It was 1964. I was lying in bed looking at the ceiling waiting to go to the Beatles concert that night.

Oh! I'm sorry maybe I should introduce myself. I'm Ringa Starr major Beatles fan ever since I saw their first movie "A Hard Days Night" in the theatre. At 10:00 am I finally got up. I blew a kiss to the poster on the wall thinking back to the day in the theatre trying to hear what "the little one" was saying over the screaming fans. After breakfast I went outside. I tell you I'm always waiting for the day when you can play records outside. Anyway time went by pretty quickly/slowly depending on what kind of person you were. Before I knew it I was riding the bus to the concert. I had front row seats with one of my friends. All I remember is after the last song; the boys were taking thier final bows and someone yells out "Encore!" Then as they were getting ready for the encore I stood up and started cheering with the crowd. I put my hands on stage trying to touch John or George's feet. But my hands got stepped on by George. I sat back in my chair holding my hand in pain. Then all of a sudden everything went black. I would later learn that I had been knock unconscience by a screaming fan behind me and carried back stage by a stage hand.

On to Chapter 2

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