The next day, we dressed in our best traveling clothes, I took my nerve pill, and we headed over to George’s house about 1 pm.  This time when we rang the doorbell, Margaret answered the door, and said “Pat? George will be out in a few minutes, he’s getting dressed.”  I loved these people – they made me feel almost like family.  About 10 minutes later, George came out dressed in an orange shirt, orange and green striped slacks, and gold shoes with big brass buckles.  We all just stood there looking at each other and not saying anything.  Finally George, obviously used to dealing with nervous fans, broke the ice by saying “Well, uh, hello!”  We said hello back, but continued to just stand there.  Finally George said “Do you want me to pose for photos or something?”  We all thought this was a wonderful idea since we didn’t have to talk to take pictures, and we all started snapping away.  All of a sudden we were all talking and joking like we knew each other for years.  Pat took my picture with George, but when she snapped it I was laughing, and I said “Hey, that’s not fair, I had my mouth open”, and George whispered down to me “Well, she can take another one can’t she?”  (This final photo was to take on many forms in the future - Christmas cards, oil paintings, sepia photographs, magazines, newspapers, etc.). I asked George if he was immune to flash bulbs yet, and he “blinkingly” looked at me and said “no, not really.”  “Do you have anything you’d like me to sign then?” he asked.  It was good he kept reminding us of these little things, because we all seemed to be in a state of shock.  We then bombarded him with things to sign.  About this time, Margaret appeared in the doorway and told George he had a phone call.  He excused himself and left for a couple minutes, and then came back to continue signing our stuff.  Sandy said “I’ll bet you’re sorry you mentioned this”, and he said “No, I’m not!  It’s the least I can do since you came all this distance to see me.  I’ll sign everything you’ve got!”  Resisting the urge to have him sign the clothes on our backs, we continued to hand him all sorts of bits of paper, pictures, postcards, just about anything but toilet paper.  Everyone was standing in an orderly line for him to sign things - everyone except me.  I was running around snapping photos of everything in sight.  I later sold these photos in my fan club newsletter, labeling them with things like “George with pen in hand”, “George scratching head”, etc.  When he finished signing for everyone else, I gave him my things.  First I gave him a postcard of Esher to sign for Betty Ann.  “You want me to sign this???” he laughed.  I then gave him 5 copies of my revised fan club charter.  He read it first, and then asked me if the club had anything to do with the official Beatles fan club (Beatles USA Ltd.) in New York.  When I said no, that it was an independent club and I did it all by myself, he said if I joined up with Beatles USA Ltd., I wouldn’t have to do it all myself.  “But George, I WANT to do it myself because I enjoy it so much”!   He smiled and said “OK, it’s up to you.   I’ll sign these then; just wanted to be sure you don’t take me to court!”  “What would I want to take you to court?” I asked….