George Harrison at the British Grand Prix, 14 July 1996
Photo: Dave Benett
“Often [George Harrison] went unrecognized as he stood at the back of the McLaren garage, soaking up the atmosphere. He expected no special favors, he had no minders or security men; he just enjoyed being there.
He sought me out in the paddock at the British Motorcycle Grand Prix at Donington Park some eight years ago. My wife Beth, a big Beatles fan, had died of cancer two months earlier. Somehow he had heard the news, and he wanted to say how sorry he was. I was astonished he knew, and that he had made the effort to find me. It lifted my spirits at a very difficult time.” - Andrew Marriott, Formula One Supporters Association, 6 December 2001 [x]
“George [Harrison] came to quite a few bike Grands Prix that year, happy to stand in the pits and enjoy the atmosphere, sometimes completely unrecognized by the local fans. Here, too, was a kind and generous man. My secretary made some relatively small arrangements for one particular race, fixed the hotel room or something similar. The same day a huge bouquet of flowers was delivered personally by George.” - Andrew Marriott, Formula One Supporters Association, 6 December 2001 [x]
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
mellow’d to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair’d the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,—
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.