U2’s fans get up close and personal at T&M

Kirk Baird

Monday, Nov. 19, 2001 | 8:17 a.m.

It was a few hours before the concert Sunday night at the Thomas & Mack Center. The crowds had gathered early.

Some fans milled around just outside the auditorium watching local bands or checking out tour merchandise.

Others hung around their cars in makeshift tailgate fashion and blared U2 music from overtaxed speakers.

But this was no ordinary concert, and this was no ordinary band. This was U2.

Which is why Julie Howe, 25, leaves her London home to follow the band whenever she can. So far she's seen 17 U2 concerts on the Elevation 2001 Tour -- counting Sunday night's show -- with more to follow. Same for Samantha Dornick, 29, of Pittsburgh, who has watched the band perform on 24 occasions on this tour alone.

Both Howe and Dornick are among a group of about 15 ultra-U2 fans who are spending vacation time -- and lots of cash -- on the band's world tour, which includes shows in North America and Europe.

The reason for the ardent commitment is simple.

"They're the top band in the world," Dornick said.

And at 9 p.m., shortly after U2 took the stage, Dornick seemed right.

Performing an emotional set for the next two hours that kept the sellout crowd out of its seats the entire show, Bono & Co. were in top form.

Judging by onstage comments by Bono, as well as song selection and the overall tone of the show, U2 is clearly still affected by the tragic events of Sept. 11.

"The emotions of the band have changed," Dornick acknowledged.

For example, she said in a recent New York City concert there were moments when the songs reduced both she and the audience to tears.

"Grown men started crying," Dornick said. "You don't expect that."

As a result, some of U2's hits, such as "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and "Please," have taken on new meanings, and not just for Dornick. U2 and its legion of fans seem to have a stronger connection than ever before.

Some fans, such as Troy Thielet, 34, of Phoenix, along with about 50 others, gathered outside the tunnel entrance to the Thomas & Mack after the show to catch a glimpse of band members as they got into their cars and were whisked away.

Thielet talked of meeting the band at a previous post-concert event and how down-to-earth it was.

"My wife got to hug Bono," he said proudly.

Meanwhile a few feet away, three fans from Edmonton, Alberta, held up a banner the members of U2 had signed at a previous concert. The devotees wanted U2 to again see the banner.

They weren't disappointed.

Sudden screams of excitement indicated U2 was about to leave the building. Quickly a crowd of onlookers crowded against a chain-link fence to see, talk and maybe even touch their idols.

While the band's supporters didn't get to see all four members, they did get Bono, who made his way to the end of the fence and signed autographs and chatted with well-wishers for a few minutes.

One woman dropped her ticket in the hopes that Bono would retrieve it and give it back.

No such luck. The singer never saw the ticket nor heard her cries that she'd been waiting for a long time to talk with him.

A few minutes later, a twentysomething woman had clearly had better luck, as she spun in circles in delirious enthusiasm.

"I gave him my book," she said with a smile. "A book I wanted him to have."

Before she could answer what that book was, she was whisked away by a friend, and the two danced off in celebration.

And who could blame them? After all, this was U2.

archive