Ringo's Near-Death Drama: The Shocking Hospital Stay That Almost Robbed Us of a Beatle!
Fab Four drummer reveals how a nurse's innocent instruction led to a three-year medical nightmare that nearly derailed his iconic career.
• Ringo Starr's childhood appendicitis turned into a life-threatening battle with peritonitis, with doctors telling his parents he might die
• A misunderstanding with a nurse led to Ringo falling and injuring himself, resulting in an additional three-year hospital stay
• Despite multiple health setbacks, including pleurisy from a rainy London trip, Ringo persevered to become the Beatles' drummer and a global icon
As we find ourselves firmly entrenched in the futuristic-sounding year of 2024, it's easy to forget just how far we've come. The world of 1963, with its quaint notions and burgeoning rock 'n' roll scene, seems almost as distant as the Mesozoic era. Yet, thanks to a recently unearthed article from October 1963, we're granted a fascinating glimpse into the early days of Beatlemania through the eyes of the Fab Four's rhythmic backbone, Ringo Starr.
The piece, titled "Ringo Starr tells his own life story," is a veritable time capsule, brimming with the wide-eyed optimism and casual misogyny that defined the era. Reading it now, one can't help but marvel at the naivety of it all. Here was Ringo, barely out of his early twenties, already reminiscing about his life as if he were penning his memoirs from a rocking chair on some distant porch.
"Get in there, Ringo," the lads are saying, "Write something," the article begins, immediately transporting us to a world where "the lads" could cajole one into literary pursuits without so much as a contractual obligation or a team of publicists present. One can almost smell the stale cigarette smoke and hear the clacking of an old typewriter.
Young Richard Starkey, as he was christened on that fateful day in July 1940, comes across as a sort of Dickensian character transplanted into the swinging sixties. His recollections of growing up in Liverpool's Dingle area paint a picture of cobbled streets and ancient buildings that wouldn't seem out of place in a sepia-toned daguerreotype. It's a far cry from the gentrified hipster havens that many of Liverpool's formerly "tough" areas have become in the intervening decades.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of Ringo's tale is his casual recounting of multiple, prolonged hospital stays. In an age before the NHS was taken for granted (and subsequently underfunded), young Richard's brushes with death seem almost comically frequent. Appendicitis at six-and-a-half, followed by a year in hospital? A fall that resulted in another three-year stay? One can't help but wonder if the doctors of 1963 were perhaps a tad overzealous in their approach to bed rest.
The article's description of Ringo's schoolmate, soon-to-be-known as Billy Fury, serves as a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of fame. In 1963, this casual name-drop must have seemed impressively star-studded. Now, it reads more like a footnote in pop culture history, a "remember him?" moment for music trivia enthusiasts.
Ringo's recollections of his time with Rory Storm and The Hurricanes, including three seasons at Butlin's Holiday Camps, offer a glimpse into a music industry that seems positively quaint by today's standards. The idea of a future Beatle honing his craft by dodging hecklers and playing unfamiliar requests at a holiday camp feels almost charming in its simplicity. One imagines a world free from auto-tune and carefully curated Spotify playlists, where musicians had to rely on quick thinking and raw talent to win over an audience.
The young Ringo's musings on fame and its drawbacks are particularly fascinating when viewed through the lens of 2024's social media-saturated landscape. "Never being able to go out without dozens of people recognising us, is another," he laments, blissfully unaware of the 24/7 scrutiny that would become the norm for celebrities in the decades to come. One can almost hear the collective eye-roll of today's TikTok stars and Instagram influencers.
Perhaps the most endearing aspect of the article is Ringo's earnest excitement about his newfound wealth and the material comforts it affords. His detailed description of his "fab, wonderful clothes" reads like a shopping list from a time traveller attempting to blend in with the locals of 1963. "Black corduroy trousers, so tapered I can hardly get into them. Blue silk shirts with specially made collars. Big brassy cuff links, that aren't brass at all, but gold." One can almost picture the young drummer strutting down Carnaby Street, revelling in his sartorial splendour.
It's worth noting that this article was published just as Beatlemania was reaching fever pitch. The band had already released their first two albums, "Please Please Me" and "With The Beatles," and were on the cusp of global superstardom. Yet, there's a refreshing lack of cynicism in Ringo's words. He speaks of his bandmates with genuine affection, referring to them as "the other three idiots" in a way that feels more like brotherly teasing than carefully crafted PR speak.
Reading this article in 2024, one can't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for a simpler time. A time when a working-class lad from Liverpool could catapult to international fame armed with nothing but a pair of drumsticks and a winning smile. A time when celebrities could speak candidly about their experiences without fear of their words being dissected and misinterpreted across a million social media platforms.
Of course, it's important to remember that this nostalgia is viewed through rose-tinted glasses. The 1960s, for all their cultural significance, were far from perfect. Issues of inequality, discrimination, and social unrest bubbled beneath the surface of the swinging facade. Ringo's article, charming as it is, represents a very specific perspective - that of a young, white, male musician riding the wave of unprecedented success.
As we reflect on this snapshot of history, it's worth considering how much has changed in the intervening years. The music industry has undergone seismic shifts, with streaming services and digital downloads replacing vinyl records and transistor radios. The nature of fame itself has been transformed, with social media allowing celebrities unprecedented direct access to their fans (for better or worse).
And what of Ringo himself? The cheeky drummer who once mused about playing everything with either hand has gone on to enjoy a long and varied career. He's released numerous solo albums, toured with his All-Starr Band, been knighted by Prince William, and even tried his hand at narrating Thomas the Tank Engine. Not bad for a lad from the Dingle who once thought he'd never master "this great language of ours."
In many ways, this 1963 article serves as a reminder of the Beatles' humanity. Before they were icons, before they were legends, they were just four young men from Liverpool trying to make sense of their rapidly changing world. Ringo's words, unpolished and unfiltered, offer us a glimpse behind the curtain of fame, to a time when the Fab Four were still marvelling at their own success.
As we hurtle further into the 21st century, it's articles like these that help us maintain a connection to our cultural past. They remind us of where we've come from and how far we've travelled. And perhaps, in some small way, they help us make sense of where we're going.
So here's to you, Ringo Starr of 1963. May your trousers always be tapered, your cuff links always brassy (but actually gold), and may you never lose the ability to leap on George Harrison's head when the mood strikes. After all, in a world that often takes itself too seriously, we could all use a bit more of that Beatles spirit.