When They Were Boys

by Larry Kane

  While Ringo, from the early days until today, always seemed annoyed by the vagaries of celebrity and public life, Paul has always enjoyed contact with people. He seems to need the adoration, which is not uncommon in show business, and because he is Paul McCartney he enjoys the luxury of controlling information and situations. The real story on the firing of Pete Best has direct links to Paul, as you will soon read. The independence and power that Paul exhibited at the time of the group’s breakup showed him as territorial, and obsessed with taking appropriate credit. His desire for control over media content began early. It was difficult for me to penetrate his political or spiritual views during interviews, unlike with John and Ringo. But on one subject, he was forcefully outspoken. John always seemed to be the conscience of the group, but Paul took the lead in this particular case.

  It happened during the 1964 tour. I advised the Beatles in their Las Vegas hotel suite that their upcoming concert at the Gator Bowl football stadium in Jacksonville, Florida, was going to be racially segregated. Immediately it was Paul who stood up first and said, “Well, that’s rubbish. Tell them we are not going to play there if Negroes [the term used by many in the sixties] are seated separately.”

  John echoed, “No way.” And the rest followed. The Gator Bowl management balked at first, then acquiesced. The concert was not segregated—the first time that happened in the legendary stadium. Paul’s lead on this issue was emblematic of his affinity for artists held back because of race—a striking irony for a British lad who grew up in an atmosphere full of racial and religious prejudice.

  Before the Gator Bowl experience, it was Paul who encouraged the group’s embrace of Joe Ankrah and his magical all-black vocal group, the Chants. Watch an old video of the Chants, who began in Liverpool, and you will be enchanted by their demeanor, stage presence, and wonderful harmonies in the doo-wop style. Ankrah told me, “It was bad enough that the modern moods [racism] never gave a black group a chance, but if not for Paul and his friends, we would have never stayed together. . . . In fact, I think that meeting the Beatles changed the direction of my life.”

  Ankrah also makes it clear that, in a sea of intolerance, Paul and the Beatles stood out, and stood up for him and his bandmates.

  “They were very cool guys, and meeting them gave us a look at real opportunity.”

  The very week that the Beatles’ “Love Me Do” had made the charts in the UK, Ankrah gambled. It was October 12, 1962. The boys had just finished a concert at the Tower Ballroom in New Brighton, backing up the legendary Little Richard. A day earlier, Ankrah had arranged for a meeting with Little Richard at Liverpool’s Adelphi Hotel, once a bastion of hardened segregation. Ankrah, impressed with the American artist’s defiance in actually staying at the Adelphi, was in awe as the two conversed about music and racism and life in Britain. Little Richard invited Ankrah, as his guest, to the Tower Ballroom a night later. Ankrah made his way to the dressing room, where he met Little Richard and was approached by John Lennon.

  IT WAS AFTER THE SHOW, LARRY. I WAS WARMLY GREETED BY LITTLE RICHARD. THAT SEEMED TO IMPRESS LENNON, WHO ASKED ME IF I WAS AN ENTERTAINER. AND THAT’S WHEN THE OTHER [BEATLES] BAND MEMBERS CAME AROUND. I EXPLAINED TO THEM THAT I HAD A GROUP, BUT NO BAND . . . THAT MY MUSIC WAS A CAPPELLA. THEY SEEMED GENUINELY INTERESTED, ESPECIALLY JOHN AND PAUL. I WAS A BIT STUNNED WHEN PAUL INVITED ME TO THE CAVERN AT A LUNCHTIME SESSION AFTER THEY RETURNED FROM A HAMBURG GIG. LITTLE RICHARD SEEMED PLEASED. THIS WAS SERIOUS. IN FACT, PAUL EVEN WROTE A NOTE SECURING OUR ADMISSION TO THE CAVERN. HE SAID, “LET’S SEE WHAT YOU DO.”

  The following week the Chants, led by Ankrah, arrived at the Cavern at lunchtime. Fate would have it that they couldn’t get in until the time the crowd was pouring out.

  “I will never forget the smell of the place,” Ankrah says.

  THE CONDENSATION AND SWEAT, PERSPIRATION WAS STICKING TO THE WALLS. IT WAS OVERWHELMING, A HUMAN SMELL AND VERY CONFINING, BUT IT GOT VERY EXCITING, ESPECIALLY WHEN PAUL WAVED FOR US TO TAKE THE STAGE. WE SANG “THE DUKE OF EARL.” PAUL’S EYES LIT UP. GEORGE STOOD UP, JUST STARED, AND JOHN RAN OVER TO THE PIANO AND STARTED BACKING US UP. HE MISSED A FEW BEATS, BUT HONESTLY, WHO CARED? I DIDN’T KNOW THEM WELL, BUT I KNEW, SOMEHOW, THAT A BARRIER WAS CRUMBLING.

  The future of the Chants was still cloudy at that time, but history shows that Joe Ankrah and the Chants received a formal invitation to the City Hall celebration in 1964, Liverpool’s formal farewell to the boys. A token invitation in a time of change? Maybe. But it was a breakthrough, an unheard-of gesture, and it happened just two months before Paul led the way along with his bandmates to integrate the Gator Bowl in Jacksonville.

  It has always been fascinating that a young man surrounded by the postwar anti-Semitism and racial mores of Liverpool, a man so averse to controversy, would reach out so early in his career to strike very public blows against hatred.

  In one of our earliest interviews, I broached the subject of race to Paul McCartney.

  “What about the [racial] barriers being broken in the music business?” I asked.

  His answer was fascinating in its simplicity and reasoning. (It should be noted again that his use of the word “Negro” was commonly accepted at the time.)

  IN SOME OF THE WORST PLACES IN AMERICA, YOU GET NEGRO ENTERTAINERS MIXING IN WITH WHITE PEOPLE. ACTUALLY IT’S ALL STUPID BECAUSE I REALLY DON’T SEE ANY DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A NEGRO AND A WHITE PERSON. IT’S LIKE YOU GO TO THE SOUTH OF FRANCE AND YOU GET A LITTLE TAN. IF YOU GO DOWN INTO TUNISIA YOU GET A LITTLE BIT OF A DARKER TAN. IF YOU GO DOWN TO THE GOLD COAST OF AFRICA, YOU GET A VERY DARK TAN AND SUDDENLY YOU BECOME A NEGRO. THAT’S ALL . . . THEY HAVE A VERY DARK TAN AND NOBODY WOULD EVER THINK OF DISCRIMINATING AGAINST A MAN FROM FRANCE OR TUNISIA, BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT QUITE NEGROS. IT’S A FUNNY THING, BUT ONCE THEY BECOME NEGROS . . . THEN THE DISCRIMINATION COMES IN. JUST CAN’T SEE IT. IT’S ALL STUPID TO ME.

  He made the remarks with such innocence and sincerity, and it was both a rare and reasonable explanation.

  When it came to Joe Ankrah and the Chants, the young black group The Exciters, who opened for the Beatles at the Gator Bowl in 1964, and scores of other nonwhite entertainers along the way, Paul was truly color blind, and in the early to mid-sixties, that was not an ordinary characteristic in a world filled with hate and dissent.

  Paul was fully confident in his various stands against hatred. In addition to opening doors for Joe Ankrah as a teenager in Liverpool, he did the same for the young people, especially the talented singer Mary Hopkin, a few years later. He introduced me to Hopkin in the Beatles’ office in London in 1968, and played me the tape of her recording, “Those Were the Days.” Paul was more confident than even Mary that the song would be a success. It was truly amazing to me that such a young man would already be in the business of mentoring, whether it was helping to give a break to a black man facing barriers, or a young woman yearning for a break.

  Confidence was always a strong characteristic of Paul McCartney’s existence, even on the day of a meeting that would change his life.

  “The Meeting”

  The meeting was not set in concrete, but it wasn’t really accidental. Three people played a role. Ivan Vaughan was a mutual friend of John and Paul, and was hopeful the two would meet. Quarryman Pete Shotton advised John that the Woolton event was a good opportunity for the band. Both Shotton and Vaughan, along with Nigel Walley, the Quarrymen’s teenage manager, pushed John hard to talk to the pastor and secure the engagement for the band. Separately, Vaughn had urged Paul to go, as well. There are differing accounts of who the real catalyst was, but all three played a role. The “match-makers” were hopeful that something would happen, but it was really a situation of wait and see.

  Young Paul pedaled hard on his cycle journey to Woolton. In his heart, did he know what the day would bring? Do any of us know? One thing was certain—when he got there, his friend Ivan would take him to meet the leader of the band. It was a hot summer day in Liverpool, so the bicycle trip to
St. Peter’s Church in Woolton must have been strenuous. After all, Paul was out to impress. He was wearing a white sport coat and dark pants. He had been talking to his friends, including the official introducer, Ivan Vaughn, about his dream of getting into a band. Would John Lennon consider it? Although hindsight shows this meeting as monumental, to Paul, in the moment, it was just a chance to join a real band.

  Despite the myth and the glory of that first meeting, the reality is that Paul and John knew of each other before that meeting, albeit very little. The families had some contact, and John was aware, according to Tony Bramwell, of the death of Mary McCartney in late 1956. Within a year, both boys would have something tragic in common.

  The beautiful afternoon was marked by floats, fanfare, and music. The annual crowning of the Rose Queen was an important event in the Woolton neighborhood. So many accounts remain of the day, but none as descriptive as that of Julia Baird, John’s half-sister.

  THE ENTERTAINMENT BEGAN AT TWO P.M. WITH THE OPENING PROCESSION, WHICH ENTAILED ONE OR TWO WONDERFULLY FESTOONED LORRIES CRAWLING AT A SNAIL’S PACE THROUGH THE VILLAGE ON THEIR CEREMONIOUS WAY TO THE CHURCH FIELD. THE FIRST LORRY CARRIED THE ROSE QUEEN, SEATED ON HER THRONE, SURROUNDED BY HER RETINUE, ALL DRESSED IN PINK AND WHITE SATIN, SPORTING LONG RIBBONS AND HAND-MADE ROSES IN THEIR HAIR. THESE GIRLS HAD BEEN CHOSEN FROM THE SUNDAY SCHOOL GROUPS, ON THE BASIS OF AGE AND GOOD BEHAVIOR.

  THE FOLLOWING LORRY CARRIED VARIOUS ENTERTAINERS, INCLUDING THE QUARRYMEN. THE BOYS WERE UP THERE ON THE BACK OF THE MOVING LORRY, TRYING TO STAY UPRIGHT AND PLAY THEIR INSTRUMENTS AT THE SAME TIME. JOHN GAVE UP BATTLING WITH BALANCE AND SAT WITH HIS LEGS HANGING OVER THE EDGE, PLAYING HIS GUITAR AND SINGING. HE CONTINUED ALL THROUGH THE SLOW, SLOW JOURNEY AS THE LORRY PUTTERED ITS WAY ALONG. JACKIE AND I LEAPED ALONGSIDE THE LORRY, WITH OUR MOTHER LAUGHING AND WAVING AT JOHN, MAKING HIM LAUGH. HE SEEMED TO BE THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS REALLY TRYING TO PLAY AND WE WERE REALLY TRYING TO PUT HIM OFF!

  Baird does not mention her nemesis in life and in death, Aunt Mimi, although she, too, was present. Mimi arrived on the church grounds while John and the Quarrymen were performing in the afternoon. John, startled by the presence of the square-jawed and intense aunt, was nervous. He tried to beat the nerves by starting to sing the words, “Oh, Mimi. Oh, Mimi is coming down the path. . . . Oh, Mimi.” Mimi, some neighbors later recalled, was aghast at John’s outfit, especially the shocking jeans—skintight and all that. Not far away from Mimi was Paul, who watched intently as the Quarrymen entertained the crowd.

  Drummer Colin Hanton played at the legendary Rose Queen concert in the afternoon but was not there for the evening concert in the church hall when Paul was introduced to John by mutual friend Vaughn. But two weeks later, after Paul joined the Quarrymen, Hanton became very impressed with two aspects of the life of the fifteen-year-old.

  “Paul was a very nice young man, very well spoken,” Hanton recalls. “Paul was like a schoolboy, preppy, more refined, if you will. Yes, he was pretty much more middle class, or climbing up the ladder.”

  Although Paul would be forever known for his songwriting and vocal skills, Hanton remembers his work on the strings.

  I REMEMBER THAT HE WAS AN EXCELLENT GUITAR PLAYER. HE WAS A GOOD TALENT. THAT IS WHY HE IMPRESSED JOHN SO MUCH. THAT IS WHY JOHN THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO HAVE HIM IN THE GROUP. I DON’T REMEMBER HEARING HIS SINGING IN THOSE DAYS SO MUCH AS HIS GUITAR SKILLS. JOHN DIDN’T REALLY PLAY GUITAR SO WELL—HE DIDN’T PLAY CHORDS—HE STRUMMED IT IN MORE OF A BANJO STYLE. HE HADN’T LEARNED TO PLAY THE GUITAR PROPERLY AT THAT TIME. PAUL ALSO TAUGHT HIM HOW TO TUNE A GUITAR. HE WAS CHARMING WAY BEYOND HIS YEARS, AND VERY HELPFUL.

  Paul’s bicycle trip to the church included what appeared to be a mini-audition. His charm had already impressed John, but the turning point was his rendition, so electrifying, of a song cowritten by Richard Wayne Penniman, aka Little Richard. Yes, that same Little Richard idolized by Joe Ankrah and millions of Americans. It was “Long Tall Sally” and, coincidentally, it would become the final song in the Beatles’ dynamic set of their 1964 American concerts. I was amazed at Paul’s rhythm and energy on the song during those concerts, which began with John on the lead on another rock ’n’ roll giant, “Twist and Shout,” originally recorded by the Isley Brothers. It is fascinating that the two most prolific songwriters in recorded history opened and closed their historic North American concerts with two contemporary classics written by others. It was always unique that John and Paul were never afraid to shine the light on other top performers, but also an irony that, because of their knockdown stage performances, the Beatles were credited with making songs hits—Paul with “Long Tall Sally,” John with “Twist and Shout.”

  So, on the night of the meeting at the church, if Paul’s style, helpful nature, and embracing personality had already impacted on the always skeptical John Lennon, it was his version of “Long Tall Sally” later that did the trick.

  Hanton stayed with the band through late 1958, eventually being replaced, after alternating with a series of part-time drummers, by Pete Best. He continued with his studies, and had no regrets when John and Paul recruited Pete to take over. The master upholsterer, and obsessive football fan, remembers, “No, I wasn’t good at all. Very amateurish. I was the bottom of the pile. I really wasn’t very good at all. I think McCartney knew it. But he was too nice to say anything to me.”

  That humility is shared by most of the Quarrymen, especially Rod Davis, the banjo man, who has the distinction of saying he was actually replaced by Paul McCartney.

  Davis played at both concerts at the church, but amazingly, he missed “the moment.”

  “I must have gone for a pee. The vital moment in rock ’n’ roll history, and I went for a pee and missed it all, you see. . . . Paul remembers what happened because for him it was important. And he tells people [he] played either on Eric [Griffiths] or John’s guitar, that way, left-handed, and he had to play the chords upside down. That would be pretty amazing, but so is everything about the guy.

  “It was on the platform in a field outside the church hall. I missed it. A few weeks later, Paul was in, I was out,” the affable Davis remembers. “I didn’t know him well, but he made himself liked very quickly in the band. And John’s mum and Aunt Mimi seemed to really enjoy being around him.”

  So did Sam Leach. An active early promoter of the Beatles, Leach saw the Quarrymen playing at the Hamilton Club. As would happen many times in Merseyside events, fighting broke out on the floor. But that night something else happened—a first. The fighting stopped when the boys started playing. And Leach stopped in his tracks.

  “Couldn’t believe it, Larry. All of them—they all stopped fighting. It made me look a lot closer at the band,” Leach recalls. He was especially impressed with Paul and John. In a classic first meeting, Leach, a gregarious and personable man—a few years older than the band members—recalls following the boys to a dressing room that had been converted from a toilet, and how Paul lit the flame, mostly with his personality.

  SO, I’M IN THIS “DRESSING ROOM” AND I SAY TO THEM, “YOU WILL BE BIGGER THAN ELVIS.” THEY JUST STARE AT ME LIKE I’VE LOST MY MIND. JOHN LOOKED AT ME LIKE I WAS MENTAL. THERE WAS SILENCE. THEN PAUL GOT UP, SMILED THAT TOOTHY SMILE OF HIS, AND SAID, QUITE VIGOROUSLY, “YOU HAVE WORK FOR US, MR. LEACH?” JOHN’S EYES ROLLED. I ANSWERED, “YES,” AND IMMEDIATELY BOOKED THEM AT MY NEW PLACE, THE CASANOVA CLUB. PAUL WAS SHREWD. HE KNEW I WAS OPENING A NEW CLUB. HE TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THE MOMENT. HE BELIEVED IN THE GROUP.

  Paul was as savvy as a teenager could be.

  John’s sister Julia Baird remembers the early duets between John and Paul at her mother’s house, and Paul’s undaunted optimism. She recalls little of the reported petty jealousies between the boys, but Paul’s determination was clear and present. She says of Paul,

  HE WAS JUBILANT AND BUOYANT, HE PLAYED THE MAJOR ROLE IN BUTTRESSING JOHN, BUT HE WASN’T THE ONLY ONE INFLUENCING JOHN. THERE WAS ROD DAVIS. ROD LEFT THE BAND BECAUSE OF PAUL, BU
T ALSO BECAUSE HIS PARENTS PULLED HIM OUT TO GET READY FOR HIGHER EDUCATION. JOHN LOVED ROD. THERE WAS LATER STU SUTCLIFFE, WHOM JOHN LOVED. PAUL UNDERSTOOD THAT AND LET THAT FRIENDSHIP PLAY OUT. ALTHOUGH PAUL WAS PRESENT, HE STAYED AWAY FROM THAT AND FROM JOHN’S OBSESSION WITH CYNTHIA. IT WAS LIKE A LITTLE MÉNAGE À TROIS WITH CYNTHIA, STU, AND JOHN. PAUL WAS SMART; HE KNEW WHEN TO DISTANCE HIMSELF.

  Baird, younger than John, was smitten with his friends.

  “You can imagine what it was like when Jackie and my mother would watch them practice. Paul was handsome even then, and John was so determined. You had this feeling from the chemistry that something special was going to happen, and please don’t forget my mother’s role in being so present for that.”

  The observations Sam Leach had of the teenaged boys seems to put Paul in the leadership position, not John.

  EVEN WHEN WE WENT TO SHOWS, [PAUL] HAD THE IDEAS, MADE THE DECISIONS—ABOUT WHAT CLUBS TO PLAY IN, FOR EXAMPLE, NEW THINGS TO TRY ON STAGE. HE WAS THE IDEA MAN. JOHN WAS A BIT LAZY WHEN IT CAME TO DOING STUFF. PAUL [WROTE] “CAN’T BUY ME LOVE” ALL ON HIS OWN WITHOUT JOHN. . . . THEN JOHN CAME BACK WITH A REBUTTAL IN “YOU CAN’T DO THAT.” A RETALIATION, IF YOU WILL, TO PAUL. THE NEXT ONE WAS BY PAUL, “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER.” AN APOLOGY BY PAUL TO JOHN. AND SO ON—THEIR RELATIONSHIP GOT PRETTY TEMPESTUOUS.

  That recorded controversy could seem a stretch, but the fact is, the relationship was always on the edge, even in the beginning, the very beginning. Paul managed to test the limits of John’s patience, without blowing anything up at first. Eventually, of course—twelve years after they came together—their differences proved insurmountable and finally led, quite sadly, to the breakup of the Beatles.

  Rod Davis, who never had any real contact with Paul McCartney in the early days, did have an accidental encounter with him in the beach town of Brighton in the summer of 2005.

  I WAS THERE FOR [A] WINDSURFING [COMPETITION]. A FRIEND SAID, “I JUST SAW PAUL MCCARTNEY WALK BY WITH A BIG DOG.” AND I SAID, “YOU’RE JOKING.” AND HE SAID, “NO. . . .” SO I WALKED AROUND AND THERE HE WAS, TALKING TO THE OFFICIALS OF WINDSURFING—HE HAD A HOODIE ON AND A BIG SCRUFFY DOG. SO, THEY KNEW ME, AND SAID, “HEY, LOOK WHO THIS IS,” SO I WALKED OVER, SHOOK HANDS, AND HE SAID, “WHO ARE YOU, THEN?” AND I SAID, “I’M THE GUY YOU REPLACED IN THE QUARRYMEN IN 1957.” AND HE SAID, “GOOD GOD, THAT’S GOING BACK A BIT, ISN’T IT? WHAT HAPPENED? DID I ELBOW YOU ASIDE?” AND I SAID, “NO, IT WAS NO BIG DEAL.” AND I WAS A BANJO PLAYER, AND YOU CAN’T HAVE A BANJO IN A ROCK ’N’ ROLL BAND, AND IT WAS BECOMING MORE ROCK ’N’ ROLL. AND I SHOULD HAVE SAID AT THE TIME, BUT I DIDN’T THINK OF IT, “THEY WEREN’T GOING ANYWHERE, ANYWAY!” BUT I DIDN’T THINK OF IT AT THE TIME. AND HE SAID, “OH, YOU MUST’VE BEEN THERE IN THE PHOTOGRAPH ON THE STAGE [AT THE ROSE QUEEN CONCERT].” AND I SAID, “YEAH, I WAS STANDING BEHIND JOHN’S RIGHT SHOULDER. I’M IN THE PHOTOGRAPH.” SO WE CHATTED A BIT AND THEY WERE TRYING TO GET HIM TO PRESENT PRIZES FOR THE WINDSURFING, AND HE SAID, “I’M NOT GONNA BE THERE TOMORROW WHEN IT FINISHES,” BLAH BLAH BLAH, AND THE DOG GOT RESTLESS AND OFF HE WENT. SO THAT’S THE ONLY TIME I REMEMBER SPEAKING TO PAUL.