The Beatles travel to America for the first time

In the early morning of February 7, 1964, The Beatles boarded the Pan Am flight 101, Boeing 707, en route to New York City. Also on the flight were Brian Epstein, Neil Aspinall, Mal Evans, and various journalists and photographers.

February 7, 1964, Pan Am flight 101

To me, New York was the big time. From the moment I arrived, I began to think, Maybe I could actually stay in America and never come back.

It’s important to remember the mood of the US in the winter of 1964. The Beatles didn’t only need America; America needed the Beatles. President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated less than three months before. The country was still in mourning. The civil rights struggle was in full force. Russia and America were in a cold war. The nation needed something uplifting. So here was this bright, positive group—with the promise of youth—representing Britain and Europe, bringing sympathy for the loss of a young American president, whom I’d photographed in 1961 in London and Paris.

To be honest, though, I wasn’t really thinking about the Cold War. I was thinking about the next Beatles job. I’d delivered for the Express. And I didn’t want any other photographer going to America.

The Express didn’t need convincing. The editors persuaded Epstein to let me stick with the band for the US tour. The paper had a lot of muscle, all kinds of connections. And I made sure I was on the inside before the band even stepped off the plane in America.

Which is how I got on Pan Am flight 101, departing Heathrow, bound for John F. Kennedy Airport, which had gotten its new name six weeks before. The Beatles had curtained off first class. But I was also in first class. Because board members of the Express were on the board of British Airways, they’d arranged with Pan Am for me to have a seat up front too.

It was the Beatles, Epstein, John’s wife Cynthia, and me. Many of the economy seats were filled with journalists from the Times and the Mirror and the Mail, coming over to cover the arrival. The British Invasion. The Beatles Storm America.

A couple of times the music producer Phil Spector, who’d booked a seat, made his way into first class. He stood there, chatting up Epstein—you can see him on my contact sheets. The Beatles knew he was a big shot, but they wanted privacy and Epstein didn’t want someone—especially a producer—bothering the band. So the flight attendant sent him back to coach.

As we landed, I was sitting with John. We looked out the window and saw a huge gathering of photographers in a press area, behind barricades. One of them, Ken Regan—who would later become a friend—had a black pompadour-style hairdo. And John pointed, “Look. There’s Elvis, come to greet us.”

John was anxious, though, like all the Beatles, about what to expect. Would the American media be tough on them? Or misconstrue something they said in an interview? Would demonstrators, because of all the press on hand, use the opportunity to stage some kind of protest? As the plane taxied in, John and I saw a mob lining the terminal rooftop. But it was a mob of fans, waving and screaming hysterically. They were being serenaded. You could hear the crowd singing, “She Loves You, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah.” It was a lovefest.

On the flight over, I’d proposed a photo idea, which the Beatles liked: I would be the fifth person off the plane, and as the band got halfway down the boarding stairs, they’d turn back and look at me—and I’d photograph them with the press, the crowd, and the New York skyline in the background. The picture would say, literally: Beatles come to America. But in my mind it also said: Benson got a picture no one else was in a position to take.

So we exited the plane: George, then John, Paul, Ringo, then me. And they got so distracted they forgot to turn around! They were caught up in this chaotic drama. The crowd was screaming. The press was screaming, “Look here!” It was deafening. I just grabbed Ringo’s coat and shouted, “Turn around!” and he hollered at the others, and they all looked back, Paul waving. Bingo. Thank you, Ringo. I fired off three frames. One shot ran in the Express the next day under the headline: “Crazy…that’s New York as the Beatles arrive.”

Harry Benson – From The Beatles Stormed America in 1964. I Was With Them, Day and Night | Vanity Fair, January 17, 2024

Going further

• https://www.beatlesbible.com/1964/02/07/beatles-american-invasion-begins/
• https://www.beatlesbible.com/1964/02/07/beatles-american-invasion-begins/
• https://www.beatlesbible.com/1964/02/07/beatles-american-invasion-begins/

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