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Pete Best had been with the group since 12 August 1960.   Pete Best is fired from the group at 10am at Brian Epstein’s NEMS record shop.

Pete said – (from the “Beatle! The Pete Best Story”) :

“Neil drove me into town and dropped me off in Whitechapel. I found Brian in a very uneasy mood when I joined him in his upstairs office. He came out with a lot of pleasantries and talked anything but business, which was unlike him. These were obviously delaying tactics and something important, I knew, was on his mind. Then he mustered enough courage to drop the bombshell.
‘The boys want you out and Ringo in.’
I was stunned and found words difficult. Only one echoed through my mind. Why, why why?
‘They don’t think you’re a good enough drummer, Pete,’ Brian went on. ‘And George Martin doesn’t think you’re a good enough drummer.’
‘I consider myself as good, if not better, than Ringo,’ I could hear myself saying. Then I asked: ‘Does Ringo knew about this yet?’
‘He’s joining on Saturday,’ Eppy said.
So everything was all neatly packaged. A conspiracy had clearly been going on for some time behind my back, but not one of the other Beatles could find the courage to tell me. The stab in the back had been left to Brian, and it had been left until almost the last minute. Even Ringo had been a party to it, someone else I had considered to be a pal until this momentous day…
Epstein went on to what for him was simply next business at this shattering meeting. ‘There are still a couple of venues left before Ringo joins – will you play?’
‘Yes,’ I nodded, not really knowing what I was saying, for my mind was in a turmoil. How could this happen to me? Why had it taken two years for John Lennon, Paul McCartney and George Harrison to decide that my drumming was not of a high enough standard for them? Dazed, I made my way out of Brian’s office. Downstairs, Neil was waiting for me. ‘What’s happened?’ he asked as soon as he saw me, ‘you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

’All I want to do is try to get my thoughts together,’ I told him. He was really upset and as disgusted as I was at this sudden, stupefying blow. He began to talk about quitting his job as road manager.

‘There’s no need for that,’ I told him. ‘Don’t be a fool – The Beatles are going places.’ …

Once I was home at Hayman’s Green, I broke down and wept. My mother already knew what had happened that morning in Brian’s office, as unknown to me Neil had slipped away at some stage to telephone her. She had been trying in vain to contact Epstein only to find that he was ‘Not available’.

When I was sufficiently recovered from the initial shock, I realised that I had promised to carry on as a Beatle until Ringo’s arrival and that we were due to play Chester that night. Now I knew I could never face it. I had been betrayed and sitting up there on stage with the three people who had done it would be like having salt rubbed into a very deep wound. If they didn’t want me, they would have to get along without me from this moment on and find another drummer..”

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