Beatlemania comes to York

Given the grim world situation, it must have come as something of a relief for York to focus its attention on the impending arrival of the Fab Four.

In one sense, it wasn't that big a deal. The group had already played in the city three times that year. Their first appearance was on February 27: they were booked as a support for Helen Shapiro, but she didn't appear because of illness.

Less than a month later, on March 13, they were back, on the bill for the Chris Montez and Tommy Roe tour.

Their increasing popularity meant that, by May 29, they headed the bill alongside Roy Orbison.

But as the year progressed John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr were no longer merely popular. Something had happened to take them to another level: Beatlemania.

Not everyone was enamoured of this phenomenon."Many young people these days complain that adults tend to condemn them. But when one sees the disgusting behaviour now occurring up and down the country under the name of 'Beatle-mania', it is impossible not to draw certain conclusions."

So wrote a reader of the Evening Press, signing themselves "Observer", in a letter published on November 6, 1963.

This brought this sparky response from self-described Beatle maniac Wendy Leathley of Haxby. "You need help 'Observer'," she wrote.

"Are you really livin' man? You just ain't in the groove. Go man, go wild - do anything, but get off that dead pad, Wo! Wo! and relieve your frustrated inhibitions, Yeh! Yeh! Yeh!"

It seemed the Liverpool quartet were dividing the generations. But the Evening Press was firmly in the pro camp.

"Only four more days to the Beatles," a headline announced above the legendary reporter Stacey Brewer's showbusiness column on November 23.

"Yes, there are only four days to go before the most dynamic night of 'pop' entertainment that York has ever experienced.

"That night, York's Mecca-Casino will really be a "mecca" for fans who have made The Beatles Britain's number one attraction.

"Since that magic moment some ten weeks ago, when the nation erupted into a free-for-all called Beatle-mania, the whole pattern of the country's entertainment business has been turned upside down."

A York shop, he reported, had embroidered The Beatles on a pillow case, put it on display, and had a constant group of schoolgirls pressing their noses to the window. Another city shop, on hearing the news that the group's favourite sweets were jelly babies, was selling "jelly Beatles".

Their new-found stardom left Stacey a little wistful. "Last time they were in York, Paul McCartney and George Harrison were able to sit with me in the empty theatre after the show and talk into the small hours about showbusiness, their hopes and plans.

"There'll be no opportunity for relaxing like that this time."

Supporting the Beatles at the York concert were the Brook Brothers, "Britain's answer to the Everly Brothers"; Peter Jay and the Jaywalkers; Liverpool trio The Vernon Girls; and the Kestrels. But there was no doubt who all the lucky 1,800 ticket holders had come to see, and it wasn't compere Frank Berry.

This hysteria meant that hosting the Beatles was no simple matter. Plans had to be made, the city prepared.

All police leave was cancelled. Altogether 100 policemen, including most of the special constables, were on duty. The St John Ambulance drafted in extra volunteers to deal with the number of girls expected to faint during the Beatles' performance.

Throughout their tour, large crowds had gathered outside the venues as people strove to catch a glimpse of the musicians. But Chief Constable Cyril Carter didn't expect much nonsense: "We expect the young people of York to set a good example to those lesser cities."

A plan to seal off the streets around the Mecca, formerly the Rialto on Fishergate, had been drawn up.

Manager of the venue, Derek Lacy, had a different problem: getting the four men in and out without being mobbed. Ingeniously, he appealed to the young fans for ideas. Their suggestions included disguising them as telephone engineers or landing a helicopter on the Mecca's roof.

Evening Press columnist John Blunt was not impressed. Ask any teenager in York who was coming to York and they could name the four Beatles, he fulminated.

"Now ask those same teenagers for names of a few other well-known personalities. The Secretary General of the United Nations, for example, or even our own Prime Minister. The answers, in many cases, will not slip so easily off the tongue.

"Such is fame. Such is our sense of values in this modern world."

He did not blame the hard-working, likeable Beatles "for the howling, screaming, bustling, shoving, fighting mobs which collect whenever they make an appearance," but the fans.

In fact, 400 Beatlemaniacs were jammed behind crush barriers outside the York Mecca-Casino that night, November 27, 1963. They kept up an almost unending chant of "We want Paul, George, Ringo, John."

Some of them were out in the cold for five hours, but only one girl was hurt. Inside, the ambulance crews were kept busy reviving girls overcome at seeing their idols.

They were lucky to see the fab four at all. Shortly after he arrived in York from Cambridge, John Lennon said he felt ill. He spent the next three hours resting in his dressing room. "He'll be all right after a kip," Paul McCartney promised, and he was right.

A police car had been lined up to escort the Beatles' Austin Princess limousine from the city boundary to the Mecca-Casino. But because they arrived early, they chose to drop in to the York Motel on Tadcaster Road first for a meal, to the delight of the other diners.

Once the group reached the Mecca-Casino, two girls from Queen Anne Grammar School, Christine Glensor and Bronwen Pickering, got a scoop for their school newspaper by interviewing them. "We know you are said to like jelly babies, but what do you think about politics?" asked Bronwen, but Ringo wanted to talk about "something else".

For the set itself, the Beatles mixed "tried favourites like From Me To You and She Loves You mixed with tracks from their new top-selling LP like Paul McCartney's solo on Till There Was You", reported the Evening Press.

Then, as soon as the curtains closed, the boys dashed into their car, along the detour route that took them out of the city via Cemetery Road, never to return.

Updated: 09:51 Monday, November 24, 2003