had to say to the photographer was that she was having a birthday lunch with a friend and that she is handling grief the best she could.  I think her actions made things look worse than if she just played it as a friendly lunch.  Did she really expect to be out at the Tavern on the Green and NOT be seen?  

Pictures Storm for Yoko and Her Mr. X

By Paul Connew

Daily Record

February 17, 1981

    Yoko Ono was not amused when she was photographed with this mystery man yesterday. John Lennon's widow, normally ice-cool, blew her top and rushed 20 yards down the road at New York Central Park, demanding, "Give me your film. You've got no right to take my picture. People  will get the wrong impression."

     The row flared after Yoko and the dark-haired mystery man had laughed and chatted over a leisurely lunch at the fashionable Tavern on the Green in Central Park, not far from the Dakota apartment building, where Yoko lives and where her husband was killed by a crazed assassin's gun. 

    The handsome Mr. X rushed to Yoko's aid as she tried to grab freelance photographer Ted Leyson, 32. A crowd of astonished passersby gathered as Yoko demanded the film. Leyson, a Chinese-Hawaiian, refused. Later, Leyson said, "I've never been more scared in my life!"

     Meanwhile, the great Beatles reunion mystery deepened still further. Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney got together in a recording studio on the tiny Caribbean island of Montserrat, but widespread reports that George Harrison will soon fly out to join them to record a Lennon Memorial album were being denied last night. 

Press conference from a different angle

 

I Want To Hold Your Hand... (1965)

 I Want to Hold Your Hand

By Steve Nidetz

Hartford Courant

November 21, 1965

    Miss Gisa Kothe is not a teenager. In fact, she will never see 20 again, but almost any one of 20 million teenagers would have eagerly traded places with her that late summer afternoon when Paul McCartney, one of Britain's four famed mop top Beatles, took her hand and said to her, "Thanks so much, luv, for the wonderful flight." 

    The momentous moment happened at the end of TWA Flight 703 from London to New York. Miss Kothe, 21, from East Heartland had just spent seven and a half hours as a transatlantic hostess for the Rock and Roll idols of the teen set. The attractive girl was chosen for the flight for two reasons. She was Miss New York press photographer and Queen of the Forest Hills festival for 1961

     When she learned of her selection, she was terribly excited. "I took an extra uniform skirt and had my hair done," Miss Kothe said. Before the plane could take off from London's Heathrow Airport, the mop heads were shuttled aboard in secrecy. Miss Kothe's reaction when the Beatles stepped on board was one of surprise and excitement. Of McCartney, Ringo Starr, George Harrison, and John Lennon, the blue-eyed brunette said, "They were very reserved during the flight."

     Besides eating Chateau Briand lobster and cheese and crackers with wine (George's favorite), the fearless foursome occupied its time playing games (Paul won the navigation game), drinking champagne, and watching a movie. 

    Excitement on board the flight was provided by 20 teenagers who formed a Beatles fan club on the spot. Most of them were tense and nervous trying to catch a glimpse of the Beatles Miss Kothe said the airline staff was prepared for the teenage assault on the first class section and handed out photographs and autographed records. But seven and a half hours is a long time for a teenager to be satisfied with just a picture or a record, especially when the live stuff was around. Many young ladies tried to catch glimpses of the Beatles by peering over the partition separating first-class and coach passengers. However, the alternating screaming and swooning eventually subsided.

     But while the noise-making was going on in the coach department, the Beatles were very unconcerned. Miss Kothe said, "They were more typical than the typical first-class passenger."

     The five other first-class passengers included a college professor and his wife, who were returning from Saudi Arabia, and three businessmen, one of whom passed out cigars. The Beatles' manager, Brian Epstein, his secretary, Wendy Hanson, and two of the Beatles' road managers also occupied seats in the first class section.

     "Throughout the trip, John wore a pair of wild sunglasses that looked like mirrors." Miss Kothe said, "but when I asked to try them on, he said, 'No, I'm sorry. Maybe next time.'"

     When the plane was near New York, the secret landing instructions were opened, and it headed for runway 31 at Kennedy International Airport. By the time the plane stopped on the runway to let the Beatles off so they could avoid the crowds, many Beatles souvenirs had been collected. The pursuer on the flight took all the towels and silverware off the flight and was auctioning them off to teenagers the next day. 

    Miss Kothe said her rewards included an autographed picture, a record, and, of course, a handshake. "They were just being the Beatles," Miss Kothe said when it was all over. "I enjoyed the trip and I'd do it again." So would any female between the ages of 10 and 18.

NYC Arrival with the master tapes

 October 28, 1970

Two Days of Madness in 1968

 

Two Days of Madness in 1968 or How to have a nervous breakdown at the age of 15

By Robin Titone and Goldie Friende (Brooklyn, NY)

McCartney Lovers and Friends

1973

    It all began on an ordinary, dull day, when, while glancing through the local TV section of the newspaper, Robin came across the guest list for the upcoming Tonight Show: four words, John Lennon, Paul McCartney-- pandemonium. "But that's taped here!!"  Conclusion: John and Paul are coming to New York!

     First point, in case: We have to look good for them. After all, they may see us from 400 feet away, waving from the observation deck--crash diets and exercise programs. After 10 minutes of that, we were off to point 2.  Point two:  check out arrival time and  hotels. Unfortunately, we didn't get the hotel information, but we did find out the flight time of arrival, and that was enough for now. The plane was due in at 3:30 pm, so, of course, we were at good old JFK at 9:00 am. Great. No one was there. We would have them all to ourselves. Well, after five hours of sitting downstairs, self-assured and confident, we moseyed up to the observation deck to find what seemed to be 1000s of people crowding the rails. Where they all came from, God knows, but sure as hell, there they were, and we were in back of all of them.

    The plane was landing. We knew this because we heard someone up front say so, Now the decision where was  the best place to stand as thrones of people ran from side to side? The plane slowly taxied in. God, was this really it? It really was!  And after climbing over people and pushing our way through, we finally got to the front of the rails, only to see the plane change direction and watch the crowd change with it. By the time it stopped, we had a great view of 14 rows of people in front of us. The Screams started and the waving broke out, and there we were in back of the crowd.

     By now, Robin was standing on a boy's back, screaming and crying, and Goldie was somewhere on her knees, trying to crawl through. But alas, to no avail. When we finally met at the rail, there were no Beatles; we had missed them. While contemplating jumping off, Robin, the girl wonder, yelled, "Customs!" We ran like hell and made it just in time to see an entourage of people walking through. And lo and behold, Paul, he looked like a walking picture. Hysterics broke out. But where is John? We knew he was there, but couldn't see him at the time. His hair was longer and blonder than we had ever known, and we didn't recognize him!  They walked through a door downstairs and were out of sight.

     Everyone ran to meet them downstairs. Robin and another girl went running,  but wait, where's Goldie? She looked around at the surging mob. Where is she? Shit!  We're going to miss them! We had to find her first. We started calling her name. After a while, we had all the passengers and airport employees doing the same. Meanwhile, back under a bench up at customs, Goldie wakes up. We still haven't figured out whether she actually fainted or was just dazed. She finds herself alone after hearing a stranger calling her name. She gets herself oriented and catches up with her friends. Now we join the mob downstairs when the police decided to get into the act. Well, it seems Goldie was not satisfied with her first screw up. Now she decided to lose her sandal in the mob. There was no way to bend down, and so there we were kicking around for it. The cops are getting rough and pushing us back. In the midst of all the pleas from the fans, they couldn't realize that we were only pleading for a shoe, incredible as it may seem. 

    Well, in any case, John and Paul escaped. Goldie found her shoe, and we went home. The next day was May 12, the Carson taping. The NBC building is huge with several entrances. The same old mob was there, and to make a long story short, we missed them again. This time, we were determined with a few others. We managed to sneak backstage. We saw everybody except guess who. We saw Simon and Garfunkel, the Bee Gees, Soupy Sales, Tony Bennett, and nasty old Tallulah Bankhead, but no Paul or John. We hid in the bathroom for a while, but were soon kicked out. 

    We found out that WMCA was to play an interview with them that evening. We were still in the city and couldn't hear it. Robin called home and asked her mother to tape it. When she came home after a totally miserable day, Robin found one question and answer on her tape recorder. Her mother thought that was the entire interview! That was it, the straw that broke the camel's back. We just started crying, and Robin threw a tantrum. 

    For some reason, her mother felt sorry for us and agreed to call Mal Evans to see if he'd tell her where they were staying. He was very nice and understood what we were going through. Then they started talking about the problems of parenthood. He told her they'd be leaving the next day and that they were not at the St. Regis Hotel, as everyone thought; he couldn't provide more information.

     The next day, we did find their whereabouts. They were at Nat Wieses. The mob was there as usual, but this time, there was no escaping us. We had them cornered. After seven hours of waiting, with an occasional glimpse of Paul peeking out of the window, the limousine pulled up. It was 6pm. Flashes went off, and out they came. John was in his white suit, and Paul was in black. It was incredible. They were right there, no more than two feet away. Now, those of you who have been lucky enough to see them know that seeing a Beatle does funny things to a person. For example, it aids in the deterioration of the mind. Robin became very athletic in order to get a better look, jumping over a car using no hands. Goldie, standing right next to them, suddenly got temporary amnesia and could not think of their names. They were sitting in the car with the door open, and the idiot kept yelling, "Beatles! God bless you. I love you. Beatles!"  They kept nodding and smiling politely.

     Well, that was it. In two minutes, they had come and gone, and we somehow found our way back to the train station silently, not knowing how to digest what had just we've just been through.

Ready to Ram On

October 7, 1970 - New York City 
 

Life With The Beatles (Part 3) - Bewitched, Bothered, Besieged (1964)

 

Life with the Beatles

Bewitched, Bothered, Besieged

By George Harrison

Liverpool Echo

February 27, 1964

    With the sound of that wonderful Washington Coliseum audience's fantastic reception still making their ears tingle, Ringo put it this way, "I wanted it to go on and on. I could feel the screams going right through me."

    

     The Beatles rushed back to the hotel and changed into more formal clothes for the so called charity ball at the British Embassy. It wasn't really a ball in the accepted sense. Two or three times each year the ambassador's wife, Lady Ormsby-Gore (She is now Lady Harlieh, as her husband, Sir David Ormsby- Gore has since succeeded to the family title.) has arranged dance parties for the Embassy staff and their friends, British and American.

     As usual on this occasion, she charged only $5 (about £1 15s) a ticket, which included buffet and drinks.  And she devoted the proceeds to one of her favorite good causes, the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. The 200 tickets she had optimistically printed were snapped up immediately as they became available. A veteran member of the staff told me, as he looked at the packed dance floor. "We've never had such a crowd in all the years I've been here, not even for Sir Winston."

     As the night wore on, things became more merry than one would normally associate with a staid Embassy party, and many of the younger guests let their hair down. The Beatles found themselves constantly being cornered by dinner jacketed men and their evening gown wives demanding, rather than requesting autographs. John Lennon in an aside to me commented, "This lot must have big families. I've signed hundreds of autographs, but everyone says, 'oh, it's not for me. Of course,  I couldn't care less, old boy, but my children asked me to get you to sign. You know?'"

     Hemmed in at every turn by jostling men and women to such an extent that sometimes they could scarcely raise glasses to their lips, John, Paul, Ringo, and George took it all in good part, although once or twice, I detected signs of anger in John when he thought they were being pushed around too much. On each occasion, it was Ringo who stepped in quickly to act as peacemaker. Then he too became somewhat annoyed as one of the laughing guests milling around him suddenly produced a small pair of nail scissors and clipped off a bit of his hair at the back of his neck. 

    Since we have been back to England, I have noted that the foreign secretary in a house of commons replied to questions, has denied that this incident occurred. You have my word for it, Mr. Butler, it most certainly did! Several of us saw it. If you need any confirmation, just ask Ringo. 

    The Embassy party followed the excitement of the Coliseum left the boys tired out, and they slipped on next morning until drug out of their beds to make a quick trip around Washington's historic places for photographs to be taken. They had decided to return by train to New York, although the snow had ceased and the aircrafts were able to use Washington airport in the normal way. But as I knew, that February 12 was Abraham Lincoln's birthday celebrated by all New York schools closing. I thought I'd do better to fly on ahead of them to see what was happening in the city, where the boys were to perform two concerts in the evening at the famous Carnegie Hall.

     I arrived in New York about noon and made for our venerable Plaza Hotel. It was in  a state of siege. The biggest mob of teenage girls we had so far encountered surrounded it. A sergeant told me, "The kids started arriving just after sun up, and they've been pouring in ever since. It's a school holiday, of course, and that explains it."

     Reinforced police barricades confided most of the fans to the square opposite the Plaza's main entrance. Every window overlooking the Plaza entrance was filled with onlookers for this was New York's strangest free spectacle for years, and nobody wanted to miss it. 

    Then the news was announced on the radio that The Beatles were returning by train due to Pennsylvania Station at 4pm. This was the starting signal for a rush by hundreds of girls aboard busses for Penn Station. They were soon joined by more than 1000 others who had flocked back to the station from LaGuardia Airport, where they had been awaiting the boys expected arrival by plane. Railway officials flashed an emergency call for help to the city police, and 100 men, including mounted officers, were transferred at once to the rail terminal to deal with the situation which threatened to get completely out of hand when the Beatles train drew in.

     Every gate was closed bearing access to the platform. Bewildered passengers off incoming trains were shepherded by police to other exits, and all the time, the girls kept up an air splitting, high pitched shriek, which numbed your senses. The four targets for all this commotion were in a special coach at the rear of the Washington train, waiting the word that it would be safe for them to get out. 

    Paul told me later, "We could hear the yelling before the train even stopped. What a row!" At last, officials decided they could probably smuggle the lads out by way of another platform. The coach was  shunted off but the girls were not easily fooled. They spotted the ruse and dashed around to the new exit. Hefty policemen went down under the mad rush by something like 2,000 screaming kids intent on getting near their idols. John, Paul, George, and Ringo started running and  following the railway officials in a dash for a mail bag service entrance.

     With the mob chasing full pelt after them, they got through the gate, which was slammed behind them and locked,stopping the girls in their tracks. Hastily, the boys piled into two taxis that made a rendezvous en route to the hotel with their own hired limousine in which they finished the journey to the Plaza. Their arrival fired off the excited waiting youngsters into a surge through the barricades to reach the car. The sweating, heaving police just managed to hold on long enough for the Beatles to get a few seconds of grace and escape into the hotel before the crowd reached the entrance doors, which were promptly bolted. Inside the Plaza, security guards hired by the management, patrolled every quarter, winkling out kids who had sneaked through the blockade somehow or another. 

    And so we moved across the to historic Carnegie Hall, opening its doors for the first time in 75 years to the beat from Mercyside. The Beatles were smuggled out of the Plaza via the kitchen and an underground employee entrance leading to a quiet street unwatched by fans. The taxi whipped them to the stage door, taking by surprise the 2,000 girls and boys without tickets who were waiting at both ends of the street ready to pounce, expecting them to arrive in their black limousine. The girls gave the battered taxi no more than a glance and the boys were out of it and inside the stage door before they were spotted.

     The towering height of Carnegie Hall's vast, 5,000 seat auditorium, seen from the stage with the balconies rising way up until folks sitting there look like midgets, is a pretty overpowering sight. I know for I was sitting on the stage behind the Beatles who kept turning around to shout quaint comments in my direction throughout the show. A couple of 100 customers who had paid top price of around two guineas for the privilege were also occupying the stage seats. You can also add half a dozen of those inevitable police and security men. They were presumably on the spot, in case we got up to mischief.

     Somehow, out in the packed, huge hall, the Beat-chicks really had a ball. They yelled, they yah- hooed, they squealed. They hardly ever seemed to sit down, and they hung along the plush balconies, hand painted signs reading, "We Love You" and "Beatles stay forever". 

    An elderly Carnegie Hall official said to me, "Do your audiences in England behave like this when the Beatles appear?" I assured him that they did, and he shook his head, sighing, "Extraordinary, truly extraordinary! Never seen anything like it."

     Afterward, the promoter of the show, Theater Three productions, announced that they would offer the Beatles a return engagement in a Carnegie Hall next September. In the audience and enjoying all the excitement were such interesting people as Mrs. Nelson Rockefeller, wife of New York's millionaire governor, with her two children, film actress Lauren Bacall, and Sybil Burton, ex wife of actor Richard Burton.  She admitted  to being a Beatle fan from way back.

     After the show, Mrs. Rockefeller enthused, "It was one of the most extraordinary things I've ever seen. I loved it. They were marvelous." But women newspaper comments Inez Robb, who has a very big following for her syndicated articles, wasn't so happy. She wrote, "This nation, hard pressed on all sides, cannot long endure the squealing syndrome that seizes U.S. adolescents and the presence of the Beatles. Beatlemania, rather than the Beatles, must be destroyed, root and branch if we are to survive. The glassy eyed adenoidal girls always on the verge of knee jerk hysteria, who compromised the Beatles camp followers and television audience could not possibly be interested in this British chamber quartet. They were only interested in an excuse for lapsing into the squealing syndrome with its accompanying spastic movements. I refuse to have anything to do with a 'Stamp out the Beatles' movement. What is imperative is a project to stamp out American adolescence", she fumed.

Life with the Beatles Part 1 -- The Best Since Bob Hope! (1964)

 

In what could be included in my "strange but true" Beatles facts series -- there was a reporter for the Liverpool Echo who traveled to the United States with the Beatles and wrote articles for the newspaper about his experience, who just happened to be named George Harrison.   Now, what are the chances of that?  Sure, George is a common first name and Harrison is a common last name, but still -- what are the chances that a man named George Harrison who is from Liverpool was assigned to travel with and write about a band from Liverpool that has a lead guitarist with the exact same name!  

The reporter, George Harrison, wrote some excellent reports about his time with the Fab Four, and I will be sharing them over the next week.   I really love them because I am fascinated with the first U.S. visit, and any new nugget of information excites me. Mr. Harrison includes a few little items that were news to me.  

Life with the Beatles

The Best Since Bob Hope!

By George Harrison

Liverpool Echo

February 25, 1964

    Through the screams, squeals, and rhapsodies of adulation which greeted Liverpool's mop-haired ambassadors, those bouncing Beatles, wherever they appeared in the United States, there merged one quiet but so sincere welcome that to me is unforgettable. 

    It was a message from an American girl who wrote to the boys in Washington, the nation's capital. Because she had addressed it to Mr. George Harrison, Shoreham Hotel, Washington, DC, where I, too, was registered, the letter was placed among others in my rack, and I opened it. The girl had intended it for George Harrison of The Beatles, also staying that night at the Shoreham. And she wrote: "Thank you, Beatles, for bringing to this country of mine its first real happiness since November 22, when we went into mourning."

     It was on November 22 that President Kennedy had been assassinated. Somehow, that short, moving little note put a finger firmly upon one of the reasons for the fantastic success which the boys from Liverpool enjoyed in America for 10 weeks. Before their arrival, there had been that dark cloud of nationwide sadness, obliterating the sunshine.

     Restlessly, the youngsters of America waited for the cloud to lift or for some light to break through it. On December 26, after a whirlwind sales and publicity drive in New York, by Beatles manager Brian Epstein, 29, who coaxed Capitol Recording Company into launching the boys' British number one hit disc, "I Want to Hold Your Hand", that number was released in the United States. 

    It had been played here and there by American disc jockeys during the fortnight previous, for copies had been taken from England by Brian Epstein and given to the DJs for introduction purposes. Not until the day after Christmas, Boxing Day as we know it, is not a holiday in the States, did the recording reach the shops and stores. The moment it did, American youth, particularly the girls, welcomed it passionately as the relief for which they had been waiting so long, their first real happiness since November 22 .

    From then on, every news story from England about the Beatles was lapped up by the kids. Lapel badges exclaiming, "I love the Beatles" flooded the shops, and the girls bought them, and 10s of 1000s wearing them proudly.

     Within 48 hours of "I Want to Hold Your Hand" hitting the market, there wasn't a radio station in the country that was not firmly on the bandwagon of "Be with it. Be with The Beatles." Articles about the Liverpool quartet, how they began, what they were like, with pictures, appeared in every newspaper and magazine. In two weeks, "I Want to Hold Your Hand" had swept to number one in the United States record ratings. A week later, it topped 2,000,000 in sales. When I left New York with the Beatles last Friday night, it was on the way toward its fourth million, all in seven weeks. 

    Meanwhile, popular Ed Sullivan, shrewd American television showman and spotter of unusual acts likely to cause a fervor, had seen the light which was illuminating the faces of all the young folk of his country. He offered the Beatles a contract for three consecutive TV appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show. Brian Eptein agreed, provided the boys received top billing. It took Brian two days to get his way, but he did.

     Immediately, the booking was confirmed, and the newspapers had announced that "The Beatles are coming to America.!" That strange epidemic called Beatlemania crossed the Atlantic from England and hit the United States like a bomb. It was greater than the fever over Elvis Presley back in the 50s, and by comparison with it, Frank Sinatra's era of swooning fans resembled a Sunday afternoon picnic. 

    Britain had already experienced the force of this ecstatic affection for the cheerful Liverpool, foursome in a dozen cities. We weren't aware that cynical New York was still quite unprepared for it, despite the warning example of our country. 

    Yet before the plane carrying the Beatles party, including me, left London Airport on February 7 for New York we knew that Ed Sullivan had received more than 50,000 requests for seats for their first show on Sunday, February 9, although the television studio couldn't take more than 750.

    How did the boys react to the rather frightened prospects of taking on American audiences? Ringo Starr, whose dry humor enlivens in every situation -- somehow he comes out with a crack that can instantly lift any tension there may be among the lads-- said to me, "I can always go back to hairdressing if they kick us out."

     Then, looking across the aisle at Paul McCartney and George Harrison, he said with a grin, "What are you Tin Pan Alley merchants going to do?  Write operas?"

     They're a zany bunch to travel with, and you never know what's going to happen next with them. They take the mickey out of everybody and everything, but most of all, out of themselves and each other. There is a tremendous spirit of "All for one and one for all" among them.

     That's why the fearsome barrage of questions flung at them by American high-power pressmen never even singed their hair. What one couldn't answer, another one could. They take everything with a chuckle. Sure, they lose tempers once in a while, but never for long, I found.

     And so our great giant jet sailed serenely at 500 odd miles an hour across the ocean. Paul McCartney fell asleep. Ringo wandered around talking to other passengers. John Lennon and his enchanting young wife, Cynthia, sat together and dozed or talked quietly to themselves. They're obviously very much in love. 

    George Jr decided he felt scruffy as he hadn't shaved. He went to the toilet to freshen up. A few minutes later, the captain of the aircraft told us over the speakers, "We're going to run into slight turbulence. Will you please fasten your seat belts? " We did, and a good job too. For that slight turbulence, tossed the huge aircraft up and down like a yo-yo.  Out of the toilet emerged George, his face half covered with lather, a safety razor in hand.  "What the hell is happening?" He yelled, paler than usual. "I nearly cut my so and so head off in there!"  John Lennon said it wouldn't matter. "You could always use the other one you carry under your arm for haunting purposes."

     Brian Epstein sat quietly reading or talking with us during most of the six and a half hour flight. He was the only member of the entire party who had no doubts at all about the reception awaiting the Beatles in New York. He and I knew fully well that despite their quips and apparent ease, the boys were anxious deep down about their welcome. Even the hard-shelled Ringo had asked me in a quiet aside, "How do you think we'll go over there, George? They've got everything like, haven't they? Will they want us?"

     Brian Epstein had no such qualms. He told me with confidence, "You will see a welcome that will make your eyes pop. I bet the boys have never known anything like it. Just wait and judge for yourself." You could almost feel the tension mounting as the hostess on the plane announced that we would be landing in New York in 10 minutes. The other passengers in our first-class section, most of them American businessmen, had tried hard to set the Beatles at ease with the assurance that they would have a great time in the States. And I don't think one of them or the aircraft crew missed the opportunity of getting the autographs of the boys and their photographs, too.

     A millionaire from Philadelphia, returning from business in Paris, said to me, "These kids have no need to worry about the reception. They're the most natural bunch of born entertainers I've come across. They will go down big", then he chuckled. "I sure wish they were coming to Philly. My two teenage daughters would go like crazy. They will anyway, when I get home and tell them I've been with the Beatles. "

    The plane began to lose height over New York and started the long gliding descent to newly renamed John F Kennedy International Airport, which used to be called Idlewild. As it touched down and swung to taxi toward the airport center, Paul McCartney called out, "Fingers crossed, everybody those without fingers just wish." Then, from the window on my side of the aircraft, I could see them.  1000s of dark shadows outlined against the sky from the top airport concourse. The line, packed deep, ran right around the building. 

    John Lennon, sitting right behind me, saw them, too. "Wow!" He yelled, "Take a look at this lot. It looks like they want us here after all." He brought out his new camera and began shooting the waving, massed reception committee. We couldn't hear anything from outside, bar the noise of the motors, but we could see mouths open wide as the kids cheered and shouted their welcome.

 

    Below us, by the spot we were pulled into, there was a sea of cameramen from newsreels, television, and newspapers. The aircraft came to a standstill. Somebody said, "Please don't disembark until you have permission to do so." A door opened. Uniformed airport officials walked in, accompanied by police armed with guns and gloves. Paul said to me, "They look tough, don't they?" Before I could do more than nod, the cops produced bits of paper and were saying, "You boys, please give us your autographs". One of the policemen said, "yous," which is Brooklynese around New York. George Jr spotted it and cracked, but he's from the Pool.

     There was a jam of passengers inside as the folks outside tried to force their way in. Suddenly, the plane seemed full of cameramen. The police started hustling them off, saying, "Let the passengers out first, plenty of time for pictures." Howls of protest went up from the lens hawks who had managed to get a foothold, but somehow they were cleared. Then we waited until the rest of the passengers had got away.

    The Beatles had lost their nervousness when they saw the crowd awaiting them. Paul said to me, "Go on, George, get out first and pave the way. If they don't shoot you, we know we'll be okay." So I picked up my grip and emerged on top of the companion-way leading down the steps to the enclosure where the cameramen were standing. As I hit the sunlight, so the stupendous, ear-splitting, high-pitched scream of the youngsters hit me. It was like a great wave of sound crashing in from all directions. The kids knew the Beatles were coming, and they went to town with a yell that was heard by residents a mile away, I learned afterwards.

     Cynthia Lennon, the wife of John, slipped unnoticed down behind me. The lads came down the steps, and it was not really until that moment that New York realized just what it was going to face up to in the next week. While Liverpool's long-haired Beatles were guests at its most staid, luxurious, exclusive Plaza Hotel, where Fifth Avenue ends at Central Park and handsome cabs still ply for hire, a milling mass of 1000s hemmmed-back back behind wire and steel barricades by revolver-armed police screaming their heads off.

     While airport officials shepherded us through customs into a VIP lounge where 200 people had been waiting. Sweating policemen told me, "This is the worst, even worse than when Khruschev came or even Fidel Castro. They were bad enough for us, But this, -- this we never expected."

     Tears poured from the girls' eyes as they pleaded, "Let's just get near them enough to see them. We waited here for 10 hours." Two kids that I smuggled past a barrier with me reached a window and watched with glistening eyes as the Beatles got on to the floodlit stage to face their first American press and television conference. Just what the Americans expected to happen at that chaotic conference, I don't know.

     I stood at one side of the stage as the boys laughed their way through the series of questions, which they refused to take seriously. "Why don't you get your hair cut?"  "We just had it specially cut yesterday. You should have seen it before."  "Do you like what you've seen of America?"  "Yes, do you?"  "Do you think it's right that 1000s of children should play hooky from school just to be here to welcome you?"  "You mean they haven't been given a holiday today?"  So it went on with the newsmen and women who had obviously started off intending to give the Beatles their own particular taste of hell, slowly coming around to an admiration for them. 

    And when it was all over and we were safely in the plush luxury of the Plaza Hotel, John Lennon said to me, "Those press folks were marvelous. It was like playing to an audience who appreciated you, I reckon we'll do all right here."

     The comment of one of the New York newspaper writers was. "They're the best act we've had to interview since Bob Hope."

Paul with the Cutworms

 

Paul is chatting with this group, Cutworm, before the Bowery concert in New York earlier this year.  In the clip, you can hear them tell Paul that they have a Beatles cover worked up to perform, a George number.  Paul's guess is that they are doing "I Me Mine."  They inform him that the song is "I Need You."  

Mary in NYC

 

April 14, 1985

The French Connection

April 4, 1975

I love the fact that John is wearing that shirt when he was interviewed for a French television show. 
 

Captured in New York City

 

St. Patrick's Day Parade 1964

 

Paul's Surprise gigs

 

I was actually in New York City this past week -- but there was no way I could get to where tickets were being sold for the Paul surprise gigs in time to get any.  I was just there for the day of the first concert and had to move to my next job location by the time the next ones came around.  But it was so exciting for me to even be in the area