Beatles On My Porch

Beatles On My Porch

On February 7, 1964, The Beatles flew to America, coming across the pond and landing in New York City. Two days later on February 9, they played live on the Ed Sullivan Show. On February 11, they slipped down the coast and played their first American concert at the Washington Coliseum in Washington, D.C. Without a doubt, they were an instant hit and immediately became international super men. From then on the world was watching every move they made.

Coinciding with the release in America of their 1965 mega-hit album, “Help!,” The Beatles came to America for a second tour. Lost in the hoopla of that visit was a concert the Beatles gave on the side porch of a small, two story Cape Cod-styled house at 2129 Garstland Drive in Roanoke Virginia. In attendance were the owners of the house, Jeane and Joe Ryder, their five children (one infant), and several neighbors who were enticed to come over with the offer of ice-cold lemonade. There was no press. The only camera was Joe’s silent 8mm wind-up K-Mart camera.

Well, hopefully you know enough about the Beatles to realize that they never came to Roanoke, Virginia, let alone the house in which I grew up. However, a faux-Beatles group did “pantomime” a concert one summer afternoon in August of 1965*at my house.

Hatched in the creative imaginations of kids who lived in a time when entertainment was something that had to be conjured from within, my sister and brothers came up with the idea of performing a Beatle concert on the side porch. My eldest sibling, Becky, was the natural leader of the gang. Since she was a long-time pupil of Miss Mona at Miss Mona’s School of Dance and since she possessed the only known collection of Beatle 45 rpm records (singles) in our family, she took charge. Becky drove the choreography, designed costumes- complete with Beatle wigs, created the set list, and publicized the event in the neighborhood. Becky was a veteran of side porch neighborhood performances. She had staged plays, skits, variety shows, and dance routines in front of eager, generous crowds of neighbors and relatives. No one in our family was more qualified to produce Beatlemania in Roanoke.

My brothers, Jody and Greg, built the guitars out of broom handles and wood blocks. They also assembled an excellent trap drum set out of garbage cans. While Paul’s bass guitar was a rather ordinary left-handed mop, the George Harrison guitar was a thing of beauty. In fact, it was designed with a hand-crafted (nailed) wooden handle attached to a varnished wooden block that had been pre-shaped with a saw (I suspect my father helped with that). Strings were attached to the guitar neck and attached in realistic fashion to the wood block. I wished I could play that instrument, but I knew that I was lucky to just be included.

Casting was a matter of matching personalities to Beatles. Our neighbor, Toni took the role of Paul McCartney. Jody drew the part of John. Greg became George, and I drew the Ringo assignment. The preparation and practice were intense. For days, Becky pushed and pushed us to bring forth our inner Beatle. For me, it was easy. I was just five years old and that was an advantage in creating my Ringo. After all, Ringo was widely known as being the most childish of the Beatles.

On concert day, Becky sent us out to the neighborhood to herd the neighbors over to the grassy area beside the side porch. They knew the drill. It was another in a long line of “shows by those Ryder kids.” Pitchers of lemonade and Kool-aid were set up on a table beside the porch to refresh the guests and make them feel comfortable. Lawn chairs and kitchen chairs were carefully placed in the grassy area in front of our porch stage in rows. The porch stage itself was adorned in Beatle signs and the instruments were carefully placed on the stage awaiting their masters. My father carefully wound his 8mm movie camera.

My brothers, Toni, and I waited nervously, resplendent in our Beatle outfits and wigs, in our living room which adjoined the side porch. Besides my wig, I wore my Sunday best white shirt and thin black tie. Our look was obviously patterned after the cover of the “Help!” Album.

“Ladies and gentlemen…THE BEATLES!!!!!”

We came charging out and took our spots on the stage. Becky dropped the needle of her record player tone arm onto the worn 45. After the telltale scraping that only loved vinyl can share, John and the Beatles launched into it…

Help!

Help, I need somebody,
Help, not just anybody,
Help, you know I need someone, help.

When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me?

And now my life has changed in oh so many ways,
My independence seems to vanish in the haze.
But every now and then I feel so insecure,
I know that I just need you like I've never done before.

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me.

When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me, help me, help me, oh.

We were one hot band, milking the crowd. I was smashing my garbage can drums while my brothers and sister air-banded their parts convincingly. My father darted all around the front of the stage like a modern rock concert videographer filming this memorable performance in Chaplin-esque style. There we were, lip-syncing on a silent movie.

After two minutes and twelve seconds, the final “oh….” was vocalized and the final chord struck. We stood and the crowd went wild with whistles and applause. Together, we moved to stage front and took our best “Family Von Trap” bow. After signing a few autographs, the crowd began to thin, and we were left to rehash the gala concert for days and weeks to come.

On a gentle August 1965 afternoon in Roanoke, Virginia, The Beatles took over my side porch.

*The dates and events, the principals and roles, the setting and sequences have all been reconstructed from my foggy memory. I make no guarantee of the accuracy of this story. What I know for sure was that there was a side porch Beatle performance, it happened in the 60's, and I was Ringo. The rest of the story...well, you know....