Autograph Hunting Led to a Chance Encounter with The Beatles…

My friends and I used to go autograph hunting between the City Hall and the Grand Hotel on a Saturday. I remember on that particular weekend I was feeling particularly cool in a mustard woollen swing coat with an integral scarf which had mock ocelot edges! I had a matching mustard pleather baker boy cap.

It was time to wander off home before coming back that evening to see the show. We wandered down the little street at the back of the Grand Hotel and heard people shouting to us from above. Looking up, we saw the four Beatles hanging out of a fourth floor? window.

We chatted to them for about ten minutes. They were very open, funny and friendly and seemed really excited. It was probably still novel and welcome to be screamed at and chased at that point.

When Helen Shapiro stuck her head out from a room below, she laughingly warned us not to go up to their room. There was a lot of banter about them inviting girls up, but we were much too young anyway, even if our mothers hadn’t threatened us. They all seemed to have a nice rapport.

They told us who was who because they were so new to us that we didn’t know at that point. I immediately fell for George and he always remained my favourite.

Please Please Me had just come out and Love Me Do had been a great success, so they were clearly excited and rising up the rankings.

I went home and told my Dad about them. He huffed and said he gave them six months, then everyone would have forgotten about them. My brother and I enjoyed taunting him with that for decades.

I remember as young fans we would buy each album on the day it came out and learn all the words. We were really upset when they left for the USA and couldn’t wait for them to come back.

I enjoyed going to their shows but was frankly disappointed that I couldn’t hear them for the screaming. In the end I thought, if you can’t beat them, join ’em, and joined in.

The Beatles were booked for the Azena shortly afterwards. It was a much smaller local venue that they had been booked for before their sudden success. My brother convinced my parents that I wasn’t old enough to go because he didn’t want me to cramp his style. That’s something I don’t let him forget either.

The Beatles were very much a part of my early teens. In those days a schoolgirl with a Saturday job could afford to see The Beatles, the Stones or anyone they wanted in a fairly intimate venue (eg The City Hall) on a weekly basis out of their shop-girl earnings. I’m appalled by the prices of tickets nowadays. Such a shame for music fans.

When I sat at the back of the stage watching the Stones a few months later, I was horrified by how ill Mick Jagger looked, trembling and shaking through his vocals. I was quite innocent and couldn’t work out what was wrong with him. He was lucky I didn’t send for an ambulance!