HISTORIC INVASION 1964

Fifty years ago, the Fab Four landed in a country mourning the death of John F. Kennedy – facing media disdain and a record label that barely understood them. Rolling Stone's cover story told the true tale of the biggest explosoin rock has ever seen.
As the Beatles disembarked from their flight to America, McCartney glimpsed the tumult and asked, "Who is this for?" The Beatles stopped on the plane's stairway and took in the sight – 4,000 exhilarated young people, waving jubilantly, amassed behind plate-glass windows, hanging over airport terminal balconies, clustered atop buildings, holding large signs that welcomed the band, as policemen formed lines to hold back the surging crowd. Tom Wolfe – who was covering the Beatles' arrival for the New York Herald Tribune – reported that "some of the girls tried to throw themselves over a retaining wall."

Paul -who had a matchless talent for controlling and timing his facial expressions for effect – looked dazed. "On a scale of one to 10," he later said of the scene at JFK, "that was about a hundred in terms of the shock of it." 

The Beatles' momentous American debut on The Ed Sullivan Show two nights later, on February 9th, 1964, blew wide open the doors of the 1960s and drew new borderlines of era and generation across this country. Elvis Presley had shown us something about using rebellious style as a means of change; the Beatles would help incite something stronger in American youth that night – something that started as a consensus, as a shared joy, but that in time would seem like the prospect of power. Their impact was about something more than fad or celebrity; it was about laying claim to a brand-new kind of youth mandate.

Though George Harrison said in February, before departing the U.S., "They'll never see us again," the Beatles returned to North America in August for a tour of 24 cities and 32 shows in 34 days. Broadcast reporter Larry Kane published a breathtaking account of the experience, Ticket to Ride: Inside the Beatles' 1964 Tour That Changed the World. In Kane's book, the story is high drama, on the verge of violent and deadly chaos: Crowds awaiting the Beatles surge out of control, a fan gets shoved through plate-glass windows. In Quebec, an anti-British faction threatened the band. "One group of extreme separatists," reports Kane, "had apparently complained about Ringo Starr, whom they called the 'English Jew'. . . . Ringo replied with a chuckle to a newspaper reporter, 'I'm not Jewish. But I am British. . . .' " Kane asked Lennon how the tour's opening show, at San Francisco's Cow Palace, felt. "Not safe," said Lennon. "Can't sing when you're scared for your life."

The Beatles visited Miami  Beach (5,000 fans greeted them at the airport) to tape their final live 1964 appearance for Sullivan, at the Deauville Hotel. More significant, in some ways, than that performance was something else the Beatles did while in town. Heavyweight boxing champion Sonny Liston and challenger Cassius Clay were preparing for a fight at Miami Beach's Convention Hall. Liston – a foreboding, seemingly indomitable man – was heavily favored, while Clay, who was loud-talking and disrespectful of his opponent, was expected to be brutally overpowered. Photographer Harry Benson arranged for the Beatles to meet Clay at his training gym – an atypical kind of summit, except that both the Beatles and Clay were regarded as flaming comets of the moment, renowned as anomalies. Clay was late for the meeting, and the Beatles grew irritated. "Suddenly," wrote Lipsyte, "the door bursts open and there is the most beautiful creature any of us had ever seen. Muhammad Ali. Cassius Clay. He glowed . . . he was perfect. . . . And then – if I hadn't known better I would have sworn it was choreographed – he turned and the Beatles followed him . . . out to the ring and they began capering around the room. They lined up. He tapped Ringo. They all went down like dominoes. It was a marvelous, antic set piece." Clay and the Beatles reveled in the joy of their irreverent ascendancy. Benson's photos capture an early moment of a new history and its new heroes.