In Liverpool with the Beatles,  Part II
Last Update: 1 July 1993
Copyright 1993 by saki (saki@evolution.bchs.uh.edu)
----
Liverpool has grown over the years, and there are now suburbs even
the Fabs probably wouldn't recognize. Time has not stood completely
still, although for the visitor's pleasure there are still plenty of
original streets and venues. But out here you'll see the homes and
neighborhoods of thousands of Liverpudlians---private citizens who
may well wonder what you're on about. 

Certainly the people who innocently bought Aunt Mimi's house and
now live at 251 Menlove Avenue must have a faint idea why tour buses
keep pulling over, but do remember that you're a guest here in this
slightly-Victorian, mostly-quiescent area, so please behave with
gratitude and respect, as befits your status as pilgrim; viz., when
you're peering over somebody's tall fence, do it discreetly and refrain
from loud whoops or other expostulations.

I'd recommend, just for a change of pace (and to keep the suspense
building) that you start with a lovely area, Sefton Park. It's near
Ullet Road; Croxteth Drive, Aigburth Drive and Mossley Hill Drive all
surround it. This large city park is actually nice for a pleasant
stroll. In 1963 Dezo Hoffman posed the Boys leaping wildly into the
air, with several apartment buildings and expanses of lawn as backdrop,
for cover art on several EP's. You can find almost the very same view,
if you want, and photograph your friends the same way...not quite the
thrill of posing in the Abbey Road zebra crossing ( = crosswalk), but
it'll do for starters. There's also a small boating lake at the end
of the park. Legend has it that in the early thirties Alfred Lennon met
Julia Stanley here, thus beginning a peculiar, if productive, romance.

Before seeing the Fabs' boyhood homes, you're so close to another
landmark that you might as well continue onwards from Sefton Park
to Greenbank Lane; at the end, jog right briefly on Greenbank *Road*
and you'll be standing at Penny Lane.

It's really here; a modest street, at first lined with houses, then
a small railway bridge (more houses beneath, with lovely brickwork),
and then a small cluster of shops---nothing fancy, quite suburban. 
You can walk its length easily in a few minutes, and you'll know you've
arrived when you see the famous roundabout---a sensible system the British
have for the meeting of two or more streets. The bank mentioned in the
song is still there, though I didn't see a barber; must've closed long
ago. The shelter in the middle of the roundabout is intact, though
boarded up, but people can sit here (on sunny days) and enjoy the busy
traffic. 

And once you've been there, you may notice a delightful phenomenon:
you'll never hear the song again without being transported back to this
spot, instantly, or seeing it in your mind. Being in Liverpool gives
*all* the Beatles' songs a striking resonance; like many ineffable
mysteries in life, you'll actually perceive this aura of meaning through
some sense beyond the five normal ones. It's almost as if their former
presence here has transfered some sort of core-deep understanding to
you. But don't ask me to prove it scientifically. :-)

At the roundabout you'll find Smithdown Road; turn right and continue
roughly southeast till Smithdown Road turns into Menlove Avenue. We
all know who used to live here. The two-story house at 251 is surrounded
by a black wrought-iron fence and dense, if thankfully short, foliage.
It looks very much as it did when John was growing up here, though the
decorated glass-panes in the window are obviously of recent origin.

People stop here frequently: huge tour buses, cars, cyclists, walkers.
It's a wonder there's only a *small* sign reminding pilgrims that this
is a private residence. Anyway, please don't intrude beyond the front
gate. Just stand and admire.

Close by, and walkable, is Beaconsfield Road. Walk down it about halfway
and you'll come to a big running wall; a red-painted ironwork gate with
stylized berries and leaves; and a gatepost that says "Strawberry Field".
Singular. The gate is closed but you don't want to go in, anyway; you
want to stand before the little sign and read the graffiti from various
travelers. Long ago, during John's childhood, the orphanage that was
run from here (in a Victorian brick building that has since been replaced)
held carnivals, or "fetes" regularly. Now there's a new building, and if
you're lucky you'll see a face in one of the windows, peering curiously at 
you as you peer reverently across the fields.

Backtrack down Beaconsfield (if you can tear yourself away) up Menlove
Avenue, and take the fork to Calderstones Road. Turn left at Harthill
Road and you'll be near Quarry Bank Grammar School, now called (after
the park in which it's situated) Calderstone's Community Comprehensive
School. You can wander into the front drive if you want and imagine the
place where John and his young friends spent many wearying moments as
schoolkids, but which nevertheless impressed John so much that to the end 
of his days he proudly wore the Quarry Bank tie. The day I was there (in
the happy company, among others, of Geoff Eddy and Harold Somers, the 
latter our generous guide), the headmaster came out and spoke to us;
agreed that the name change was ill-advised; and told us it would
have been his pleasure to show us around had we only come earlier
in the day; the school had been having its annual Christmas fete. 

At the end of Calderstones Road is Allerton Road; and if you remember
your Beatles history you'll know that Dr. Macca comes from Allerton,
a less-posh neighborhood than Woolton (whence John). If you follow
Allerton Road all the way down to Cleveley or Chalfont Roads, you can
turn west and jog right or left off the main boulevard, Mather Avenue,
to Forthlin Road. Here was Paul's dad's humble abode; look for the
house number 20. It's a small, flat-fronted, connected row house with
a few rose bushes in front and a fence. You might recall that Aunt Mimi
did not approve of John's practicing the guitar, so more often than
not the incipient team of Lennon-McCartney would practice and compose
here; there's a photo of J and P strumming furiously over a notebook
in which the words to "I Saw Her Standing There" can be seen, and Mike
McCartney, Paul's younger brother, took that shot in the front room
of the house at Forthlin Road.

If you're extremely hard-core, you can certainly go down to Speke to
see George's house (25 Upton Green; take Aigburth to Speke Road to
get there), though the Harrisons also lived at 174 Mackets Lane,
east of Woolton and practically on the border of Knowsley, the
next town over; at Mackets Lane the Quarrymen would often come for
raucous rehearsals, cheered on by George's mother Louise, a tireless
fan. Ringo's homes are in a run-down neighborhood west of Sefton Park
and south of Toxteth, called Dingle; you can take Aigburth north or
follow Ullet Road to Dingle Lane to reach it. Ringo lived at 9 Madryn
Street and (more famous) 10 Admiralty Grove, in a rather grim government
row-house.

It can be enlightening to broaden your outlook as far as West Derby,
where Randolph Peter Best was brought up. True, his home isn't invested
with the same sense of solemnity, but it has its points: at 8 Haymans
Green was the site of the Casbah Club, really the basement of the Best
family home but turned into a coffee house by Mona Best and her son. What
could the neighbors have thought? And how did teenagers ever get over
here? It's 'way across town---past Wavertree, Old Swan and Knotty Ash.
It's really the biggest of all the Beatles' homes, surrounded by a large
yard (now heavily fenced and gated), but the basement would certainly
have been roomy enough for burgeoning rock 'n' roll bands. This is where
The Quarry Men played while Pete was still technically in the Blackjacks,
though Pete was soon to be invited to provide pagan droombeats for that 
perpetually-drummerless other band.

Several of the other small clubs the Beatles played are back in City
Centre---the Jacaranda at 23 Slater Street and the Blue Angel at
8 Seel Street. Allan Williams was their nominal manager then; and
today these sites are just drab, nondescript storefronts. Far be it
from me to discourage you on your pilgrimage! But if you want to venture
further out of town---to the north near Crosby in the Litherland district---
you might journey to Litherland Town Hall, on Hatton Hill Road. It was
the site of a famous reawakening of sorts, on 27 December 1960. 

It was at the end of a disappointing first season in Hamburg, though it started
out well. The Beatles met Astrid Kirscherr and Klaus Voorman; Stuart Sutcliffe
fell in love with his soulmate Astrid; the Boys met Richard Starkey, who
was drumming for Rory Storm and the Hurricanes. But their luck ran out
when they changed clubs without renegotiating their contract with Bruno
Koschmider (a minor technicality. :-) And he, incensed, discovered
George was underage and deported him from Germany. The other Beatles
soon followed, in despair. When they reached Liverpool they were broke,
and John remembers not knowing whether he wanted the band to continue
or not.

Nevertheless, they somehow got it together to play a gig at Litherland
Town Hall, now thirty-three years ago. It was the biggest venue
The Beatles had ever played, and it was the first time the teenagers
at Litherland---a respectable social hall---had seen such a performance:
boys in black leather, playing sweaty rock 'n' roll as they'd just been
doing in Germany for far rougher crowds. That night, there was something
akin to a core meltdown in response to the liberating effects of the
music. Fans rushed the stage; there was a small riot just outside the
doors, and Stu received a blow to the head that---as some stories had
it---may have contributed to his later tragic death. And as some of the
Fabs have reported, it was their first experience with the power of
musical mania.

All just a forerunner of what was to come later...and today, in the
shadows of tall trees, Litherland Town Hall still holds the echoes
of the screams and shouts that night that heralded the genesis of a
new musical era.

----

Are you a little tired, perhaps? Well then I have two recommendations
for your non-Beatles-related enjoyment of Liverpool. Before you explore
London and Europe for traces of the Fabs (coming up in the next, and
very probably final, installment of this diatribe), stop in at the
Liverpool Philharmonic at 36 Hope Street. No, it's not high-brow music,
it's one of the best pubs in town (thanks to Harold Somers for the
introduction), with astonishing architecture and intimate drinking
rooms names after unknown musicians such as Brahms or Liszt. And a
very cozy fire. It's only open till 9.00p so get there early. And
while Liverpool can offer you the same haute cuisine that the Quarry
Men enjoyed (jam butties, ham sarnies, chips, pints and the like), you
may want to explore Liverpool's Chinatown for restaurant fare for
adventurous options in dining pleasure.

On to London, and beyond, shortly.

---------------------------------------------
saki (saki@evolution.bchs.uh.edu)

