Alan Suemori
Special to The Hawai‘i Herald

In 1961, an Englishman named Brian Epstein was working in his family’s business, minding a small neighborhood record store in Liverpool. It was not his life’s plan, but he figured it would do until his real destiny appeared. For Epstein, the work was boring and unchallenging, but he was struck by the number of teenaged girls who visited the shop every day, looking for the latest recordings of a local skiffle group that had previously been known as the Black Jacks, the Quarrymen, and Johnny and the Moondogs. Intrigued, Epstein paid a visit to the nearby Cavern Club, a smoky, cramped jazz cellar where the group played. There he discovered four scruffy, leather-jacketed toughs who were pounding out rowdy cover versions of the latest American hits popularized by Smokey Robinson, Martha and the Vandellas and Little Richard.

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