
A Night of Legends: Sir Ringo Starr and His All-Starr Band Light Up Omaha
This past weekend, something extraordinary happened in Omaha, Nebraska. Beneath a warm summer sky in Memorial Park, music lovers from all walks of life gathered not just for a concert, but for a memory they’ll carry for the rest of their lives. The event? A free show — yes, free — featuring none other than Sir Ringo Starr and his All-Starr Band.
It’s hard to put into words just how rare and special a night like this was. A former Beatle — one of the final living legends of rock’s golden era — performing on a public stage, under the stars, in the heartland of America. No stadium prices. No corporate glitz. Just music, memories, and magic.
The crowd? Officials say it drew well over 100,000 — though anyone who was there might tell you it felt like more. Families, young couples, teenagers in Beatles shirts, grandparents who remembered the Ed Sullivan days — they all packed into Memorial Park like pilgrims on sacred ground. People brought folding chairs, picnic blankets, and coolers, but once the music started, no one stayed seated for long.
Ringo Starr, now 84, might no longer have the physical bounce of his Beatles days, but you’d never know it from his energy on stage. He smiled, joked, flashed peace signs, and — of course — kept that iconic rhythm steady behind the kit. His voice? Still unmistakably Ringo. A little more gravel, maybe, but that only added to the charm.
His All-Starr Band is more than just a backing group — it’s a traveling supergroup of classic rock royalty. Steve Lukather (Toto), Edgar Winter, Colin Hay (Men at Work), Hamish Stuart (Average White Band), Gregg Bissonette, and Warren Ham all brought their own timeless hits and dazzling musicianship. The format is simple: Ringo sings a few, they each sing a few, and together they create something unforgettable.
The setlist was a love letter to decades of rock:Ringo classics like “Photograph,” “It Don’t Come Easy,” and the sing-along anthem “With a Little Help from My Friends.”Colin Hay had the crowd swaying to “Who Can It Be Now?” and “Down Under.”Steve Lukather shredded through “Rosanna” and “Africa” to thunderous applause.Edgar Winter lit the place up with “Frankenstein,” turning the park into a pulsing, psychedelic wonderland.
The joy was infectious. Every time Ringo flashed that peace sign, the crowd erupted. Parents lifted their kids onto shoulders to get a glimpse. Elderly couples danced in the grass. Strangers became friends in a shared wave of nostalgia and celebration.
And it wasn’t just the music that made the night special. There was something profoundly moving about seeing someone like Ringo — a man who once helped change the entire world with a drumbeat — standing before a Midwestern crowd, laughing and playing like it was still 1964.
Between songs, he kept it light. “Peace and love,” he said, as he always does. But when you hear it from Ringo — especially in today’s world — it doesn’t feel like a catchphrase. It feels like a mantra. A reminder of what music can do, and why it still matters.

The park glowed with phone lights and lighters during the final songs. When Ringo and the band closed the night with “Give Peace a Chance,” the voices of tens of thousands echoed through the trees and the Omaha sky. It didn’t matter where you were standing — in the front row or the farthest edge of the crowd — in that moment, you were in it. A part of something pure.
There are concerts, and then there are events. This was the latter. A celebration of music’s power to unite generations. A reminder of what the world gained through four boys from Liverpool — and what still shines from the last ones standing.
In a summer of noise, cynicism, and chaos, Ringo Starr brought something different to Omaha: joy. Simple, unfiltered joy. A night of peace and love, of hits and harmony, of memories made beneath a Midwestern sky.
So go ahead, try to find a more enchanting evening. But you’ll be hard-pressed to top this one. Because for one free, unforgettable night in Omaha, time stopped — and the beat went on.