October 9th, 1971: John and Yoko celebrate John’s 31st birthday in their hotel room in Syracuse, New York, surrounded by friends and guests. John conducts a nostalgic singalong session, during which he lapses into a song by his old, estranged (and absent) fiancé.
JOHN: Why he had to go, I don’t know, he wouldn’t say…
I love the story of how Paul met Heather, Linda’s daughter. When he and Linda had been dating for a while, he called up Heather (only a little girl at the time) and jokingly asked her to marry him. When she said, “I can’t, you’re too old!”, Paul responded with, “Oh yes, of course. I forgot that. Well, maybe I should marry your mummy then. That’d be good.”
BLESS HIS ADORABLE HEART DFPSDONGS I WANNA HUG HIM
[When George and his mother visited Irish relatives in Drumcondra, 1963] We were all in awe at the thought of meeting George, the way he had turned out.
He arrived after the shows. It was very late. He came by taxi, I think. I remember him coming into the house. We were all thrilled to bits meeting him. I think he was wearing what he wore onstage. We were all remarking how he was dressed. He sat down with us and he was deluged with questions. We were all on top of him, asking him things. We were asking about the Beatles, where he was going, what he was doing, how he was getting on and all that. He must have been sick of us all. He was very nice and very normal. He was so natural, a very ordinary type of guy. We couldn’t understand that because he was so famous.
I had young children and they had said to me, ‘Get his autograph, Mum.’ So I got his autograph for two of them. I only had two at that stage. He wrote, ‘To Geraldine, Love, George Harrison’ and ‘To Monica, Love, George Harrison.’ When my daughters went to school the next morning they brought in the autograph with them. There was pandemonium. They were stars, having someone related to them like that. Unfortunately, I lost one of the autographs but I still have the other.
He had asked the taxi-man to wait for him. He probably stayed an hour or even more. We all waited until he left, in case we’d miss anything, and then we left too. We all came home, back down to Dun Laoghaire. That was the last time I saw George. I never saw or heard from him after that. He lost touch altogether. But the night in Drumcondra was a night to remember.