When They Were Boys (54 page)

While the circumstances of life have changed, Kelly has not. A dedicated grandmother, Kelly remains a loyal and devoted follower of the Beatles, and a devotee of all things Liverpool. What the surviving and missing Beatles never knew was that Kelly would be the unofficial leader of the small but active Beatles community in Liverpool, the enablers, the promoters, the ones who remain with us and were left behind when the four local kids went off into the wild world of stardom and celebrity with all the joy and agony that comes along with it.

Freda Kelly is an organizer. It could be an eightieth birthday party for Allan Williams, or something involving the Best family—Kelly will be there and be involved. She was the go-to girl for the young “boys” and their families, and she remains the center of communication for all the “Beatle people” who make Merseyside their home, from Roag Best, to the surviving Quarrymen, to many, many others you may have found in this book.

Her credentials are amazing. After all, how many people could say that John Lennon saved her job, or that “Eppy” was a tough but sensitive boss? How many people could turn a shade of deep red when they talk about being around the boys?

Tony Barrow met her in 1962 and worked near her in 1963.

“Nobody, I mean nobody was closer to the group in those early days than Freda,” Barrow says. “She was young, a teenager like their fans, and was the main conduit to the families. It was always interesting that when Brian moved the NEMS empire to London, Freda never left, not because she wouldn't, but because her parents wouldn't let her go. So she stayed and became our vital link in Merseyside. And what a link she was. She had energy, devotion, and a cheery disposition.”

Although there has been minimal contact with the Beatles and the Believer since the seventies, the boys, in their time with her, cherished her. On the Beatles' 1963 Christmas record, George Harrison gives thanks to “Freda Kelly in Liverpool.” The three other Beatles shout out in response, “Good ol' Freda!,” which now is the name of a first-class film documentary released in 2013 on her life.

Back in the sixties, Kelly was an avid fan of music, the boys, and the Cavern:

I
LIVED AND DIED AT THE
C
AVERN
. I
WORKED AT A FIRM AROUND THE CORNER ON
S
TANLEY
S
TREET AND
I
USED TO GO TO ALL THE LUNCHTIME SESSIONS
. I
REALLY LIKED THE
B
EATLES, THE WAY THEY LOOKED, THEIR ATTITUDE ON STAGE
. I
T WASN'T JUST THE MUSIC
. I
T WAS EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM AND HOW MUCH FUN IT WAS
. W
HEN
I
WENT TO WORK
I
HAD A LOT OF CONTACT WITH THEM, DID THEIR LETTERS, WENT TO THE BANK, AND ALL THAT
. T
HEY ALL LIVED IN THE SOUTH SIDE OF
L
IVERPOOL AND MY CRUSHES ON THEM WAS DETERMINED BY WHO GAVE ME A RIDE HOME SINCE
I
ALSO LIVED ON THE SOUTH SIDE
. T
HE FIRST CRUSH WAS ON
P
AUL, AND THEN
I M
OVED ON TO
R
ICHIE AND
G
EORGE
. J
OHN NEVER GAVE ME A RIDE HOME BECAUSE HE WAS BLIND AS A BAT AND DIDN'T DRIVE
.

She adds, “In 1962 they were just ordinary boys with ordinary dreams. No stars. Just guys from the area, trying to make some money, and make people happy with their songs.”

She worked in the office of Brian Epstein and was a powerful force of optimism at a time when the boys were celebrating success, but worried almost all the time what would happen next. More than a secretary and top fan club organizer, Kelly spent countless hours away from the limelight. She is one of the few who can tell us, in her soft but clear voice, that the boys were not so sure that stardom was really their fate, even in the pulsating days of their most significant year, 1963.

“They were all worried, especially the parents. But Eppy was never in doubt about the end result, just worried about the present. He knew they were going to be idolized. Although he was a bit of a dreamer, he was also a realist, and he thought their music, combined with their personalities, would take the world. The boys didn't exactly see it that way. They looked cocky, but, like all young people, they were a bit scared.”

Kelly wasn't scared, just a bit in awe, when Eppy offered her the job. She has a wonderful smile, and she smiles broadly as she explains how she got the job.

“Brian knew I was a follower. [Not the screaming kind, she says.] He had seen me at Beatles gigs. I knew he was the boss at NEMS Limited, the record store. He told me about signing a contract with them. It was a Saturday night at St. Barnabas's Hall in Penny Lane. I was stunned that he even approached me. I don't know why. I assumed he knew I had secretarial experience.”

Over the years, the perky assistant and fan had to hold her emotions in. After all, “I had to be professional,” she remembers. And as Beatlemania spread to the human universe, she witnessed the euphoria of her boss and the gradual emotional decline as the grand years of 1963 to 1966 passed into history.

“He had so many goals, and by that year, including a personal challenge. Were the boys growing away from him? I didn't see that, although some say it was going on. His death was such a shock to me, and like others, I don't believe for a minute that he took his own life. He loved his family and he would never do that to them.”

One of the most fascinating observations from Kelly is the contrast between the Beatles' fame and the way they were treated on the home front.

“In these parts, they were still just the boys from the neighborhoods, the same guys who played at the Cavern. The nice thing is that, in those days, they were humble in their own community. On the streets, they were still Uncle Jim's kid, or Elsie's boy, or Julia's brother John, or Harry and Louise's George. That's what makes their success even more charming and gratifying.”

Kelly was the main liaison between the business and the families, and even after the Beatles, as a group, disintegrated and went their own ways, she kept in close contact with the families.

Her early take on the boys remains an invaluable part of their history, because Kelly more than anyone brings you to the inside of what they were
really
like in the years before I met them, in the days before the world embraced them and changed their lives forever.

“I tell you, they were so innocent. They didn't even know they were naturally funny. They were surprised when people laughed at what they said. And that was part of their appeal as people . . . that young innocence and almost bashful look. To the people they knew, they didn't really change in those days.”

Who was the most cheerful?

“Richie. He would bounce into the office, dancing. He always made every day bright, at least for me. Not a day would pass when he didn't ask me how my family was, how
I
was doing.”

Who was in charge?

“Well, you know, there were always two people who wanted that position, but it wasn't a battle or anything like that—just two boys who wanted to be running things. Actually, Paul and John played off of each other really well, and Ringo and George would take a backseat, but not when they were alone. George was quite animated when you talked to him one-on-one, and he didn't have the pressure of being the youngest one, a title he left behind as the years moved on and his individual talents started emerging. It was a wonderful experience watching them grow from boyhood to manhood. And then, after Apple came to be, my job was done.”

Kelly does not talk about what she did for them. The most important task was keeping them united with their families at a time when the fame was growing, the success was certified, and the parents were thrilled by the success, but concerned about the fame.

“The parents did not sit idle. Mimi was always lecturing John about the future. Elsie still saved, even after Richie became rich. Uncle Jim McCartney and Louise and Harry Harrison answered letters, and devoted their daily lives to their children. One of the untold stories is how much they worked to help their boys. It was impressive.”

What Kelly will not tell you is what Tony Barrow will.

“She was the glue that kept so many things together,” Barrow says. “She was dedicated to the boys and their families, really committed. Because they loved her, and she returned it tenfold. You know, we wanted to bring her to London. But her parents wouldn't let her go.”

So Kelly stayed behind and did the work to develop an amazing fan club, to act as a bridge between John, Paul, George, Pete, Richie, and their families. And here we are in the next century, where she remains in Merseyside, serving as the unofficial but respected truth teller of the past, and leader of all the people who played a role in the Beatles rise, who also stayed behind.

Every successful entity has its own dedicated people who built the blocks to glory. The first secret-agent girl played an unheralded but crucial role in the life of the boys in the early days, the formative years of their remarkable journey.

After all, Brian Epstein, the dreamer, needed a guidepost, a pathfinder to steadfastly pursue the dream. In came Freda Kelly, a Liverpool original and
the unsung leader who kept the Fabs fabulous at a time when the disbelievers were crawling out of the woodwork.

Kelly was a believer, and so was the loving big sister to the youngest Beatle.

Harry and Louise Harrison had four children. Their daughter Louise was the oldest, and still refers to George as “my kid brother.”

To watch the ascension of her kid brother to fast-and-furious fame was uncanny and prideful for a woman in her mid-twenties who had made the trek to the North American continent, first stopping in Canada, then eventually winding up in southern Illinois. These days she lives a modest life in northern Florida and Missouri, where she runs a foundation with a Beatles cover group known as Liverpool Legends.

It was the spring of 1963 when the word came in.

M
ARCH OF 1963
I
MOVED INTO THE
U
NITED
S
TATES
. I
T WAS AROUND THAT TIME, RIGHT BEFORE
I
MOVED TO THE
U
NITED
S
TATES, THAT MY MOM SENT ME THE FIRST
“L
OVE
M
E
D
O
.” I
WAS STILL LIVING IN
C
ANADA WHEN
I
FIRST HEARD THAT ONE, AND THEN ONCE
I
GOT TO THE
U
NITED
S
TATES
I
MOVED TO A LITTLE PLACE CALLED
B
ENTON IN
I
LLINOIS, IN SOUTHERN
I
LLINOIS, AND SO
M
OM STARTED SENDING ME THEIR RECORDS
. A
LL MY LIFE, WHEN
I
WAS A LITTLE BITTY KID, PEOPLE WERE ALWAYS SAYING TO MY PARENTS
, “O
H, YOU KNOW, SHE'S JUST LIKE
S
HIRLEY
T
EMPLE
. . . . S
HE SHOULD BE IN THE MOVIES
.” S
O
I
ALWAYS GREW UP WITH THIS IDEA THAT SHOWBIZ IS MY FORTE
. S
O WHEN SUDDENLY I HAD THIS BROTHER IN A BAND . . . SO
I
STARTED GOING TO ALL OF THE RADIO STATIONS AND TRIED TO GET HIS RECORDS PLAYED
. I
WOULD GO IN AND SAY
, “T
HIS IS MY KID BROTHER'S BAND, AND THEY'RE NUMBER ONE IN
E
NGLAND, AND YOU SHOULD BE PLAYING THEM
.”

Louise Harrison was an “advance woman,” checking out the territory of North America as a possible new market for the Beatles' music. Brian Epstein was thrilled to have an “agent” on the ground. Louise was aggressive, but along with her hard sell to radio stations, she played an invaluable role: writing to Epstein and the other key players about the real story of America.

I
STARTED WRITING TO
B
RIAN AND TO
D
ICK
J
AMES
, G
EORGE
M
ARTIN
; I
WAS DOING SOME RESEARCH
. I
GOT A SUBSCRIPTION TO
C
ASHBOX
, B
ILLBOARD
,
AND
V
ARIETY
MAGAZINES . . . BECAUSE
I H
AD ONLY MOVED INTO THE
U
NITED
S
TATES IN
M
ARCH OF '63, SO OBVIOUSLY
I
DIDN'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT THE
A
MERICAN MUSIC BUSINESS
. I
KNEW THAT
B
RIAN DIDN'T, EVEN BY HIS OWN ADMISSION HE DIDN'T REALLY . . . HE WASN'T A SUCCESS AT ANYTHING UNTIL HIS FATHER PUT HIM IN CHARGE OF THE RECORD DEPARTMENT AND HE HAPPENED ON THE
B
EATLES
. . . .

I
WOULD HANDWRITE FOURTEEN-PAGE LETTERS TO HIM EVERY WEEK TELLING HIM ALL OF THE STUFF THAT
I
LEARNED
. T
ELLING HIM ABOUT HOW, GOING TO THE RADIO STATIONS, THEY WOULD TELL ME THAT “THIS STUFF IS NOT COMMERCIAL AND WOULDN'T GO ANYWHERE
.” A
LSO [TELLING HIM] WHAT
I
WAS LEARNING BEHIND THE SCENES . . . JUST FROM OBSERVATION AND FROM ALL OF THESE MAGAZINES
. I
WAS LEARNING THAT THERE WAS A WHOLE DIFFERENT ATTITUDE TOWARDS BUSINESS IN THIS COUNTRY THAN WHAT WE WERE ACCUSTOMED TO IN
B
RITAIN
. T
HERE WAS NO GENTLEMANLY STUFF; IT WAS ALL PUSH HARD, AGGRESSIVE, SALESMEN AND MARKETING.
I
TOLD HIM THAT WITHOUT A REALLY GOOD, STRONG SOMEBODY BEHIND YOU WITH A LOT OF CLOUT, YOU AREN'T GOING TO GET ANYWHERE
. I
N
B
RITAIN, AS YOU KNOW, THERE IS THE
BBC;
ONCE YOU'RE ON THE
BBC
YOU'RE OKAY
. B
UT AT THIS TIME IN THE COUNTRY THERE WERE 6,000 INDEPENDENT RADIO STATIONS
. I
WAS TRYING TO GET AIRPLAY ON SOME OF THE MAJOR ONES IN CITIES
I
WOULD GO TO
. . . E
VANSVILLE
, S
T
. L
OUIS
, P
ADUCAH
, S
PRINGFIELD
, I
LLINOIS . . . ALL OF THE ONES WITHIN TWO HUNDRED MILES OF MY HOME
. I
WAS CONSTANTLY BEING PUT DOWN BECAUSE
I
WAS A WOMAN
. W
HAT'S A WOMAN DOING POKING HER HEAD AROUND IN MEN'S BUSINESS
? T
HERE WAS ALSO THIS ATTITUDE OF
“A
RE YOU GOING TO GIVE US A
R
OLLS
R
OYCE IF WE PLAY IT
?”