[PHOTO/CAPTION: Art Schreiber]

[PHOTO/CAPTION: Art Schreiber]

The

Braille Monitor

October,

2003

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39 Years Ago Newsman

Had Front‑Row Seat to Beatles History

by Rick Nathanson

Art

Schreiber

From the Editor: Art

Schreiber is president of the NFB of New Mexico. If you talk to him for any

length of time, you will quickly learn that much of his working life was in

radio and that he still has lots of contacts in media circles. Not many Federationists

know, however, that Art was one of two American reporters sent to cover the

first Beatles concert tour of North America in 1964. The story of that adventure

has nothing to do with blindness, but it is an interesting glimpse into the

life of a Federation leader. The August 22, 2003, edition of the Albuquerque

Journal carried an article about Art Schreiber and that amazing Beatles

tour. Here it is:

Like fans of the Fab Four

everywhere, Art Schreiber has for years yearned for a Beatles reunion. Of course

the reunion he hopes for isn't exactly what most people have in mind. For Schreiber

a reunion would be a chance to get reacquainted with the two surviving members

of the world‑changing rock band. One of the two, Ringo Starr, will appear

in concert Monday at the Sandia Casino Amphitheater.

Schreiber is planning to

be there, and he's hoping for an opportunity to shake Starr's hand and exchange

a few personal words with him. Schreiber, 75, was one of five journalists--two

American and three British--assigned to travel with the Beatles on their first

tour of North America in 1964. The thirty-two‑day tour breezed through

twenty-five cities and logged more than 40,000 miles.

Next year will be the fortieth

anniversary of that tour, and a book about the tour, Ticket to Ride,

by Larry Kane, the other American journalist accompanying the Beatles, will

be released later this year.

John Lennon was shot and

killed by a crazed fan on December 8, 1980, outside his New York City apartment

building. George Harrison died November 29, 2001, from cancer. "The last

time I saw Ringo was thirty-nine years ago," Schreiber recalled. "It

was the day after the Beatles' final concert of the tour, and they were at the

airport in New York to head back to London. Ringo and the others called to me

from the top of the steps at the airplane, `Bye, Art!' "Ringo," he

[Schreiber] said, "was the most happy‑go‑lucky of all the Beatles.

But he confided to me how lucky he felt to be with the Beatles because he had

replaced the original drummer, Pete Best. He also said he was homesick. That

was the most serious I ever got with him."

Schreiber, also a bit homesick,

told Ringo about his eight‑year‑old daughter Amy. Unknown to Schreiber,

Ringo got Schreiber's home address in Cleveland and sent Amy a troll doll, wildly

popular at the time. A gossip columnist from the Cleveland Press got

wind of it and mentioned it in a column.

"When I got home from

the tour, there were thirty-forty kids in my front yard waiting to touch me,"

Schreiber said. "They asked my daughter to hold up the troll doll behind

the glass door, and the kids kissed the glass. My wife was always having to

clean the door."

Of course by that time

Schreiber had become used to all the eccentricities and craziness that followed

the Beatles.

Radio

Days

Art Schreiber grew up in

East Liverpool, Ohio, an irony the Beatles would have appreciated. His father

was a Presbyterian minister and manager of a 2,000‑acre cattle farm. His

mother was a homemaker.

"My father always

listened to the news on the radio before going out to work in the morning, and

I listened with him," Schreiber said. He credits those early morning broadcasts

with inspiring him to later seek a career in broadcast.

Schreiber eventually found

himself in Albuquerque as vice president and general manager of Albuquerque

radio stations KOB-AM and KOB-FM.

Always extremely near‑sighted,

Schreiber became blind as a result of a condition that causes tears and detachment

of the retinas. He is now president of the National Federation of the Blind

of New Mexico and chairman of the New Mexico Commission for the Blind.

Back in 1964 Schreiber

was news director at KYW-AM in Cleveland, which was owned by the Westinghouse

Broadcast Network. Schreiber often doubled as national correspondent for Westinghouse,

covering high‑profile stories and rubbing elbows with the day's biggest

newsmakers.

During his career Schreiber

filed radio reports on the presidential bid of John F. Kennedy, Kennedy's funeral,

and Lyndon Johnson's rise to the presidency. He covered NASA and the first manned

space flights. He reported on race riots in Chicago, New York, Los Angeles,

and Miami and he covered Martin Luther King Jr.'s march from Selma to Montgomery

and James Meredith's march through Mississippi for voting rights.

That he got the Beatles

assignment was something of a fluke. A competing radio station had won a sponsorship

bid to bring the Beatles to Cleveland as part of the band's tour. To avoid getting

lost in the roiling dust cloud of Beatlemania, Schreiber suggested that he be

placed on the band's tour as the national correspondent for the Westinghouse

Broadcast Network. The network's Washington bureau chief hated the idea, insisting

that Schreiber cover the national Democratic convention in Atlantic City.

"He told me a serious

newsman can't lower himself to cover the Beatles," Schreiber said. "I

told him it's a sociological phenomenon and we ought to do it." Schreiber

also assured him he could manage both assignments.

Westinghouse Network officials

gave Schreiber the go‑ahead. He joined the Beatles entourage in New York,

straight from the Democratic convention, missing only a few of the tour stops.

He remained with the Beatles for the better part of a month and got to know

each of them personally.

"John Lennon and I

sat together on the chartered plane almost every night," Schreiber said.

"When John found out I traveled with Kennedy and King, he couldn't get

over it and kept wanting to talk about politics and religion and what was happening

in America. He was an intellectual."

When not deep in conversation

with Schreiber, Lennon and Paul McCartney passed sheets of paper back and forth

as they crafted songs. "The floor of the plane was just littered with the

stuff," Schreiber said. "I could have picked up those scraps and they'd

be worth big money today."

Among his fondest memories

are nightly Monopoly games he played with Lennon and George Harrison. "When

we'd arrive at a hotel, I'd no more sooner get in my room and the phone would

ring and it would be John Lennon. He'd say, 'Art, where are you; we're waiting.'

So I'd go to his room and he and George would be sitting there at the Monopoly

board. John always stood up to shake the dice and roll. He wanted so badly to

get Park Place and Boardwalk. He could stand to lose the game, as long as when

he lost he had Park Place and Boardwalk."

Harrison was true to his

reputation as the quiet Beatle. He was preoccupied with acquiring the B&O

Railroad. "I asked him why he wanted the B&O so badly, and he never

did tell me. He never did tell me much of anything. We'd play until sunrise,

and I'd be falling asleep at the table, and John would poke me and say, 'one

more game, Art.' During this whole time George would say practically nothing."

Sleeping late was out of

the question for Schreiber, who had to file fifteen radio spots each day. His

reports focused on all manner of things Beatle: what they had for breakfast,

lunch, and dinner; how the crowd and individual fans reacted to them at concerts;

how the security was managed; interviews with local DJs who aired Beatles music;

and near daily interviews with the Beatles themselves.

He also reported on the

assortment of things that fans threw on stage during the Beatles' shows. Airborne

projectiles included cakes, jelly beans, various articles of clothing--particularly

women's undergarments--and pieces of jewelry.

"In Detroit the cops

would come on stage and grab the watches and anything else of value and put

them in their pockets," Schreiber recalled. "In Chicago, at an amphitheater

on the site of the old stockyards, somebody in the balcony threw a huge raw

steak and almost hit Paul McCartney. Just missed his head by inches."

Schreiber, then 36, became

a celebrity by association with the 20‑something Beatles. As part of the

band's entourage, he often got pawed by fans who wanted a piece of the Beatles--but

would settle for a piece of anyone or anything that had come in contact with

the Beatles.

On separate occasions Schreiber

had three tape recorders and two portable typewriters "ripped right out

of my hands," he said. "Fans were grabbing at my clothing, tearing

away pieces of my suits. Someone even cut off my necktie with scissors."

Schreiber, a smoker in

those days, said fans went so far as to fight for his discarded cigarette butts.

Band

Mementos

On a wall in Schreiber's

home hangs a shadowbox that frames a "Meet the Beatles" record album,

a New York Paramount orchestra pit ticket for "An Evening With the Beatles,"

price $2.50, and several Beatles photos with personal inscriptions and autographs.

The contents of the shadowbox

and a handful of audio interviews Schreiber did with the band members are all

he has left of the historic 1964 tour. "It was a special time, but I don't

think I realized it back then," he said.

Of course the passing years

have a way of putting things in perspective. Should Schreiber have his own personal

Beatles reunion, he intends to seize the moment. "I'll shake Ringo Starr's

hand and say, thanks for letting me be a part of it because it sure was fun."

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