And funerals
At around that time, I read in the NME or similar that he would be home for Christmas. My Nan lived on Salisbury Road and knew Joe's Mum. I got my Nan to take me round to his house, which was a substantial intrusion on all fronts. Anyway, I was shown into the back room and had an hour or so with Joe and we drank a glass of sherry, the only alcohol in the house. Amongst other things, he showed me his framed telegram from John and Paul, thanking him for his version of With A Little help From My Friends. I wonder what happened to that.
People always say you shouldn't meet you heroes, but that just cemented my adulation, he wasn't as I'd expected, shorter and very, very quietly spoken, humble and gentle and apparently untroubled that this youth turned up out of the blue and was happy to chat.