Evans first spotted the Beatles during a show at the Cavern Club in Liverpool, and after striking up a friendship with George Harrison, he got his first band-related gig when Harrison recommended that the club owner hire Evans to be the doorman. Big but gentle, he made a perfectly imposing presence, and by 1963, he'd come on board as the group's full-time bodyguard.
That job quickly turned into Evans becoming the Beatles' road manager, where he worked in concert with Neil Aspinall to ensure that every aspect of the band's travel time was as enjoyable as possible
Mal’s talents as a producer were questionable. Although no mention of the quality of his production with Badfinger was found, he produced a track for a British band called Rupert’s People in which one reviewer commented, “The rather muddy, distant feel to the song proved that Mal was no producer.” He also helmed Who drummer Keith Moon’s album Two Sides of the Moon in 1974 but was fired halfway through the sessions because of the poor quality of the recordings. (hooksandharmony.com)
Mal’s failure as a producer shattered what little confidence he had, and he turned once again to his former employers, joining some of them as they, too, went through difficult times. He went on drinking binges with both Ringo and John, and he accompanied John, his son Julian, and companion May Pang to Disneyland during John’s exile from Yoko Ono.
DEATH
The downward spiral continued. Mal separated from his wife, Lili, and moved to Los Angeles to try to find work in the recording industry. His wife asked for a divorce in December 1975. Then on Jan. 4, 1976, Mal, who had been drinking and taking Valium, became despondent, so much so that his girlfriend, Fran Hughes, called John Hoernie, a writer with whom Mal was collaborating on his memoirs.
Hoernie said he found Mal crying, ‘really doped up and groggy’. Mal told him, ‘Please make sure you and Joanne [Lenard, Hoernie’s assistant on the book] finish the book.’ Mal and John Hoernie went to an upstairs bedroom and in the course of Mal’s incoherent conversation, he picked up an unloaded 30.30 rifle. A scuffle ensued, but Mal was a big, powerful man and Hoernie was unable to take the weapon away from him.
The police were summoned to Mal’s apartment, located at 8122 West 4th Street in Los Angeles. Fran called the police and told them, “My old man has a gun and has taken Valium and is totally screwed up.” Four policemen arrived shortly afterward and two of them, David D. Krempa and Robert E. Brannon, went to the upstairs room.
According to the police report, when Mal saw the police officers he turned and pointed the rifle at them. Lieutenant Charles Higbie of the LAPD robbery and homicide division said, ‘Officers directed him to put down the rifle.’ ‘He refused to put down the rifle.’ The cops fired six shots at him, four of which struck Mal, killing him instantly. Mal was an honorary sheriff of Los Angeles County.
Singer and friend Harry Nilsson had Mal’s body cremated, and a small ceremony was held in Los Angeles on January 7. His ashes got lost in the mail on the way back to England and were eventually recovered and returned to his family.
It’s unknown what set Mal Evans off. He was five days away from delivering his final manuscript, tentatively titled Living with the Beatles Legend, to Grosset and Dunlap. He was also planning to produce a new group made up of some members of Badfinger; recording was supposed to have started that day.
Neil knew everything, everybody, and now, alas, has taken it all to the grave. Unless there is a posthumous memoir, waiting to be released, which I doubt. I asked him countless times, saying he should get it all down, before it's too late, if just for his children. He always said no. Neil was there from the very beginning, a constant friend and associate, never leaving the magical mystery circle, until a few months ago when he retired as head of Apple Corps, looking after their business interests. Quite a job, when you think of all the legal dramas after the Beatles split, and the personality differences at one time between Paul and Yoko.
I do remember one incident: going up the motorway when the windscreen got knocked out by a pebble. Our great road manager Mal Evans was driving and he just put his hat backwards on his hand, punched the windscreen out completely, and drove on. This was winter in Britain and there was freezing fog and Mal was having to look out for the kerb all the way up to Liverpool – 200 miles.
Paul McCartney.
