Concert Flashback: August 21st, 1966. The Beatles. Busch Memorial Stadium. St. Louis, MO. Ticket price $5.50
My first concert was a fluke. I didn’t ask to go. I don’t remember if I even knew they were going to be in St. Louis. I was seven years old, about to enter the second grade. For sure, they were on my radar. “Nowhere Man” was my favorite song.
Caroll, Mary Ruth, and Kim Kendall were family friends, also from Pittsfield. We’d all vacationed to Colorado together in 1964 and 1965. It was Mary Ruth who saw the announcement in one of the St. Louis newspapers. The Beatles were going to play Busch Memorial Stadium. And it was Mary Ruth who pitched the idea to my mom. “Hey. Let’s take the kids to see The Beatles.” I have long maintained it was a good excuse for the two women to do a little shopping. When the idea was presented to me, there was no argument at my end. Plans took shape.
Stix, Baer & Fuller (a St. Louis department store), and Seven-Up, were the sponsors of the show. Busch Memorial Stadium was brand new, having opened in May. The capacity was 49,473. I do not know how the tickets were procured, but am guessing by mail order.
The show was on a Sunday and we left early that afternoon. Two cars. I know we led because I remember waving out the back window as the Kendalls followed. It’s a beautiful, hilly, drive down Route 79 in Missouri. through a handful of little towns that parallel the Mississippi River. Eventually, 79 meets Interstate 70, and the city is to the east.
Everything seems bigger when you’re seven, including the stadium. Our seats were in the loge section. Low and near the field. The stage, nothing more than an over-glorified flat bed wagon, was set near second base. We brought a pair of binoculars along, a gift to dad from his son-in-law, who was in the Air Force reserves and brought them home from Japan. We did not take a camera. Cameras were used for “big occasions” like birthdays, vacations, and holidays. This was only a Beatles concert.
The Beatles had played a matinee show at Crosley Field in Cincinnati earlier on that Sunday. They’d been rained out the night before. They then flew to St. Louis for an 8:30 performance. The supporting acts for St. Louis were The Ronettes, The Remains, The Cyrkle, Bobby Hebb, and The Del-Rays. Six bands for $5.50. Adjusted for 2025 prices, that would total $54.59. And THAT illustrates just HOW overpriced the current assholes are charging for a show these days!
Age is important here. I was seven, Kim was probably 10. Caroll was 34, Mary Ruth, 30, my mom, 33, and my dad, 53. (Yes. Dad was a “cradle robber”) Dad was a semi-pro trombone player. His musical tastes were jazz, swing, and big band. He wasn’t a fan of the younger generation’s music or the long hair. But he was cool enough to let me listen to what I wanted, and was along for the trip. Albeit, less enthused than everyone else. I was a bit young, Kim was a bigger fan than I, and for the three in their 30’s, it must have been an experience.
Some of sparkle had fallen from The Beatles by 1966. John Lennon had made his infamous, “We’re more popular than Jesus now,” statement in an interview. Beatles records were burned in organized masses as a result. A firecracker had been tossed at the Memphis show. Vietnam was rolling, the times growing more turbulent. There was the threat of rain in St. Louis that evening. Some may have stayed away, thinking it would rain and the show be cancelled. There were 23,000 in attendance that night, in a stadium that could hold nearly 50,000.
I can not recall the order of performers. But The Beatles were put on in the middle. Perhaps due to the forecast. Sure enough, it began to drizzle. Someone made the decision that we’d move from the loge to the upper deck where we’d have more shelter. I don’t remember at what point we did so. But I can tell you the steep incline of the ramps was hard on short legs. With the show only half-sold, finding seats was no problem. As we settled in, it struck me how high up we were. I all but pinned my back to the seat, worrying that if I leaned too far out, it would be a long fall to the field!
Technology. There was no designated sound system. The bands played through the stadium public address system speakers. The Beatles had their “Super Beatle,” Vox amplifiers behind them. But nothing in front of them. Stage monitors had not been thought of then! Some of the girls still screamed, making for quite the sound mix. There were delays and echos, but the songs were distinguishable. A rudimentary roof had been placed above the stage.
I couldn’t tell how hard it was raining. Nor would I have realized how dangerous it was on stage for the band. Dad could. As we sat there watching and listening, dad muttered one his most memorable lines ever…
“I hope those sons a bitches get electrocuted.”
Relax. He was mostly joking.
11 songs, 30 minutes. They did “Nowwhere Man.” Kim’s favorite song then was “Paperback Writer.” They did it. I distinctly remember “Paperback Writer.” George Harrison got his momement with “If I Needed Someone.” McCartney did “Yesterday,” And Starr sang lead on “I Wanna Be Your Man.” We split as soon as they were done. We didn’t know, or care about, the other acts.
The set list has always puzzled me. For its brevity and song selection. Little or nothing from the “Help” or “Hard Day’s Night” albums. Not a thing from “Revolver,” which had just been released August 5th. I wonder if some of the songs on some of those records were too difficult to pull off live, given the sound systems then. Maybe they were too busy working on their next release, which would blow everyone away. “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.”
This show was the final “nail in the coffin” for live performances. Lennon and Harrison had been fed up with it all for awhile. It was McCartney who loved and insisted they play out in public. The St. Louis show convinced him that “enough was enough.” They did five more shows in four cities (two in Seattle), and that was it. The August 29th concert at Candlestick Park in San Francisco was the last, save for the rooftop set in London in 1969. It’s pure speculation on my part, but I wonder if they might have reunited for Live Aid in 1985. Bob Geldof brought a lot of bands back together for a good cause. There was one problem in getting that done. Lennon was dead.
We spent the night west of the city. I remember a parking lot with a median that caused trouble for dad. Rather than drive around, he just jumped the curb. We did shop the next day. Ringo had worn a cap during the show and I wanted one like it. Mary Ruth and Kim were standing nearby when mom found one. “That’s not like Ringo’s”, Kim blurted! “Shut up,” was her mother’s response, not wanting to spoil it for me. My version was corduroy in military green. A stiff bill with a braid across the front. Mom and dad also bought me my first album. “Yesterday and Today,” which had several songs we’d heard the night before.
The ticket stubs are long lost, but I still have my original program (in poor condition). I found a near-mint condition copy on Ebay. I would love to have a tape of the show, and inquired of one by reaching out to a “Beatles expert” on XM Radio. “Kent. There are no known recordings of that show,” was his response.
It wasn’t life altering but it was pretty cool. I wouldn’t attend another concert until 1974. I’m guessing dad took some good natured ribbing from his friends at the 8 o’clock coffee group at The Bowl for going to a “long hair” concert. When I see Kim, she doesn’t have a lot to say about it. Mary Ruth and I always got a kick out of reminiscing.
I rank “Nowwhere Man” as my fourth favorite song of all time.
59 years of my life have passed since.
THE PHOTOS: Photo credits. I’d guess they are from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch and/or The St. Louis Globe-Democrat. The ticket stub is NOT mine. They were lost. But it’s exactly like ours. The Beatles (U.S.A.) Ltd. is the program cover. The set list from McCartney’s Hofner bass is something I found on line. In the performance photos, you can spot Ringo’s hat that inspired me. And in the photo of Lennon, you can see just how HARD it was raining. Those guys were plugged in. A miracle someone wasn’t killed. We were sitting in the upper deck,, a little to the right, of this angle.
