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Diary of a Beatlemaniac : A Fab Insider's Look at the Beatles Era
214Overview
Driven by the frenzy of fan clubs, Beatles concerts, and endless dreams and meeting schemes, Diary of a Beatlemaniac: A Fab Insider’s Look at the Beatles Era romps through the heady, roller-coaster days of Beatlemania as seen through the eyes of one Philadelphia schoolgirl and her band of “Beatle Buddies.”
Compiled from the author’s own diary and extensive scrapbooking, and featuring a wealth of original photographs and exclusive interviews with Victor Spinetti and Hy Lit, this extraordinary slice of life peeks into the heart of an inner-city teen at the forefront of Beatlemania.
For Beatlemaniacs of any age, this memoir offers a unique glimpse into the groovy days of the Swingin’ Sixties and the chance to relive the magic of the pop-culture phenomenon called the Beatles.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781947976030 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Cynren Press |
| Publication date: | 10/09/2018 |
| Pages: | 214 |
| Sales rank: | 1,233,744 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.90(w) x 8.90(h) x 0.40(d) |
About the Author
While attempting to wrangle a press pass from a Philadelphia newspaper to meet the Beatles, Patricia Gallo-Stenman, then a teenager in blue-collar Southwest Philly of the 1960s, was invited to write a weekly column for teenagers. Teen to Teen launched her writing career, and Patricia went on to work as a staff writer for the Philadelphia Evening and Sunday Bulletin. A graduate of Temple University and the University of Stockholm (Sweden) International Graduate School, and an award-winning copywriter, she practiced journalism in northern Europe for nearly twenty-five years. She has also written about the Beatles for Discover, The Sunday Bulletin Magazine. Patricia lives near Dallas, Texas, with her identical twin daughters Jane and Margaretha.
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
WINTER 1962–1963
DECEMBER 10, 1962
On this day of December 10, 1962, I, Patti Gallo, have finally found a use for you. I have owned you since last summer and could not find any uses for you. You were too small to draw in and too good to use for a homework assignment book. From this day on, anything that is interesting I will include in "My Little Black Book."
I'll tell you a little bit about myself. My heroines are Louisa May Alcott, Juliette Low, Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt, Helen Keller, Mrs. Kennedy, Anne Frank, my mom, and Our Lady. I am thirteen and a half. I am not at all pretty and am very plain, with long, black hair and, of all things, a large nose. I'm not exactly Jackie Kennedy, but I am satisfied and would rather look plain than like the other girls my age with teased hair, makeup, and high-high heels.
I am different from most girls. I love to read, and people call me a bookworm. I also like school (sometimes) and get very good marks at St. Clement's Grade School. I love animals, especially horses and dogs, more than anyone I know. Most girls my age are just the opposite of me. I don't know whether this is good or bad. I often think that I should have been born a hundred or maybe seventy years ago. For some reason, I am living in this era. I wish I knew why.
I live in Southwest Philly in one of the thousands of old brick row houses fronted by wooden porches. Many of the neighborhood dads do shift work at the nearby General Electric plant that looms over several blocks of Elmwood Avenue. On Muhlfield Street, we are just about the only family with one child. Two Catholic families down the street each has an even dozen kids — in small three-bedroom houses. Cuban, Irish, Polish, Italian, and German are a few of the nationalities on Muhlfield, so I get to sample some exotic food when I eat dinners at my friends' homes.
We used to live in South Philly when I was a little girl, just about ten minutes away over the Passyunk Avenue drawbridge. My folks, Jennie and John, were raised there, in the heart of the Italian section, where there are even smaller row houses and narrower streets. Can you imagine? Dad left the neighborhood to fight with the 710 Tank Battalion in the South Pacific during World War II, while Mom helped assemble ships at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard in South Philadelphia. They met on a blind date not long after Dad received his army discharge papers. I came along as a "49er" at St. Agnes Hospital only a couple of blocks down Broad Street from Dad's South Philadelphia High School. Mom is a homemaker; Dad works as a night manager for Linton's Restaurant. My grandparents were born in Italy and believe children should show respect at home. This means my folks are pretty strict with me. You know, listen to your elders, confession on Saturdays, church on Sundays, no talking back, dress modestly, get good grades ...
To get away, I love to go to the movies on Friday nights at the Benn or Benson theater on Woodland Avenue with my friend Kathy, who is always falling in love with one of the skinny ushers. She puts her feet on the seat in front so that the guy comes by to flash his light on her. It never goes further than that, but at least she feels, in a strange way, that she gets noticed. My favorite movie star is Charlton Heston. Kathy and I went back to see Ben Hur four times, but she liked costar Stephen Boyd, and we didn't talk to one another for a while.
JANUARY 9, 1963
I haven't written here lately because I've been so busy. School has been in session for a week, but this morning, about five, I got sick. I'm OK now, only a little worried about exams. Not for long though, for they are next week. I can't help it, but I feel I am going to be a writer or something. I started this little diary because I read somewhere that girls used to keep diaries like this about a hundred years ago. So here goes.
JANUARY 21, 1963
Exams have been over since Friday. Today is Monday. I'm so glad, and I did very well ...
FEBRUARY 6, 1963
I have been home with the mumps for three days now. I look like a chipmunk. Not a pretty sight.
FEBRUARY 23, 1963
I am back to school now and back to the same old grind. I love to read and wish our branch library had more books I wanted to read. Today, while at the main library in the city, I realized all the wealth and knowledge I am losing. I must make the best of our small library and not complain. At least I have books to read. In many places in this world, people don't even know how to read — and to think I am complaining about not enough books! Well, see you soon.
MARCH 15, 1963
Tomorrow I will go to the dentist. I wonder about the grand total of cavities. None or one or two I will settle for, but no more. A couple of years ago, I had six. My parents were not happy with the dentist's bill, and I promised to cut down on the sugary treats. I love chocolate in any shape, so this is hard for me.
Summer is around the corner. Rather, it's two months off. I like to exaggerate a bit.
MARCH 19, 1963
If someone gave me a million dollars, what would I do with it? I have often thought this out, and my answer has always been similar. First, I would hire a couple of maids to do all the housework for my mother. Then Id buy the best string of horses you ever saw and a beautiful thoroughbred for myself. I would buy a big old-fashioned house in the country and lots of land to roam on. There would be a big stable for the horses and a bunch of grooms. Then I would be done my buying, except for an occasional sports car or two, and maybe a yacht. I would invest the rest of the money (if there was any left).
Gosh, I forgot the trips for Mother and Dad, as they always wanted to travel. But I'd stay home with the horses. Ah, such dreams I have ...
MARCH 22, 1963
Tomorrow we take our high school placement test, but I am not that worried. You know something funny? I am not worried, for as the great Roosevelt put it, "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself."
CHAPTER 2
SPRING-SUMMER 1963
APRIL 30, 1963
In two days, it will be my fourteenth birthday. I am going into my second year of being a teenager, and so far no boys have even looked at me. They go for the pretty ones who know what to say at the right time. Unfortunately, I am not pretty, nor do I know what to say at the right time. But I don't mind, for there is plenty of time for boys and plenty of time to go on dates. I am glad for Eileen, who is going with a boy named Eddie, but I do think fourteen is a little too young to go in a car with him or get a ring. Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but that's the way I feel. I also want to say that it's a lot of baloney when people say that "boys go for the old-fashioned girls." Ha Ha. If they do, they sure don't show it.
MAY 6, 1963
It's me again! Gee, I was just thinking about me. I can't do anything right. No, I am not kidding. Everything I do turns out backward or upside down. I am a bumbling idiot, and I am so disgusted of doing everything wrong that I just laugh it off. I find that it helps a lot when you do that. I just wish I could do something great so I can show people that I am not always a big dope who trips over her own feet. I wish I could save someone's life or win a prize for a poem. I would like to write a book that would be a big seller. Maybe I would be the most highly sought actress in Hollywood. I don't know why, but I'm always dreaming! (Giggle!)
JUNE 15, 1963
We are out for the summer now and all is well. I have been writing in you a half of a year already. We have been through a lot together, haven't we? I read in a magazine that if you are fourteen or fifteen and have never been out on a date, not to worry, for boys usually go for the popular girls, while some of the nice ones are left behind. So I'm not worrying that something is wrong with me anymore ...
JULY 13, 1963
Oh, how I wish I could make something of myself. Ever since I was small, I've wanted to be somebody, not just anybody. To be looked up to and smiled upon. I know it's a long struggle up, as anyone knows ... I often wish I were rich! Gee, to have a maid of my own or tell a chauffeur to take me a certain place and off I go! I sometimes picture how it would be, me as a daughter of society and a great equestrian. When I wake up, a maid changes my bed linens. After, I have a wonderful breakfast complete with maids and butlers. I wonder if I am the only one who has these types of dreams.
AUGUST 14, 1963
I'd like to write a little about walks. I always take a walk when I am puzzled about something. When you take a walk, the world seems brighter. All you need to do is look up to the blue sky with the white puffy clouds, and instantly, everything seems a little brighter. Your mind always seems clearer after you take a nice walk.
Gee, one person I wish I could meet is Prince Charles. He is the heir to the British throne and is only fifteen. I'm fourteen. Hmmmm. Imagine having a British heir just my age. That can sure spur a lot of romance stories for girls thirteen and fourteen and fifteen!
SEPTEMBER 9, 1963
I have been thinking more and more about Prince Charles. Just think, one day he'll probably be King! How utterly fascinating! Oh, he'll most likely marry some rich duchess or even a princess. Oh, it's "so hopeless," but I'll keep on thinking of him.
CHAPTER 3
AUTUMN–WINTER 1963–1964
OCTOBER 12, 1963
... The summer is a thing of the past and fading into the pages of yesterday. I think of last summer as a "book summer," for I read about thirty-five books before it was over. But still, by the end of the summer, no romance had entered my simple life. I don't think it ever will, for I'm such a bashful girl. I can't even bear to look into a strange boy's face. I'm glad no one notices, though, for I would be embarrassed if Kathy or one of my girlfriends were to notice.
NOVEMBER 10, 1963
This fall I started my freshman year at West Philadelphia Catholic High School for Girls. I now catch the No. 36 trolley every school day to Center City Philadelphia. In the wet weather, there are so many smelly coats packed around me that I can't breathe. Our school, which is an old granite fortress, houses no fewer than seven hundred ninth graders this year. It means you get to know the girls in your classes and homeroom, but not everyone. There is a variety of orders of nuns who teach us Latin, French, algebra, science, English, and religion. Right now, I can't keep them all straight. I must say, they do understand what we freshmen are going through. I take so many books home that my arms ache. We students all look alike in our drab green serge uniforms and beige cotton blouses with Peter Pan collars. With my sallow complexion, I always look sickly.
You must really behave around the nuns, even more so than in grade school. "Big John" is the prefect of discipline. She really is OK, but one bad move and you get a personal invitation to visit her office on the first floor. She is the tallest nun I ever saw, so I am always on my best behavior. You may ask what constitutes "disciplinary action" at West. Let's start with uniform infractions, as in your uniform is too short. Regulations state the uniform skirt must reach the floor when you kneel in front of your homeroom nun. "Hiking up" the uniform to make it appear shorter is not a good move either. There are many no-no's: wildly teased hair, sassing, chewing gum, being driven to school in a car, and — worst of all — not wearing a uniform. Poor Louise spilled chocolate milk over hers; it was sent to the cleaners. Since many of us only own one uniform with numerous blouse changes, she arrived the following day wearing a regular skirt and handed a note to her homeroom sister. No matter. Wham! She landed in detention for slopping chocolate milk on herself.
Otherwise, each day is about the same: go to school on the trolley, come home on the trolley, do tons of homework, rinse out my stockings, and maybe watch TV before bed.
NOVEMBER 22, 1963
Every heart in the United States, and probably in the world, was heavy today. Our beloved president, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, was assassinated. We were in school when Father announced over the PA system that the president had been shot and it was not known how bad the wound was. This announcement came over at seventh period, while I was at Latin class. We were pretty sad but hopeful for the best. Then, during eighth-period English, as we were all ready to read Greek mythology, Father announced, "Pray for the repose of Mr. Kennedy's soul." That was the end, for the eyes of every girl in the room began to tear. Handkerchiefs floated like snowflakes around the room, and Sister St. Bernadette's handkerchief came out soon after. No one I have seen all day has smiled, and all look stunned and very bewildered. Oh, it is so sad and painful to see Mrs. Kennedy's solemn face. How will she tell her children — whose birthdays are both next week — their daddy is dead? Johnson was sworn in as our new president two and a half hours after our beloved president passed out of this world. Oh, pray that this country will bear up under this great strain and that our new President Johnson will help keep us together.
NOVEMBER 28, 1963
Today is Thanksgiving and time to give thanks. Most people are sad though, and not many have the spirit. Our beloved president was laid to rest Monday at Arlington Cemetery. Oh, what a waste. We all loved and admired him from the youngest to the oldest. This will most likely go down in history as another important fact to be memorized, but Kennedy as a man was a generous husband and father. His widow is holding up marvelously, not crying in public once. He was truly a legend in his own time, so maybe we do have something to be thankful for. We can also thank God that this country had someone to take over after Kennedy and that no riots took place to see who would get into office.
DECEMBER 10, 1963
Happy birthday! One year ago today I started writing in you. So much has happened: a new president, a new pope, a new school, a new feeling in people of grief but hope for the future. I am the same old me, though, for one year, or even one hundred years, can't change me. I still love animals, and I also still admire Mrs. Kennedy — even more so, for now we know what a valiant woman she is. Well, can't spend much time writing today, for it is Tuesday and I have piles of homework. I just wanted to say happy birthday to us and our lasting friendship.
JANUARY 1, 1964
Happy New Year to me! I spent part of the holiday time with my friend Andrea, who moved away from the neighborhood to the suburbs. Her dad just finished college and is now an engineer. I miss her a lot. We have been good friends for years and years. Always fun to stay in Springfield, see trees outside your bedroom window and use a dishwasher to clean up the family meals. The downside is that her younger sister and brother drive you crazy. Times like this make me appreciate being an only child. But I would like to be that only child with a tree outside my window and a dishwasher.
On Sunday, we read in the newspaper magazine about a new music group that is really popular in England. Pictures of screaming girls appeared with the black-and-white photos of the long-haired musicians. Why were the girls so nutty? I mean, it wasn't Elvis. I can't remember the name of the group.
JANUARY 20, 1964
Tomorrow is the last day of exams. I haven't been doing as well as I should, and I'm very worried. Oh, if everything were cheery again. I wish I were happy, but how can someone be happy when her school marks just slipped all the way down?
JANUARY 25, 1964
I feel much better than the last time I wrote in you. Just like last year, I have spring fever. Only this year I have learned not to get all choked up about it. The truth is that I have grown up! No more silly, hopeless dreams for me. I'm going after reality. I just hope I can stick to this policy. Learning to do the right thing, such as believing in reality, is hard sometimes. I must learn to grow up and stop believing in those crazy fairy tales!
FEBRUARY 3, 1964
Ah, a year ago today I got the mumps. I should be so lucky to come down with something this February. We have religious retreat this week. Exams have been over for a while, but I wish it were summer.
FEBRUARY 7, 1964
Today is my best buddy Kathy's fifteenth birthday. What do you buy for someone who has the complete collection of Berenstain Bears books? I was shopping at the A&P supermarket with my mom and happened to spot the revolving LP record display rack with new releases. There was an album featuring the same group from England that was featured in the newspaper during my visit to Andrea. The album is called Meet the Beatles. On the record sleeve is a super photo of four heads partially silhouetted in gray tones. They look like slightly impish choirboys. I figured this would make a great birthday gift for Kathy. I paid $1.99 at the A&P and didn't go over my birthday budget.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Diary of a Beatlemaniac"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Patricia Gallo-Stenman.
Excerpted by permission of Cynren Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments, xi,
INTRODUCTION: A Beatlemaniac's Journey, 1,
Part I. Diary of a Beatlemaniac,
WINTER 1962–1963, 13,
SPRING–SUMMER 1963, 18,
AUTUMN–WINTER 1963–1964, 21,
SPRING–SUMMER 1964, 33,
AUTUMN–WINTER 1964–1965, 61,
SPRING–SUMMER 1965, 91,
AUTUMN–WINTER 1965–1966, 119,
SPRING–SUMMER 1966, 128,
AUTUMN–WINTER 1966–1967, 142,
SPRING–AUTUMN 1967, 151,
Part II. Interviews,
Our Muse: All We Need Is Victor Spinetti, 165,
And Here's Hyski: Philly's Own Deejay behind the Beatles, 173,
EPILOGUE: Is There Life after Beatlemania?, 179,
Index, 183,
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