What started me on this track of writing all my stories down was the new deluxe boxed set of Wings Over America. That first tour took place right in the middle of the four year span in my life (1974-78) when I was among the privileged few who had Paul “in the flesh” touch their lives. Coincidentally, 37 years after those first NY shows and almost exactly to the day, my husband Bob and I got to see Paul open his 2013 Out There tour here in Orlando. That’s definitely one for the “all my life’s a circle” department. The WOA re-release and seeing him perform live after so many years (the last tour I saw was the Driving World Tour in 2002), have made me extremely nostalgic for days gone by. It also got me remembering the story of how it came to be that Paul gave us tickets to those two Wings concerts at Madison Square Garden.
As 1976 rolled around, my other three partners in crime and I had seen Paul (and Linda) many, many times in both London and New York.
As 1976 rolled around, my other three partners in crime and I had seen Paul (and Linda) many, many times in both London and New York.
In front of Paul's house in London, May 1975. He's holding an envelope containing pictures we gave them, and Linda (eyes crossed) is holding a 5x7 print of all of us at JFK when we surprised them the previous Christmas (see below)
Now let me say here, we were not Linda's biggest fans, to put it kindly. Of course we never let on about that around them, and in fact we always went out of our way to specifically say hello to Linda, but despite Paul being warm and friendly around us, she mostly gave us the cold shoulder. We were the foursome that Paul recognized in a crowd, and as he had done in London years before, he would make a point of coming over to where we stood to say a personal hello and ask how we were doing or make quick small talk. And truthfully that was all we ever wanted and hoped for, the opportunity just to talk to him, to have those moments of normalcy with him. We were not "groupies" in any kind of sexual sense, but we did put in a lot of hours just waiting around for those fleeting moments of recognition. Maybe Linda didn't like the particular attention that Paul paid to us, maybe she thought we were some sort of threat to her (we were not), I don't know. There were days when clearly she was in the mood to smile and tolerate us, but mostly she would detach herself from Paul's arm and go directly into the lobby or the car, leaving him to catch up.
We were very aware that we were an extremely special club that had no other members, and we were happy to keep it that way. We had also come to develop a bit of a mysterious persona with Paul, as we always managed to show up wherever he was, and he could not figure out how we knew in advance. We popped up at the airport (JFK) to meet their arriving flights and send them off for their departures, we were at Lee Eastman's apartment (Linda's father) when they pulled up in a taxi, we were outside the Stanhope when they were checking in. As another example, we had become great friends with everyone at the family run luncheonette we went to every Saturday. They knew all about us and our adventures with Paul, and of course we all shared the common experience of having been touched by a Beatle. The staff told us that on a return trip for lunch one day the year before, Paul sat in a booth in the back. As he looked over his shoulder at the owner's family pictures taped to the side of the bakery cabinet, he was surprised to see our pics with him hanging there as well. Again it seemed we popped up everywhere and he was always one step behind us. Although this had been going on for several years already, we still had him shaking his head. It truly bothered him that he couldn't figure out how we did it. It became a running joke between us, with him repeatedly asking "But how did you know?" every time he saw us. Our response was always that we were psychic and.... just.... knew.
We were very aware that we were an extremely special club that had no other members, and we were happy to keep it that way. We had also come to develop a bit of a mysterious persona with Paul, as we always managed to show up wherever he was, and he could not figure out how we knew in advance. We popped up at the airport (JFK) to meet their arriving flights and send them off for their departures, we were at Lee Eastman's apartment (Linda's father) when they pulled up in a taxi, we were outside the Stanhope when they were checking in. As another example, we had become great friends with everyone at the family run luncheonette we went to every Saturday. They knew all about us and our adventures with Paul, and of course we all shared the common experience of having been touched by a Beatle. The staff told us that on a return trip for lunch one day the year before, Paul sat in a booth in the back. As he looked over his shoulder at the owner's family pictures taped to the side of the bakery cabinet, he was surprised to see our pics with him hanging there as well. Again it seemed we popped up everywhere and he was always one step behind us. Although this had been going on for several years already, we still had him shaking his head. It truly bothered him that he couldn't figure out how we did it. It became a running joke between us, with him repeatedly asking "But how did you know?" every time he saw us. Our response was always that we were psychic and.... just.... knew.
The truth was, we had a very extensive network of "assistants" who in turn would speak to someone - some reservationist, some member of the family, some worker bee - who would spill the beans. We could always, always rely on the fact that someone, somewhere along the chain couldn't contain themselves. In those years, Paul & Linda often stayed at the Eastman's on the Upper East Side, and it was only a short walk from there to the Stanhope, so they were usually in one place or the other. We had spies at both those locations, as well as several other hot spots (the luncheonette was one), who would tell us when they had inside information of an imminent arrival. Our informants enjoyed seeing us with P&L and were happy to be part of the fun. Even those folks could see that our little quartet was unique, and it was something special when he saw us.
Meeting them at the airport was a bit more of a challenge, but one we conquered regularly. At a time when the world was a very different place, it was possible to just call an airline and get reservation information (complete with names of the travelers and times of the flights) by just asking a few questions. So it was that one of us (usually me, because the others were too nervous and I had no fear) would call the big three - TWA, British Airways and PanAm - and ask to confirm a reservation for the last name McCartney. Occasionally they would use an alias, and yet we would still uncover the ruse and confuse him even further. We gathered an awful lot of information before they had even packed a bag.
Meeting them at the airport was a bit more of a challenge, but one we conquered regularly. At a time when the world was a very different place, it was possible to just call an airline and get reservation information (complete with names of the travelers and times of the flights) by just asking a few questions. So it was that one of us (usually me, because the others were too nervous and I had no fear) would call the big three - TWA, British Airways and PanAm - and ask to confirm a reservation for the last name McCartney. Occasionally they would use an alias, and yet we would still uncover the ruse and confuse him even further. We gathered an awful lot of information before they had even packed a bag.
(TWA?) VIP lounge, JFK Airport - December, 1974 - Back Row: Heather, Linda, Paul, Evy, JoAnn & Me / Front Row: Stella, Mary & Linda
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