Sept. 2, 1964 - It was a hard day’s night for the Beatles, for some 800 Philadelphia cops and hired protectors, and for the moptops’ thousands of fans — both inside and outside Convention Hall.
But nobody seemed to mind. Nobody seemed to mind that the frantic foursome couldn’t be heard because of the shrieks of joy and screams of agony that filled the air the entire half hour the Beatles were on stage.
Other things filled the air, too. Like jewelry, wrapped gifts, jelly beans, marshmallows, a rubber ball, orange drink cartons, shoes, and sneakers — all rained down on the Liverpool lads.
From the first row in the Hall, you could see the Beatles — but you couldn’t hear them. You couldn’t touch them either because 125 cops, Convention Hall guards, ushers, and private detectives formed a human wall in front of the stage.
The kids were told to stay in their seats. Some obliged — they stood on their seats. Others sat on their parents’ shoulders. And some stood on other kids.
They rocked, they rolled, they jumped, they sank to their knees, they cried, they sighed — all part of enjoying a concert Beatlemaniac style.
The group arrived in Philadelphia in a private bus yesterday afternoon and were smuggled into Convention Hall by way of an underground passage. They used the same route to escape — switching to a limousine on the outside — following their performance before 12,000 hysterical teenagers.
“This is the way it had to be,” said Police Commissioner Howard R. Leary. “It wasn’t that we were protecting the Beatles. We were protecting these girls — from themselves.”
Leary and the upper echelon of the Police Department spent two weeks planning the Beatle invasion. And tonight went so smoothly that Ringo Starr was moved to thank Leary personally.
“You chaps,” Ringo said, “gave us the safest and most orderly protection we’ve had in any city.”
Leary blushed. After what’s been going on in North Philly, this was a lovely way to spend an evening.
Support this project at https://www.patreon.com/realtime1960s
Sept. 2, 1964 - It was a hard day’s night for the Beatles, for some 800 Philadelphia cops and hired protectors, and for the moptops’ thousands of fans — both inside and outside Convention Hall.
But nobody seemed to mind. Nobody seemed to mind that the frantic foursome couldn’t be heard because of the shrieks of joy and screams of agony that filled the air the entire half hour the Beatles were on stage.
Other things filled the air, too. Like jewelry, wrapped gifts, jelly beans, marshmallows, a rubber ball, orange drink cartons, shoes, and sneakers — all rained down on the Liverpool lads.
From the first row in the Hall, you could see the Beatles — but you couldn’t hear them. You couldn’t touch them either because 125 cops, Convention Hall guards, ushers, and private detectives formed a human wall in front of the stage.
The kids were told to stay in their seats. Some obliged — they stood on their seats. Others sat on their parents’ shoulders. And some stood on other kids.
They rocked, they rolled, they jumped, they sank to their knees, they cried, they sighed — all part of enjoying a concert Beatlemaniac style.
The group arrived in Philadelphia in a private bus yesterday afternoon and were smuggled into Convention Hall by way of an underground passage. They used the same route to escape — switching to a limousine on the outside — following their performance before 12,000 hysterical teenagers.
“This is the way it had to be,” said Police Commissioner Howard R. Leary. “It wasn’t that we were protecting the Beatles. We were protecting these girls — from themselves.”
Leary and the upper echelon of the Police Department spent two weeks planning the Beatle invasion. And tonight went so smoothly that Ringo Starr was moved to thank Leary personally.
“You chaps,” Ringo said, “gave us the safest and most orderly protection we’ve had in any city.”
Leary blushed. After what’s been going on in North Philly, this was a lovely way to spend an evening.
Support this project at https://www.patreon.com/realtime1960s