THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!

Happy Birthday to the one and only Sir Paul McCartney

Back in the mid-nineteen seventies, I spent many days each week in St John’s Wood, North London, at the home of Paul and Linda McCartney. I was a young photographer and had a great friend, Matthew Taylor, with whom I would photograph most music gigs. He was a great photographer and had a younger brother called Barny. Barny was going out with Heather McCartney, Linda’s oldest child. So, Matthew and I were part of the inner circle at ‘Chez McCartney’, a five-minute walk from Abbey Road Studios.

I remember clearly the first time we went to their house. I was quietly excited and ensured I didn't show it when Heather and Barny introduced me to Paul and Linda. I mean, as if I didn't know who they were. Well, they didn't have a clue who I was, and an introduction was the done thing. When Barny told Linda, “This is my brother Matthew, and his best mate Danny, and they are both music photographers”. Linda stopped and suddenly was even more interested in us. She was one of the loveliest people on the planet but now had something in common with Matthew and me. Let’s not forget she was a fantastic photographer. It wasn't long before we had the kettle on, and we were all sitting around talking about photography, life and music. Neither Matthew nor I mentioned The Beatles; that would not have been the thing to do. We went back many times, and Paul Linda, Heather Matthew, Barny, and I would sit around in the garden, and we would all chat and chat. Paul would sometimes pick up a guitar and play a song or two, which would blow my tiny teenage mind, but I had learned by then and by hanging around with Pink Floyd, The Who, and other artists to stay cool. It wasn't long after this that Wings would soon be gigging and playing around. So, being invited to shoot the shows was very exciting for Matthew and me.

Paul McCartney & Wings

Paul McCartney & Wings

Weirdly, this wasn’t the first time I had met Sir Paul McCartney. I met him many moons ago when I was about five. We lived in the East End of London and moved out of the area to Redbridge, near Ilford in Essex. I had just started my first school, and life was exciting.

My dad had a new job working for a company based in the East End of London. He had left a job where he had been working for the notorious East End villains Ronnie & Reggie Kray. Now, he had a more respectable job. He was a sales manager at a company that sold textile machinery. This job involved a lot of travelling, and he had to travel to Switzerland on business. I clearly remember a hot summer day at Redbridge Infants School, and I was lying on the grass during the lunch break with a classmate. I was looking up at the blue sky and saw a plane in the sky. This was the day my dad went on the trip. I told my friend, I think my dad is on that plane. Obviously, that wouldn’t have been his plane. But I didn't know. I was just five years old. I just laid back on the grass and started to daydream. I had never been on a plane or anywhere near one. I lay there with my school friend, and we talked about how exciting it would be to fly in a plane. About two days later, my dad’s brother, my uncle Malcolm, came to our house. He picked up my mum, older sister, and baby brother and me, and drove us across London to Heathrow airport. I seem to remember us calling it London Airport then.

We would meet our dad as he returned from his two or three-day business trip. This was very exciting. Actually, going to the airport was thrilling. We got to the arrivals at Terminal 2 and found some seats. We had a while waiting for our dad’s plane to arrive. So, my sister and I decided to wander away from the seats. It was not like things today. My mum and uncle weren't remotely bothered that we were wandering off alone. As we walked, my sister said, “Look, that’s Paul McCartney “. I knew who he was and who all of The Beatles were. This was the middle of the 1960s, and I had already been to the cinema to see the films Help & A Hard Days Night. I was a Beatles fan at a very young age. So, to see one in real life was a dream come true. There he was, walking along wearing a great trench coat, holding hands with a young lady. I assume it was Jane Asher. I ran to catch him up as he was speeding away from us. As I got alongside him, I said,” Are you Paul McCartney?” I was now also pulling his coat, and I must have repeated it three or four times. He suddenly stopped and said,