But there were the lucky few who saw it the way Ms. Supnik saw it, live, inside what was then known as CBS Studio 50, a former Broadway house that would later be renamed the Ed Sullivan Theater. CBS received 50,000 requests for 728 tickets, an acceptance rate of 1.45 percent. The odds of getting into an Ivy League college are better.

“The minute you got into the space, the electricity of the moment absolutely took you over,” said Tonne Goodman, now the fashion director for Vogue magazine, who went with a school friend whose father had gotten tickets. “You were captivated. You were swept away.”

Like Ms. Goodman’s friend, some in the audience had fathers with connections — fathers who could call someone who knew someone at the Sullivan show or at the network. A few had connections to the band — Ms. Supnik had met a lawyer for Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager. And some had simply written to CBS for tickets, which was the way most studio-audience tickets were distributed in those days.

Ira Gallen went because a friend from his Boy Scout troop in Brooklyn had sent a request for tickets months earlier. The week before the show, Mr. Sullivan announced who would appear when they would be in the audience.

“I had no idea who the Beatles were,” said Mr. Gallen, who was more interested in astronauts in those days. “I remember tons of girls, and that was it. But from that day on, I was buying the albums, and I bought a Ludwig set of drums, just like Ringo had, and I learned to play the drums. And I bought a Beatle wig. My father got angry. He said, ‘You bought that? It’s your mother’s birthday and you couldn’t buy her a gift, but you bought that?’ ”