Peter Noone was hooking up with groupies, partying with the Rolling Stones, and in AA by the age of 19

Peter Noone was one member of the popular 60’s band, Herman’s Hermits.

With his thick head of hair and boyish charm, it would be easy to compare him to a Justin Beiber or Harry Styles of today.

However, there is one distinct difference between this former teen heartthrob and those of today…

With his adorable face and equally adorable voice, Peter Noone skyrocketed to stardom in his teens as the frontman of Herman’s Hermits. The band toured both in America and Britain and became iconic.

The band nabbed their first number 1 hit in England in 1964 with “I’m Into Something Good.” 

“Herman’s Hermits sold millions of records before anyone even saw us, which just doesn’t happen now,” Noone said.

“I didn’t know what I was doing: my stage persona was a shy little boy, which is basically what I was.”

Wikipedia Commons / Jack De Nijs

Noone and the rest of his band released more than 20 hit records and even outsold the Beatles in 1965. Some of their biggest hits included I’m Into Something Good, No Milk Today and There’s A Kind of Hush (All Over the World).

The band received a million-dollar record deal by the time they were 17, and one of the highlights of Noone’s career was when Elvis Presley performed one of their hits–”I’m Henry the Eighth, I Am”–in 1965 on stage.

“He was making fun of me, but who cares?” says Noone. “It was Elvis!”

Even at this young age, Noone was living the quintessential rocker lifestyle. 

“Although without the drugs bit,” he insists. “That was never my thing.”

But when asked about all of the other typical rock ‘n’ roll habits? 

Wikipedia Commons / Jack De Nijs

“Sure. We were 16, 17, and we could easily stay up all night, go on the rampage then be up the next morning to do interviews and go to gigs. It was a brilliant time.”

At 64, Noone is on the road again as part of Britain’s Solid Silver 60s Show. His fellow Hermits veterans will not be joining him, but other musical star of the era will–Brian Poole of The Tremeloes (“Do You Love Me” and “Twist And Shout”) and Brian Hyland (“Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini”).

“You never get tired of the buzz of touring,’ says Noone, ‘and it’s good to know we can still pull an audience. People come up to me and sing all the old songs to my face, although I’m never really sure how to respond to that.”

Noone has lived in California since the 70’s and grew quickly to the healthy living style that characterizes the state.

“Not many people survived the debauchery of the sixties,” he says, “so I feel very lucky and try to look after myself. When I went to Mickie Most’s funeral nine years ago [Most was the band’s producer and a panelist on TV talent show New Faces], there weren’t many people left. It does make you stop and think.”

Flickr / Bradford Timline

“I remember going to the house of one of the Moody Blues and it was considered this real den of iniquity,” he says. “None of the girls smoked dope, so I used to hang out with them. I was a fly on the wall.

“I did like to drink — I used to go out with Richard Harris and try to drink more than him,” Noone laughed.

“I used to love the Beatles and the Stones and I’d always want to hang out with them, even though they were about seven years older.

“We’d go to the Ad Lib club in London, and John Lennon would buy my drinks because he knew I was only 16 and I wouldn’t get drunk and try to beat someone up.”

Noone, who grew up in Manchester, has admitted that one of his major motivations for drinking was to fit in with the others, as he didn’t feel that “interesting.”

It was at the age of 19 that the musician decided to attend his first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting with his father, also an avid drinker. 

“I wouldn’t have classed myself as an alcoholic, but you have to be sensitive to people’s feelings and be able to do the job on stage, so after that I decided to cut down. I needed to do it for my own sake and haven’t touched a drop for about 16 years.

“I insist that my wife still drinks if she wants to — I wouldn’t stop other people around me doing it.”

The multi-talented entertainer has been married to his wife, Mirielle, for 43 years. They met when Noone was 20, while he was still spending time with various women. 

“I think it was probably lust at first sight with Mireille,” he admits. “Then I found out how nice she was and it turned to love.

“She kept turning me down, but she was holidaying on Ibiza with her mum, so I rented the apartment next to them. Her mother liked me because I was respectful. I wore Mireille down.”

The couple married in 1968, had one daughter (Nicole), and Noone quit the band in 1971 at the age of 24. 

“Even though all of us in the band were close in the beginning, by the end, we’d been together so long and wanted to do different things.”

Flickr / Mark

His attempted solo career plateaued, and it was in the 80s that he took to a new stage, appearing in a Broadway production on “Pirates of Penzance” and as a host on the U.S. television music show “My Generation”.

Just a few years ago, he appeared as a mentor and voice coach on American Idol.

Speaking on the show, he said, “If the Beatles had entered a TV competition, they’d probably have lost. Simon Cowell seems like a very nice guy, but I think he’s a secondhand Mickie Most to be honest.”

Speaking on the current tour again, Noone explained, “‘I was probably going to be a clerk at the local NatWest. How lucky am I to still be doing this at 64? I know what I’m doing now, too. I’m not that shy little kid any more.”

My Daughter Ran Away from Our Shed Saying Someone Was Inside – I Checked and Called My Husband Immediately

When my daughter Cinthy ran into the house, screaming about something in our shed, I went to investigate and called my husband immediately for help. What I discovered hiding inside changed our lives forever, leading us down a path filled with shocking revelations and unexpected new bonds.

I left work in a hurry, eager to pick up Cinthy from Linda’s place. Linda had been our nanny ever since Cinthy was a baby. She couldn’t have children of her own, so she poured all her love into caring for Cinthy.

When I arrived, Linda was playing chess with Cinthy, delighting in her skillful gameplay.

A woman and young girl paying chess | Source: Pexels

A woman and young girl paying chess | Source: Pexels

“Hi, Clara,” Linda greeted me with a warm smile. “Cinthy’s been a delight, as always.”

“Thanks, Linda. Ready to go home, sweetheart?” I asked Cinthy.

“Yeah, Mommy!” Cinthy chirped, grabbing her sling bag.

Little girl with her bag | Source: Pexels

Little girl with her bag | Source: Pexels

As we walked home, Cinthy chattered about her day at school. Once we arrived, I set her to play outside while I started making dinner.

I was chopping vegetables when I heard a piercing scream. Cinthy burst through the kitchen door, eyes wide with terror.

“Mommy! There’s something in the shed!”

A woman preparing a meal | Source: Pexels

A woman preparing a meal | Source: Pexels

I dropped the knife and crouched down to her level. “What did you see, honey?”

“I… I don’t know. Something moved in there.”

I glanced outside, then back at Cinthy. “Stay here,” I instructed firmly. I grabbed my phone and headed to the shed, my heart pounding.

The shed was old and creaky. I opened the door slowly, peering into the dim light. The air smelled musty, like old wood and dirt.

A hand opening a shed door | Source: Pexels

A hand opening a shed door | Source: Pexels

As I stepped inside, I noticed the cellar hatch closing. My first reaction was that it must be a burglar intent on stealing the garden tools and whatever else we had stored in there.

“Hello?” I called out. “Who’s there?”

No answer. I strained to hear any sounds but there was only silence. My mind whirled with possibilities. I quickly locked the shed door from the outside and ran back to the house.

A woman inside a garden shed | Source: Freepik

A woman inside a garden shed | Source: Freepik

I dialed my husband, James, who was away on a business trip. He picked up immediately.

“Clara? What’s wrong?”

“I think there’s someone robbing our shed, James! They ducked down into the cellar when I went in to investigate. I locked the door to the shed, what should I do now?”

“Clara, call the cops right away. Don’t go near there. Be careful. I’ll catch the next flight home, but call me back as soon as the police get there.”

A woman looks at her cell phone | Source: Pexels

A woman looks at her cell phone | Source: Pexels

I hung up and dialed 911. “Hello, I think someone has broken into my garden shed at 122 Vine. I need a patrol car to come immediately!”

The operator assured me help was on the way. I turned to Cinthy, who was clinging to my leg. “It’s okay, sweetie. The police are coming.”

Minutes later, two officers arrived. I led them to the shed and unlocked the door. They entered cautiously, flashlights sweeping the darkness. One of them lifted the cellar hatch and shone her light down.

A male and female police officer | Source: Pexels

A male and female police officer | Source: Pexels

Minutes later, two officers arrived. I led them to the shed and unlocked the door. They entered cautiously, flashlights sweeping the darkness.

“Ma’am, please stay back. We need to check this out,” one officer said, his hand hovering over his holster. “If it’s a burglar, they might be armed and dangerous.”

They moved towards the cellar hatch, one of them lifting it slowly. “Ready?” he asked his partner.

“Ready,” she replied, her flashlight steady.

A bed in a basement room | Source: Pexels

A bed in a basement room | Source: Pexels

The beam of light cut through the darkness, and the officer froze. “Wait, they’re just kids,” she said, her voice full of surprise. “It’s okay, kids. We’re here to help you.”

Two boys, no older than twelve, emerged. They were dirty and thin, their eyes wide with fear. I noticed makeshift beds and empty cans of beans in the cellar. They had been living there, surviving on what little they could find.

“Please don’t send us back,” one of them pleaded. “We can’t go back to that place.”

A police officer addresses a young boy | Source: Pexels

A police officer addresses a young boy | Source: Pexels

The officer knelt down. “What are your names?”

“Joe,” the boy replied. “And this is my twin brother, Stan.”

Looking at the two boys, my heart ached. “Why were you hiding in our shed?”

Joe looked at Stan before speaking. “We ran away from the home. The people there are mean to us.”

A police officer taking notes | Source: Pexels

A police officer taking notes | Source: Pexels

I looked at the officers. “What will happen to them now?”

“We’ll take them to the station,” one said. “We need to contact this home and get them checked out.”

“Can I come with them?” I asked.

The officer hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, but we need to get them to the hospital first.”

A medical professional | Source: Pexels

A medical professional | Source: Pexels

I turned to the boys. “I’ll stay with you, okay?”

Joe nodded, tears brimming in his eyes. “Thank you.”

As we walked to the police car, Cinthy tugged at my sleeve. “Mommy, can they stay with us?”

I looked at the officers. “Is that possible?”

“We’ll see,” one replied. “For now, let’s get them the help they need.”

An old house | Source: Pexels

An old house | Source: Pexels

At the hospital, the boys were checked by doctors. They were malnourished but otherwise fine. I stayed with them, sitting in the waiting room and holding their hands.

The police found the so-called “home” the boys described, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that sending them back there was a bad idea.

The next day, I took Cinthy to school and then drove to the home. The building was cold and unwelcoming. The director, Adam, greeted me with a forced smile.

“Mrs. Thompson, I understand you found two of our wards,” he said.

A sinister-looking man | Source: Pexels

A sinister-looking man | Source: Pexels

“Yes, Joe and Stan. They said they ran away because of mistreatment.”

His smile faltered. “They’re troubled boys. They don’t adjust well.”

“Is that so?” I replied. “I’d like to see where they’ve been living.”

He hesitated, then led me through dimly lit hallways. The rooms were crowded with un-made beds and the place had a generally depressed air about it. I felt a surge of anger.

Depressing looking room | Source: Freepik

Depressing looking room | Source: Freepik

Back at home, I discussed everything with Linda and her husband, Peter. “Those boys can’t stay there,” I said. “We have to do something.”

Linda nodded, her eyes teary. “Peter and I have been talking. We want to foster them. But we don’t have much.”

“Whatever you need, we’ll help,” I promised.

The next few weeks were a blur of paperwork and meetings. We faced resistance from Adam, who insisted the boys were better off at the “home.”

A pair of blond boys | Source: Pexels

A pair of blond boys | Source: Pexels

But we were determined. Cinthy and I visited Joe and Stan regularly, bringing them homemade meals and spending time with them.

One evening, while we were there, I overheard Adam arguing with a social worker. “We’re under investigation, but those kids are lying!”

I pulled the social worker aside. “What’s happening?”

She sighed. “We’ve had reports of neglect. We’re trying to find new homes for all the children here.”

Two women talking | Source: Freepik

Two women talking | Source: Freepik

Then, Joe was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. This was the last straw. I contacted a lawyer and threatened Adam with legal action and media exposure.

As the investigation continued, more about the sinister operations of the home came to light. Adam and his wife, Julia, ran the place as an income generation scheme. They fostered as many children as they could, claiming government grants, but kept most of the money for themselves.

A young boy has his temperature measured | Source: Pexels

A young boy has his temperature measured | Source: Pexels

I confronted Adam and Julia one last time. “How could you do this to these kids?”

Julia sneered. “They’re just orphans. No one cares.”

“Well, I care. And I’ll make sure everyone knows what you’ve done.”

With the help of the lawyer and the social worker, we ensured Joe and Stan were removed from that awful place. The news of the home’s neglect spread, and other children were rescued and placed in better care.

Disheveled children | Source: Pexels

Disheveled children | Source: Pexels

Linda and Peter finally welcomed Joe and Stan into their home. They were safe, loved, and starting to heal. I continued to support them, knowing this was just the beginning of a new chapter for all of us.

One evening, I visited Linda and Peter’s house. The boys were settling in nicely, their faces brighter and more hopeful. Cinthy, Joe, and Stan were playing together in the living room.

Children playing chess together | Source: Pexels

Children playing chess together | Source: Pexels

At dinner, we all sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. As we ate, I noticed Joe pushing his food around on his plate, a small grin forming on his face.

“Everything okay, Joe?” I asked.

He looked up, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I was just wondering… do you have any more of those canned beans? You know, the ones from the shed?”

A family enjoying a meal together | Source: Pexels

A family enjoying a meal together | Source: Pexels

We all laughed, the tension easing from the room. It was the first time I’d seen him joke about their ordeal.

“I think we can find something a little better than canned beans,” Peter said, chuckling.

Joe nodded, his grin widening. “Just checking.”

After dinner, we gathered in the living room. I looked at Joe and Stan, their faces glowing with the warmth of family.

A boy at a family dinner table | Source: Pexels

A boy at a family dinner table | Source: Pexels

“You have a family now,” I told them. “A real family who loves you and will take care of you.”

Joe’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Clara. For everything.”

“No need to thank me. Just be happy and safe,” I replied, my heart swelling with emotion.

As I watched them interact, I felt a sense of peace. These boys had been through so much, but they were resilient. With the love and support of Linda, Peter, and all of us, they had a chance to build a better future.

Woman talking to little boy | Source: Pexels

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