I have been lucky enough to meet two Beatles. The first time was George Harrison at the U.S. Grand Prix in Watkins Glen, NY. While standing in line waiting to get into the Glen Motor Inn, where all of the teams and drivers ate and stayed, George walked out of the dining room right past twenty hungry race fans that were scoping out the dining room to get a look at their favorite drivers.
Nobody noticed him because he didn't look like a driver. I turned to my friend and whispered, ``That's George Harrison.'' And he said, ``Go and get his autograph.'' So I walked around the corner to the front desk and I asked the woman if I could borrow a piece of paper and a pen, which she gave to me. I waited for him to come out of the office trying not to let on that anybody was around, and when he came out I asked him if he would sign for me which he was glad to do. I thanked him and as he walked out the door a few other people woke up to the fact who he was but George was already in a waiting car. I don't know if the other people got to see him or not.
The second chance meeting was with Ringo Starr in London. We went to Hamiltons Gallery to look at photographs by Terry O'Neill. When we arrived, there was a sign over the door announcing a show that evening of paintings by Ronnie Wood, as most of the world knows as guitarist for the Rolling Stones. In the file drawer among all the O'Neill photos were a few he took at Ringo's wedding to Barbara Bach for Life magazine. While looking through the photos my friend said, ``Dave, here's the Life photo of Ringo's wedding taken at Rags,'' a London club. Just as he said that, a man behind us inquired if he could have a look at the show. I turned around and who was no more than three feet away from me but Ringo Starr. So I turned around trying not to look too shocked, and Duane said, ``Whats wrong with you?'' I told him that Ringo & Barbara just went into the gallery to look at the paintings, and about twenty minutes later they came out and purchased a large oil of John Lennon. While he did, we left and waited outside until they came out, and when he did, I said, ``Mr. Starr, may I have an autograph?'' He turned to us and said, ``Ringo, Ringo, call me Ringo!'' A very nice meeting with a very nice man. Ill always wonder what he thought that day when I turned around and he was looking right at me while I was holding a picture of him?