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.”
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?
“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.”
“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.”
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.”
As a Mother of Two, I Dreamed of Adopting a Third Until My MIL Forced Me to Leave Home with My Kids — Story of the Day
I thought adopting a child would complete our family, but nothing prepared me for the challenges that followed. Just when everything seemed to fall apart, an unexpected turn changed our lives forever.
Recently, my husband Mark and I unanimously decided to adopt a child. It wasn’t a decision we made lightly, but it felt deeply right. Our home had love to spare, and I knew our family had room for one more soul.
Emily and Jacob, our two beloved children, caught on to our excitement right away. They were chattering about their “new sister” every day.
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“Do you think she likes soccer?” Jacob asked as he kicked a ball around the yard.
Emily rolled her eyes. “She probably likes dolls, Jacob. She’s six, not a boy.”
“She can like both,” I interjected with a laugh, loving their playful banter.
Earlier that day, Mark and I met Evie for the first time. A petite six-year-old with chestnut hair and solemn eyes, she held a worn teddy bear tightly, like it was her lifeline.
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered to Mark as we left the meeting.
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“She’s got a kind soul. You can just tell.”
The warmth of that moment lingered, and I held onto it as we returned home. I couldn’t wait to see her playing with Emily and Jacob, laughing around the dinner table. Everything felt perfect until the family dinner with my MIL, Barbara.
It began innocently enough. Barbara passed me the salad bowl, chatting about the neighbor’s new puppy. Then, her tone shifted.
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“So,” she began, eyeing Mark, “I hear you two are thinking about adopting.”
I smiled, setting my fork down. “We are. Her name is Evie. She’s six…”
“Someone else’s child?” Barbara interrupted, her voice sharp. She glanced between us, her expression unreadable. “You’re serious?”
“Of course we are,” Mark said, but his voice lacked conviction. My heart sank.
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Barbara leaned back in her chair. “I just don’t see how a stranger can ever truly be part of this family. Blood ties are what keep us together. Not some orphan.”
The room fell silent. Emily and Jacob, usually giggling through dinner, froze in their seats. My hands tightened around my napkin, but I forced myself to stay calm.
“Family isn’t about blood,” I said firmly. “It’s about love and commitment.”
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Barbara shrugged. “That’s easy to say, Sarah, but I’ve seen it fail. I just think you should consider the consequences.”
“Mom,” Mark said quietly, “we’ve already made our decision.”
Her sharp gaze turned to him. “Have you? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re entirely sure.”
I glanced at Mark, hoping he’d respond, but he just stared down at his plate. The silence was deafening.
That night, Mark was distant. He didn’t join Emily and Jacob for their bedtime story. Instead, he wandered the house, his footsteps heavy.
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“Mark?” I called softly from the living room. “Are you okay?”
“I just… I don’t know, Sarah. Maybe Mom has a point. What if this is too much for us?”
I stepped closer. “Mark, you were so sure before. What’s changed?”
He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. I need time to think.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. As I went upstairs to check on the kids, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Barbara’s words had planted a dangerous seed of doubt in Mark’s heart.
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***
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, but the brightness only highlighted the heavy mood in the house. The day we had been waiting for—the day we were supposed to bring Evie home—was here. But instead of excitement, a cold tension hung in the air.
Mark stood by the front door, arms crossed, his face unreadable. I approached him with a smile, clutching the list of things I had prepared for Evie’s arrival. But his words stopped me cold.
“I’ve changed my mind, Sarah. I don’t want to go through with this.”
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“What?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “What are you saying?”
“I just don’t think it’s the right decision. I can’t do this.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The betrayal stung, sharp and deep, but as the silence stretched between us, something inside me shifted. A clarity I hadn’t felt before settled over me.
“You might have changed your mind,” I said slowly, “but I haven’t. Evie is waiting for us, Mark. She’s been promised a family, and I can’t let her down.”
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“You’re being irrational,” he said, his voice rising. “You’re dragging the kids into this. You’re making a mistake!”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned, grabbed my keys, and began packing a bag for myself and the children. Emily and Jacob watched me quietly, their eyes wide, sensing the tension but saying nothing.
Minutes later, I was buckling them into the car as Mark stood on the porch, shouting something about how I was taking his children away. I didn’t look back. My heart was set.
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The only place I could think to go was my late mother’s house—a small, run-down property that had been sitting empty for years. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a beginning. And for Evie, I would make it work.
***
The first floor was livable after hours of scrubbing, sweeping, and airing out the musty rooms. It was enough for the first time. I focused on turning the space into a cozy retreat for us.
“Mom, what are you doing up there?” Jacob called from the living room as I carried an old mop and bucket to the second floor.
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“Just a little magic,” I replied, peeking my head over the banister with a smile. “You’ll see when it’s done.”
“Can we help?” Emily’s voice chimed in.
I shook my head gently. “Not this time, sweetie. Why don’t you and Jacob show Evie how to play hide and seek? I bet she’s never played it with such great hiders before.”
Emily immediately turned to Evie, who sat quietly on the couch, clutching her stuffed bear. “Come on, Evie! I’ll even let you hide first.”
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“Yeah, but don’t pick my spot,” Jacob teased, puffing his chest dramatically. “I’ve got the best hiding places in the whole house.”
Evie looked up at them hesitantly, her small hands gripping the bear tighter. “I… I don’t know,” she murmured.
Emily crouched beside her. “It’s really fun. I’ll hide with you the first time if you want. We can be a team.”
A tiny smile flickered across Evie’s face. “Okay.”
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“That’s the spirit!” Jacob whooped, already darting toward the hallway. “Let’s see if Mom can find us when she’s done building her tower upstairs!”
I chuckled at his imagination as I climbed to the second floor. From above, I could hear their giggles and footsteps as they dashed around.
Emily’s voice called out playful instructions, and Evie’s laughter finally joined theirs. It was a sound I was holding my breath to hear.
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Hours later, after the kids had worn themselves out and fallen asleep after pizza, I stood in the dimly lit kitchen, warming my hands with a mug of tea. The day went better than I’d hoped. Evie had played, smiled, and even laughed. She began to trust us.
I tiptoed into my room, careful not to wake the children. As I sank onto the bed, the tears came, hot and unrelenting.
Mark’s absence felt like a shadow over everything. I stared at the cracks in the ceiling, whispering to myself in the darkness.
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“Am I doing this right? Is this enough?”
In those moments of doubt, I turned to social media as a way to cope. It started simply—a few posts sharing the highs and lows of adjusting to our new life, more for myself than anyone else.
Writing helped me process my thoughts, giving my feelings a place to land. But something unexpected happened.
Strangers, mostly mothers, began commenting on my posts. They shared their own stories, offered advice, and sent words of encouragement.
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“You’re doing an amazing thing,” one woman wrote.
“Stay strong. It’s hard, but it’s worth it,” said another.
The messages poured in, and then, people started showing up in real life.
It started with a knock at the door one morning. When I opened it, a woman stood there with a basket of groceries.
“I read your post,” she said with a kind smile. “I just wanted to help.”
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Another day, a man arrived with a toolbox in hand. “I heard about your house. Mind if I fix that front step? It’s a little wobbly.”
Soon, our little house was buzzing with activity. People brought toys for the kids, blankets to keep us warm, and even fresh paint to brighten the walls. I wasn’t alone.
After several active days and fewer tearful nights, Mark finally wrote. He wanted to meet.
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***
The hum of a car pulling into the driveway broke the afternoon stillness. My heart skipped as I set down the laundry basket and peeked through the curtain.
Mark stepped out, his shoulders slumped, his face lined with exhaustion. He wasn’t the same man who had walked away weeks ago. I met him at the door, unsure what to say.
“I’m ashamed of myself, Sarah,” he said. “Ashamed of how I let my mother’s fears control me. Ashamed of leaving you to carry this burden alone. You did what I should’ve done. You didn’t give up.”
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“I didn’t have a choice, Mark,” I said quietly. “Evie needed us. She still does.”
He nodded, his eyes meeting mine for the first time. “I know. And I’m here now. I want to make this right.”
Forgiveness didn’t need to be spoken. It was in the way he rolled up his sleeves and got to work the very next day.
Together, we finished the repairs on the house. Mark worked tirelessly, fixing the roof and building sturdy shelves while I painted and organized.
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Evie’s laughter rang through the halls as Emily and Jacob pulled her into their games. For the first time in weeks, the house felt alive.
A few weeks later, Barbara visited. She didn’t say much, but I watched her hand Evie a small brooch, something she treasured. I saw her walls begin to crumble.
When the house was complete, Mark and I sat together on the porch, looking out at the yard where the kids played.
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Suddenly Mark turned to me. “What if we turned this place into a foster home? A real one. A safe haven for kids who need a family, even if it’s just for a little while.”
“Mark, that’s… that’s an incredible idea.”
He squeezed my hand. “Then let’s do it. Together.”
We both knew that family wasn’t about blood. It’s about love, choices, and fighting for the people you care about. And it’s always worth the fight.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I thought faking a fiancé would finally let me step out of my sister’s shadow. But in the middle of my own scheme, I discovered that true love had been closer than I’d ever realized.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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