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                     Elvis' Father Expresses Thanks

 
By James Kingsley From the Archives of The Commercial Appeal August 20, 
1977 


After three days of privately grieving the loss of his son, Vernon 
Presley Friday searched for words to thank the world for its concern. 
"It lightened my grief somewhat as I watched the tributes to my son 
that were shown from people throughout the world," said the 62-year-old, 
white-haired Presley, "But as everyone must know, I would rather have my 
son Elvis." 
Presley appeared tired as he talked in the large den in the rear of 
Graceland Mansion. He wore sport clothes and tried to relax as he 
attempted to put the week's events into perspective. It was not easy. 
"I am very sorry that all of the people who came to Memphis were not 
able to view the body, but there was not enough time," he said. "I was 
afraid that it would become more dangerous as the night wore on for the 
safety of the thousands of people that had come to Memphis to pay their 
tributes. 
"I would like to express my sincere and deepest sympathy to the families 
of the girls in the very unfortunate and regrettable thing that happened 
at the gate. We want the families to understand." 
(Miss Alice Hovatar and Miss Joanne Johnson, both of Monroe, La., were 
killed by an automobile early Thursday morning while standing in a 
no-traffic lane in front of Graceland. Tammy Baiter, 17, of St. Clair, 
Mo., was still in critical condition Friday night at Methodist Hospital 
from injuries in the wreck.) 
Presley also praised law enforcement officers for their efforts. 
"The funeral arrangements were all handled beautifully. I would like 
to thank the Shelby County Sheriff's Department, the Memphis Police 
Department and other officers for the way they handled all of the 
traffic problems," he said. 
And for the hundreds of journalists from all over the world who covered 
the funeral, Presley said: "You were most gracious. It is hard for me to 
put into words my thoughts at this time. But I do want you to know my 
feelings. 
"I would like to take this opportunity to thank each member of the press, 
including the newspapers, radio, television and magazines, for their 
consideration to our family and friends during our sorrow after the 
death of my son, Elvis." 
Presley also touched on several areas in which speculation has arisen 
since his son's death. 
"Elvis did have a will and the attorneys will handle it next week," he 
said. "Elvis called me up to his suite at Graceland one night several 
months ago and asked me if I would have a will made up for him. We 
discussed it. Then I talked to the attorneys. It was drawn up. He 
approved it and it was signed and witnessed by three people and 
notarized." 
Presley said Graceland mansion, which was purchased by his son for 
$100,000 in 1957, would remain in the family. 
"I will assume that the rest of my life I will keep it intact," said 
Presley, who lives at 1266 Dolan. "My plan is to keep Graceland as long 
as it is physically or otherwise possible." 
Living at Graceland now are Mrs. Delta Mae Bigg, the elder Presley's 
sister, and Mrs. Minnie Presley, 85, who is Elvis' grandmother. Also 
living there is Charlie Hodge, who played guitar on stage for Elvis. 
The mansion also has three maids and two cooks. 
Presley said the family may build its own mausoleum if the flow of 
tourists disrupts the privacy of relatives of other persons entombed 
there. 
"The possibilities exist, but I don't think so now since we were able to 
get a room in a very nice location," he said. "If it becomes too congested 
for the other people, however, we may build our own at Forest Hill 
(Cemetery Midtown)." 
He also said he may move the vault of Mrs. Gladys Presley, Elvis' mother 
who died in 1958 and who is buried at Forest Hill about a quarter of a 
mile from the mausoleum that holds Elvis. 
"That possibility also exists, but I don't know when," he said. "I think 
it might make Elvis happy if he had known." 
Presley recalled his son's courtship of Miss Ginger Alden, the 
20-year-old, dark-haired beauty who said she and Elvis had planned to 
marry either Dec. 25 or Jan. 8, Elvis' birthday. 
"I mentioned to my son Elvis one time about the possibilities of 
remarrying and Elvis told me, `Only God knows that," Presley said. 
"I knew he had gotten engaged, but to my knowledge no date had been set..."
 
Ironically, the couple had discussed wedding arrangements in the wee hours 
of Tuesday morning, Miss Alden said Thursday night. She said the engagement
was to be announced at Elvis' Memphis concert Aug. 27. 
The elder Presley then discussed his son's final day. He said his sister, 
Mrs. Biggs, took Elvis some water and the morning newspaper as he relaxed 
in his room about 8:30 a.m. Tuesday. 
"He told me he was going to get up that night and then leave at 11:30 p.m. 
or midnight for the tour," which was to open in Portland, Maine, Wednesday 
night, Mrs. Biggs said Friday. "He was happy and walking around talking 
about the upcoming tour. He was in a jovial and happy mood." 
Elvis' father said he and road manager Joe Esposito were in an office 
behind the mansion discussing the tour that morning. He said Esposito 
later went into the house. 
"Joe called me between 2:15 p.m. and 2:30 p.m., I think, and told me I 
should come upstairs because something had happened," Presley said, "I 
went upstairs and we started giving Elvis mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, 
but I thought it was probably too late.
"I looked at Elvis and I realized it was probably a helpless situation 
but it was so hard to believe it had happened." 
A short time later, an ambulance rushed the singer to Baptist Hospital 
where he was pronounced dead at 3:30 p.m. 
It was Monday evening, less that 24 hours earlier, that Elvis spoke his 
final words to his father. 
"I told Elvis, `I think I'll just go with you on this tour," Presley said. 
"Then Elvis said, 'Fine. The more the merrier."
James Kingsley was a general assignment reporter for The Commercial Appeal 
in 1977. A native of Tupelo, Miss., and an Elvis confidant, he retired 
from the newspaper in April, 1995, and died five months later after a 
long illness. 
___________________________________________________________________________

          Esposito Sees Friendship As The 'Real' Elvis Story

By Lawrence Buser August 20, 1977

Joe Esposito, road manager and friend of Elvis Presley for nearly 20 years, 
since their days in the U.S. Army in West Germany, talked Friday about the 
entertainer's death but still had difficulty accepting it. 
"I'm sitting here talking to you about something I didn't think I would 
ever talk about, at least not at this point in my life," Esposito said in 
an interview from Graceland. "No one believes it yet and probably won't 
for a long time." 
Esposito was one of a handful of people at the mansion where Presley was 
found Tuesday afternoon by his fiancee, Miss Ginger Alden. 
Esposito's account of the final day of Elvis' life followed that given 
Thursday night by Miss Alden, the last person to see the singer alive. 
He said no one initially suspected Presley was dead when he was found in 
a second-floor bathroom. 
"At the time Ginger found him she thought he had just collapsed. She 
didn't know he was dead," said Esposito, who was talking to Elvis 
bodyguard Al Strada in the downstairs kitchen when summoned by Miss 
Alden. "I went to pick Elvis up because I thought he had fainted but 
then I realized he was not breathing. I don't know how long he had been 
there." 
Esposito said Elvis probably had gone into the bathroom to read so he 
would not keep Miss Alden awake with a light in the bedroom. 
Miss Alden said Thursday that Presley often had difficulty sleeping as a 
tour approached but that she noticed nothing unusual about him early 
Tuesday morning. 
It was not until about 2:20 Tuesday afternoon that Elvis was found, some 
six hours after he spoke his last words to Miss Alden, who said she slept 
most of the day. 
Esposito said it was not strange that no one in the often-congested 
mansion missed Elvis during the hours he was in the bathroom. 
"No one would be up in his bedroom when he was (expected to be) asleep," 
he said. "I just happened to walk into the house to talk to Al when Ginger 
said something was wrong with Elvis." 
After frantic efforts to revive Elvis failed, Esposito said he called an 
ambulance; Dr. George C. Nichopoulos, who was Presley's private physician, 
and Vernon Presley, the singer's father who was in a downstairs office. 
He said emergency efforts to revive Presley continued while ambulance 
attendants raced to the scene after receiving the emergency call at 2:33 
p.m. Esposito said Nichopolous arrived as Presley was being placed in the 
ambulance and that he joined them in the ride to Baptist Hospital. 
Nichopolous pronounced Presley dead at 3:30 p.m., leaving the 39-year-old 
Esposito to sort out the Presley empire. 
"I'm going to continue to stay here and help Mr. Presley arrange things 
so the company can go on," he said Friday. "Vernon is taking it pretty 
good, but I don't think he still realizes what has happened." 
Esposito dislikes talking of Presley's private life but said of Miss 
Alden: "I liked Ginger very much. She's a very, very nice woman. I think 
just like any other couple, they would quarrel. Just like I quarrel with 
my girl friend. Nothing unusual about that." 
The longtime Elvis partner said Presley did not use drugs, "none 
whatsoever."He said Elvis' former bodyguard Red West, who in a recent 
book attacked the singer's life-style as one filled with drugs and odd 
habits, must have been "very bitter" to write such a book. 
Why? 
"I don't know," Esposito said. "You'll have to ask Red West that question. 
All I know is that I would have never done it." 
He regretted that West was not alone in publicly tarnishing the image of 
Elvis.
"All you read about Elvis is the bad things," he said. "I guess people 
like to read that kind of stuff but I don't know why. I hope everybody in 
the world that wrote anything bad about Elvis gets a good night's sleep." 
He said none of Elvis' "real friends" has any plans for a book now but 
that if an accurate book of Presley's life was to be written, it should be 
a joint effort. 
He said he hoped one day those friends could put down their experiences 
with Elvis over the years and have writers put it together.
Said Esposito: "Now that would be the real story of Elvis Presley's life." 
'World's At Standstill' For Elvis' Fiancee
By Lawrence Buser August 19, 1977
Ginger Alden, the dark-haired beauty who in five months was to become the 
next Mrs. Elvis Presley, was still wearing her 11 1/2-carat diamond 
engagement ring as she recalled the final hours of the singer's life. 
"I said, 'Elvis,' and he didn't answer, so I opened his bathroom door 
and that's when I saw him in there," she said in a soft but steady voice 
Thursday night at her home. "I slapped him a few times and it was like he 
breathed once when I turned his head. I raised one of his eyes and it was 
just blood red but I couldn't move him." 
Miss Alden, wearing the black dress she wore only hours earlier to the 
funeral, said she wanted to convince herself Presley was not dead. She 
failed. 
"I thought at first he might have hit his head because he had fallen out 
of his black lounging chair and his face was buried in the carpet," said 
Miss Alden. 
"He said, 'I'm going into the bathroom to read,' (Tuesday morning) and 
that's the last thing he said to me. I didn't want to think he was dead. 
God wouldn't want to take him so soon." 
The moments of uncertainty began about 2:20 p.m. and passed like hours, 
Miss Alden said. She quickly summoned road manager Joe Esposito and Al 
Strada, a bodyguard, and Presley's personal physician, Dr. Nichopoulos. 
Earlier reports had been that Esposito was the first to find the singer's 
body. 
"When Joe turned his (Presley's) head over I think he knew he was dead 
because he didn't want me to see him and sent me into the other room," 
said Miss Alden. "It seemed like hours while we waited (after the 
ambulance left). Jo Smith (wife of Presley's cousin Billy Smith said, 
`Everywhere you look at Graceland it's him.' And that's the way I'm 
finding it at home. 
"It's like the whole world's at a standstill." 
She said the ambulance, which rushed Presley to Baptist Hospital, 
returned with Nichopoulos some time later. "He walked up to Mr. (Vernon) 
Presley and shook his head. He just said he was sorry." 
And so ended the waiting. 
Miss Alden and Presley had visited dentist Dr. Lester Hoffman Monday 
night and later had spent the evening at Graceland making plans for their 
marriage, which she said was to have been announced at Elvis' Aug. 27 
concert in Memphis. 
They played racketball on the grounds at Graceland with the Smiths until 
about 6 a.m. 
"Then we went back inside and I was ready to fall asleep," Miss Alden 
said. "I told him he needed to get some sleep too, but he said he couldn't 
sleep and went into the bathroom to read. It was a book on religion or 
psychology." 
Hours later she found the man she remembered as "a part of me" who 
proposed to her less than two months after they met in November, 1976. 
The proposal was an unusual one. It was in the lounge area of the 
bathroom. 
"It was like old-fashioned times...he was on his knees," Miss Alden said. 
"He asked me to marry him and I said `Yes,' so he pulled out a green 
velvet box with the ring in it." 
She said she would remember Elvis as a generous person who was easy to 
please. 
"I remember the deep love he had for everybody and his generosity in 
giving gifts," said Miss Alden, who first saw Presley when he patted her 
on the head at the Mid-South Fair in 1961. She was 5. Elvis was 26. "When 
he saw a lot of happiness on someone's face that was enough for him." 
Miss Alden said friends of Presley's had noted a change in him after they 
had met. 
"They always would come up to me and say, `You're what he's searched for 
for a long time,'" she recalled. "It gave me a wonderful feeling. I wanted 
to make him happy and I think I did." 
The night after Presley and Miss Alden met, the singer took her to se one 
of his planes at Memphis Aero. After a short look inside, Presley suggested
they go for a ride. She thought the ride was to Nashville but several hours
later she called her mother from Las Vegas. 
"It was such a thrill for me because I had never been West before," she 
said. "Then later he would sometimes introduce me as his girl friend at 
concerts. He'd say, 'Stand up...sit down' quickly because he'd say, 
`You're hogging the spotlight.'" 
Elvis often took Miss Alden's family and sisters on tour with him and in 
March took Ginger and her sisters, Miss Rosemary Alden and Miss Terry 
Jean Alden, to Hawaii for 10 days. 
"That was like heaven," she said, as Rosemary, who also was in the room 
Thursday night, nodded in agreement. "He played football and Ping Pong 
and later took us to see some native dances at a Hawaiian culture center." 
It was at the Alden residence that Elvis did his last singing on Saturday 
night, Aug. 6. The singing was mostly religious hymns, such as "How Great 
Thou Art." 
Mrs. Jo Alden, Ginger's mother, recalled the evening. 
"He was in such a wonderful mood," she said. "He has these hand 
expressions, sort of like karate type movements." 
Mrs. Alden, who said she never worried when her daughter was with Presley, 
also dreamed of what never was to be. 
"He said he was going to introduce her onstage next Saturday night at his 
concert in Memphis," she said. "He told her to look real special. It's so 
sad he didn't get time to announce it, instead of having us announce it." 
Ginger said she is not sure about her future but has no immediate plans 
for a book. 
"I don't think I could write anything now," she said. "Later, I don't 
know. If I did it would be only about the things that were good." 
Presley's Death Writes New Chapter in History
By William Thomas From the Archives of The Commercial Appeal August 21, 
1977
It was a crazy, mixed-up pinch-me-I-must-be-dreaming week of tragedy and 
love, foolishness and devotion, horror and tenderness, star-worship and 
grief, insight and confusion. 
It was the week that was in Memphis, and there will not be another like 
it. 
It was as sad as dead sons and as melodramatic as teenage girls' tears. 
It was as unsentimental as selling souvenir T-shirts on Elvis Presley 
Boulevard. 
It was as sweeping as the President of the United States saying we'd lost 
a symbol of our vitality, rebelliousness and good humor. 
It was as personal as a young girl saying her dream was gone. 
It was as goofy as a housewife walking out on her husband in Wisconsin and 
driving all night and all day so she could stand on a street corner and 
watch a white hearse go past. 
It was as strange as hearing a British radio voice announce, in tones full 
of the hush of history, that a "global disaster" had occurred. 
It was as touching as a woman journalist in Los Angeles getting out her 
old penny loafers and poodle skirts and writing, for all the world to 
see, that "for the first time I feel old." 
It was as dizzy as a rock and roll fan storming through a music store, 
grabbing up $140 worth of records like they were buttons off George 
Washington's Valley Forge uniform. 
It was as unrelenting as the crowds that still can be found near the 
house (Graceland) and the cemetery (Forest Hill Midtown). 
It was as incomprehensible as poor people refusing to cash in $25 
concert tickets that are now good for nothing but keepsakes. 
It was as loony as young girls offering to "trade their bodies" for a 
place inside the cemetery grounds during the funeral. 
It was as eerie as radio stations going silent in what seemed a curious 
sort of tribute. 
It was as bizarre as souvenir hunters asking not only for the flowers but 
for the leaves and pieces of Styrofoam that had been placed outside the 
tomb. 
It was the week that was - noisy, crowded, unexpected - and the man who 
gave away new Cadillacs on impulse probably would have appreciated it. 
Already, people were trying to fix it in their memories much as they did 
when John F. Kennedy was slain in 1963. 
Remember the ritual? Somebody would say, "Where were you when you heard 
Kennedy was dead?" And then you would tell them this elaborate story, 
full of incredible detail, that you had memorized in order to associate 
yourself with a moment that you knew was history. 
For the past three days, people have been telling each other where they 
were and what they were doing when they heard the news about Elvis. 
It is something they will not soon forget. And yet, few know just how 
it all began - or when. 
Actually, it began so innocently that it seemed not to have been a 
beginning at all. 
It was about 6 a.m. last Tuesday and they were playing racquetball 
behind the house at Graceland. 
The racquetball players were Elvis Presley, 42; his finance, Ginger 
Alden, 20; a cousin, Bill Smith; and the cousin's wife, Jo. 
Elvis and his fiancee (the sister of last year's Miss Tennessee) had 
been up all night. They both went to see a dentist, Dr. Lester Hoffman 
at 920 Estate, and they had not left his office until 1 a.m. or after. 
The reason they'd gone to the dentist at night was to avoid being mobbed 
by Elvis followers, who were always around. That night, Miss Alden had 
her teeth x-rayed and Elvis had a cavity filled. 
When they returned to Graceland, they went inside and talked over plans 
for their upcoming wedding, an event that was to have been announced 
publicly at a concert in Memphis Aug. 27. Although they'd not set a date, 
they talked about doing it Christmas or on Elvis' birthday, Jan. 8. 
Presley was restless. Miss Alden believed it was due partly to the dental 
work, partly to the impending wedding and partly to an 11-day concert 
tour scheduled to begin that very evening with a flight to Portland, 
Maine. She said Elvis was often edgy before a tour. 
So they talked about the wedding and they went in to see Elvis' 9-year-
old daughter, Lisa Marie, who was visiting him at the time. The child 
was born to Elvis' first wife, Priscilla Beaulieu, who divorced him in 
1973 after six years of marriage. 
After the game, Presley went upstairs to his bedroom and put on a pair of 
blue pajamas. But he still couldn't sleep. Miss Alden said he hold her, 
"I'm going to the bathroom to read." (Part of the bathroom is outfitted 
like a lounge.) 
He went into the bathroom, then closed the door behind him, and 
presumably, stretched out on a black lounge chair to read "a Jesus book." 
And that was it. 
The week that was had begun. 
For the next several hours, Miss Alden slept. It was 2 p.m. or after when 
she got up and went to look for Elvis. 
She stood outside the bathroom door and called his name. 
"He didn't answer, so I opened the bathroom door and that's when I saw him 
in there. I thought at first he might have hit his head because he had 
fallen out of his black lounging chair and his face was buried in the 
carpet. I slapped him a few times and it was like he breathed once when 
I turned his head. I raised one of his eyes and it was just blood red. But 
I couldn't move him." 
She rushed downstairs and alerted the maid and Al Strada, the bodyguard on 
duty at the time. Strada, in turn, got Joe Esposito, Elivis' road manager, 
and they all went back upstairs to the bedroom. 
"When Joe turned his head over," Miss Alden told The Commercial Appeal's 
Lawrence Buser, "I think he knew he was dead because he didn't want me to 
see him and sent me into the other room. Then they were beating on his 
chest, trying to revive him." 
Dr. George Nichopoulos, Presley's personal physician was called, as was an 
ambulance from Fire Engine House No. 29. 
The call came at exactly 2:33 p.m., and it was the first time that anyone 
outside the inner circle of Graceland knew that something was wrong. 
Charlie Crosby and Ulysses Jones, emergency medical technicians, answered 
the call. This how they remember it: 
"A car met us about halfway up the drive and we followed it to the house,
" Crosby said. "We went into the house an upstairs to Elvis' bedroom. We 
saw abut a dozen people downstairs and about a half-dozen or so upstairs. 
Then we saw Elvis lying face up on the bedroom floor. Dr. Nichopoulos was 
giving him cardiopulmonary resuscitation. 
"We assisted in giving him CPR and then transported him right away to 
Baptist Hospital. Dr. Nichopoulos and two people I didn't know rode with 
us in the ambulance to the hospital. It took us less than seven minutes. 
It was 20 minutes after that when he was officially pronounced dead." 
Elvis' father, Vernon, 62 knew it before it was official. This is how he 
tells it: 
"Joe (Esposito) called me between 2:15 p.m. and 2:30 p.m., I think, and 
told me I should come upstairs because something had happened. I went 
upstairs and we started giving Elvis mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but 
I thought it was probably too late. I looked at Elvis and I realized it 
was probably a helpless situation. But it was so hard to believe it had 
happened." 
Elvis was pronounced dead by Nichopoulos at 3:30 p.m., roughly an hour 
and 10 minutes after his body had been discovered on the floor of the 
bathroom. The hospital made the announcement public at 4 p.m. 
Although there had been rumors lately that Elvis was in poor condition - 
most of the reports dwelt on the fact he was overweight - there had been 
nothing to indicate he was suffering from anything serious and so hardly 
anybody really believed it when they first heard it. Later, a woman in 
the crowd outside Graceland said she wouldn't believe it until she saw 
Elvis' body and even then she wouldn't be surprised if it turned out to 
be an impersonator. 
Nevertheless, word of Elvis' death spread like a wind through this city 
where he had lived since the age of 13. Telephone switchboards were 
jammed. Radio and television programs were interrupted. Housewives heard 
about it in grocery stores. Downtown business people talked about it on 
buses going home that afternoon. And, all across the land, people stopped 
what they were doing, scrapped for crumbs of information, and, in many 
cases, simply got in their cars and started driving. 
For many people, Elvis' death altered the course of their own lives for 
the next four days. Besides the fans, themselves, these included 
policemen, newsmen, florists, security guards and funeral planners who 
worked around-the-clock until Saturday when things finally began 
returning to normal.
This is how the day-to day story unfolded: 
TUESDAY, Aug. 16 - Elvis Presley is pronounced dead, apparently of a 
heart attack, sometime between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m. Body is moved to Memphis 
Funeral Home on Union. Special seamless copper casket is flown in from 
Oklahoma City. 
WEDNESDAY, Aug. 17 - Clad in a white suit that had been a present from his 
father, Elvis' body is returned to Graceland where the public was allowed 
to view the body from 3 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. However, only a portion of the 
100,000 people that went to Graceland that day got to see Elvis before 
the gates were locked. 
THURSDAY, Aug. 18 - At 3:30 a.m., during an all-night vigil outside 
Graceland, two 19-year-old young women from Monroe, La., are killed when 
a car driven by a drunk-driving suspect plows into crowd. 
Private funeral conducted in music room, with about 200 people inside. 
Services are marked with gospel music, Bible readings, prayers, statements 
from two ministers. Procession led by white hearse and string of white 
Cadillacs leaves Graceland for Forest Hill Cemetery, with route lined by
mourners. Entombment in cemetery mausoleum at 4:30 p.m. Cemetery closed. 
All-night vigil. 
FRIDAY, Aug. 19 - Gates reopened at cemetery and 50,000 fans tour burial 
sites of Elvis and his mother, whose grave is located about 300 feet away. 
Funeral flowers, ribbons, leaves, and Styrofoam handed out as souvenirs. 
SATURDAY, Aug. 20 - Small crowds continue to visit Forest Hill and 
Graceland. T-shirts and souvenirs selling along Elvis Presley Boulevard. 
Bumper stickers appear saying, "Long Live the King."
___________________________________________________________________________
                  
                Legacy is cloudy through lens of race

By Christopher Blank August 18, 2002

In April 1957, Sepia magazine, a white-owned sensationalist monthly for 
black readers, took up a discussion as controversial then as it is today: 
the case of a white kid who adopted black music and became the most 
successful artist of his time. 
The headline: "HOW NEGROES FEEL ABOUT ELVIS." 
It begins: 
"As one of the most-debated subjects in the land, Elvis Presley arouses 
white-heat discussion everywhere. But among Negroes, the controversy over 
Elvis is even more explosive than among whites. Colored opinion about the 
hydromatic-hipped hillbilly from Mississippi runs the gamut from caustic 
condemnation to ardent admiration. 
"Some Negroes are unable to forget that Elvis was born in Tupelo, 
Mississippi, home town of the foremost Dixie race baiter, former 
Congressman Jon Rankin. Others believe a rumored crack by Elvis during a 
Boston appearance in which he is alleged to have said: "The only thing 
Negroes can do for me is shine my shoes and buy my records." 
And there it is. The first time ever that statement appeared in print, 
says Michael T. Bertrand, author of the book Race, Rock, and Elvis (2000, 
University of Illinois Press) and a Southern studies professor at the 
University of Mississippi in Oxford. 
"Each time I teach a new class on popular music and Southern history, 
I still have African-American students come up after class and say, 
'You know, I heard from my uncle what Elvis said.' So I eventually had 
to find where it came from." 
Twenty-five years after Elvis's death, people still want to know how 
black people feel about Elvis Presley. 
Was he just another white Southern racist? Was he an impostor or worse, 
a thief? 
Changing perceptions 
Many black artists have spoken out to honor the singer. From bluesman 
B. B. King to rapper Chuck D, these influential musicians are helping to 
change perceptions of Elvis. 
Elvis couldn't do it himself. 
Soon after the Sepia rumor started, Elvis broke his media silence for an 
exclusive interview in Jet, another magazine targeted at black readers. 
Some said he made the remark while in Boston. Elvis had never been to 
Boston. Others said they heard it on Edward R. Murrow's CBS TV show Person 
to Person. But after Elvis's manager Col. Tom Parker demanded an 
appearance fee, CBS balked and Elvis didn't go on the show. 
The Jet article of 1957 further confirmed what friends and associates 
knew about Elvis all along: He truly loved and respected black 
musicians. 
"A lot of people seem to think I started this business," he told Jet. 
"But rock n roll was here a long time before I came along. Nobody can 
sing that kind of music like colored people. Let's face it: I can't 
sing like Fats Domino can. I know that." 
Musicologists scoff at talk of a racist Elvis. A dirt-poor outcast at 
segregated Humes High School, he wore pink shirts and pomaded hair like 
the folks he admired down on Beale Street. 
He listened religiously to Memphis's black radio station WDIA and became 
friends with then-disc jockey B. B. King, who later defended him in 
Sepia: "What most people don't know is that this boy is serious about 
what he's doing. He's carried away by it. When I was in Memphis with my 
band, he used to stand in the wings and watch us perform. As for fading 
away, rock and roll is here to stay and so, I believe, is Elvis. He's 
been a shot in the arm to the business and all I can say is 'that's my 
man.' " 
Elvis attended black church services. Two early No. 1 hits - Don't Be 
Cruel and All Shook Up - were by black songwriter Otis Blackwell. 
Who's the real king? 
While Elvis rocketed to stardom, resentment grew among talented musicians 
whose similar-sounding records weren't getting the same play. The hip 
swiveling that merely disgusted conservative whites amounted to theft for 
blacks. More than one player laid claim to Elvis's gimmicks. 
Blues shouter Wynonie 'Mr. Blues' Harris told Sepia: "I originated that 
style 10 years ago. The current crop of shouters are rank impostors. They 
have no right to call themselves the kings of rock and roll. I am the king 
of rock and roll." 
In the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, guitarist Calvin New born said Elvis 
hung out in a black bar outside Memphis where he played. "He would sit 
there and watch me every Wednesday and Friday night," he said. "I'd wiggle 
my legs and swivel my hips and make love to the guitar." 
In 1956, the Amsterdam News said Elvis had "copied Bo Diddley's style to 
the letter." 
Flamboyant singer Little Richard pointed out stinging economic 
disparities: "Elvis was paid $25,000 for doing three songs in a movie 
and I only got $5,000, and if it wasn't for me, Elvis would starve." 
But Elvis also couldn't change the times. In the same month of the Sepia 
article, singer Nat King Cole was famously attacked onstage by five 
racists during a concert in Birmingham. The 3,000 white audience members 
booed the assailants, but did not intervene during the beating, which the 
men claimed was to protest "bop and Negro music." 
"It's unfortunate that Presley eventually became the white hero," 
Bertrand said, "because during his lifetime he represented the possibility 
of racial reconciliation." 
What Elvis believed 
Bertrand suggests that Elvis's song choices - such as If I Can Dream, 
Walk a Mile in My Shoes or In the Ghetto - revealed his true feelings. 
But the singer's move to Hollywood struck many as an abandonment of his 
musical roots. Credibility with struggling black musicians faded when 
Elvis jumped to the big screen. 
"When he first started out in his career, Presley blurred racial lines," 
Bertrand said. "But later on in his career he became, for lack of a better 
term, whiter. When he tried to become more middle class, he lost what 
people perceived were his black characteristics." 
After Elvis's death in August 1977, white America's continued idolization 
of the singer didn't ride well with many black people who, particularly 
during the 1980s, saw their contributions to pop music overlooked and 
underexposed. 
Continued resentment 
In 1990, anti-Elvis sentiment exploded from black artists. The group 
Living Colour lashed out against the music industry through their song 
Elvis Is Dead: "I've got a reason to believe/We all won't be received at 
Graceland." 
Raging against gang violence, poverty and inequality, rapper Chuck D of 
Public Enemy shouted what have become some of the group's most enduring 
lyrics. 
"Elvis was a hero to most/ but he didn't mean (expletive) to me you see/ 
Straight up racist, that sucker was simple and plain/ Mother (expletive) 
him and John Wayne/ Cause I'm black and I'm proud, I'm ready and hyped 
plus I'm amped/ Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps." 
Recently, Chuck D explained that his attack was against the Elvis whose 
roots were whitewashed by his legacy. 
"The Elvis that died wasn't the same Elvis that was coming up," Chuck D 
said. "They said he was king. Based on who and what? Based on the quality 
of the people judging or the quality of his music? What does 
'King of Rock and Roll' mean growing up in a black household? My Chuck 
Berry records are still in my house. Little Richard is still in the 
house. Otis Redding and James Brown. The King of what?" 
Losing perspective 
Memphis, Elvis's kingdom, is a near perfect reflection of the problems 
with the music industry and society at large. 
The Bluff City is known for its blues. Known for its soul. Known for 
B. B. King, Isaac Hayes, Aretha Franklin, Rufus and Carla Thomas, 
Booker T. & the MGs, Al Green and one of the most influential recording 
studios of all time: Stax. 
While Elvis shrines were popping up all over town, black contributions 
were being dismantled. The Stax recording studio was demolished in 1989. 
The same fate nearly befell one of the Civil Rights era's most important 
landmarks, the Lorraine Motel, where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was 
assassinated. 
As much as singer Mavis Staples loved Elvis and his music, his unbridled 
legacy bothered her. 
"What helped Elvis was that when he did interviews, he would tell that he 
got it from blacks," Staples said. "Now one thing that I could say for 
myself was that when I came back to Memphis after Stax closed, maybe 
about five years later, I only saw Elvis. And that's when I said, 'wait a 
minute.' Something should be out here about Stax. Just because it folded 
doesn't mean it didn't happen. And the people of Memphis should have 
remembered all of the music." 
Soul singer Isaac Hayes, back into the limelight after his stint as 
South Park's Chef, said he understands how Elvis's memory became 
entangled in broader issues of race. 
"Elvis was due the respect he had. No animosity. No sour grapes. Elvis 
was the man," he said. "The thing was that we didn't get what we 
(the black artists) deserved. Ignorance is one of the main things. 
Racism? It's one of the factors. I would say it took the whole world 
outside of Memphis to recognize what a treasure black Memphis had." 
Regaining perspective 
In the past 25 years, the world has improved for black people not only 
in the music industry, but in other areas as well. 
Again, Memphis exemplifies this. Graceland isn't the only tourist 
attraction anymore. 
The Rock and Soul Museum traces the history of the blues. The National 
Civil Rights Museum (which rescued the Lorraine Motel) depicts the 20th 
Century's great American struggle. And next April is the grand opening of 
the Stax Museum of American Soul Music on the original site. 
Folks in the music industry now have more respect for black artists, says 
Chuck D, including the new artists who seem to be walking in Elvis's 
shoes. 
If ever there were a modern parallel, white rapper Eminem is a shoo-in. 
Like Elvis, Eminem grew up poor and honed his gift by studying black 
music and culture. Like Elvis, he's popular with whites. Like Elvis, he's 
become one of the most successful in the business. And like Elvis, Eminem 
has caught the acting bug. His debut film 8 Mile premieres Nov. 8. 
Eminem doesn't hesitate to point out the irony on his latest album The 
Eminem Show, produced by rapper and mentor Dr. Dre. 
"I'm not the first king of controversy/I am the worst thing since Elvis 
Presley/To do black music so selfishly/ And use it to get myself wealthy 
(Hey)/ There's a concept that works." 
Chuck D, a founding father of hip-hop and pop musicologist, said that 
accepting Elvis, and by extension other white crossover artists, might be 
easier for black Americans now that black artists are getting more credit 
and exposure. 
Several years ago, the Fox TV network sent him to Graceland to do a 
black-perspective news story about Elvis. The assignment opened his eyes. 
"Elvis had to come through the streets of Memphis and turn out black 
crowds before he became famous," Chuck D said. "It wasn't like he cheated 
to get there. He was a bad-ass white boy. Just like Eminem is doing 
today. The thing about today is that Eminem has more respect for black 
artists and black people and culture today than a lot of black artists 
themselves. He has a better knowledge where it comes from. Elvis had a 
great respect for black folk at a time when black folks were considered 
niggers, and who gave a damn about nigger music?" 
The battle for Elvis's "soul" continues. The Disney cartoon Lilo & 
Stitch, one of the first Elvis-themed films to show minorities (in this 
case, Hawaiian natives) digging Elvis's music, is a step in dismantling 
the racist rumor and acquainting a young, multicultural generation with 
his music. 
Race relations are a constant effort, says Jack Soden, CEO of Elvis 
Presley Enterprises. 
"Time and time again in marketing sessions it ends up on the list of 
things we want to continually put forth," Soden said. "We've got a 
responsibility for the history, the pop culture and the legacy to find a 
way to correct those misperceptions." 
Improving business is also a factor. Not just in record sales, but in 
getting the community to support the headquarters of Elvis's empire. 
After all, how much pride could the mostly black neighborhood of 
Whitehaven take in Graceland if its celebrity occupant represented 
racism? How does that affect the morale of the 400 employees, many of 
whom live nearby? How does that rub off on the mostly white tourists who 
are a major source of income for Whitehaven businesses? 
"Let's face it, 98 percent of our visitors are from outside the city," 
Soden said. "We know that we're an economic contribution to the 
neighborhood. We know for a fact that we're going to be here five years, 
10 years, 20 years from now." 
Graceland wants the Memphis community to know it cares. Its biggest 
charity effort is Presley Place, a 12-unit apartment complex that houses 
homeless people until they're back on their feet. 

Despite the efforts by historians, musicians and corporate executives, 
getting the word out means reaching one person at a time. 
In May, hip-hop singer Mary J. Blige apologized after singing Blue Suede 
Shoes on VH1's Divas Live. 
She told the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, "I prayed about it (performing 
the song) because I know Elvis was a racist. But that was just a song VH1 
asked me to sing. It meant nothing to me. I didn't wear an Elvis flag. I 
didn't represent Elvis that day. I was just doing my job like everybody 
else." 
This year's extra exposure will help change minds, certainly. That, and 
the continued efforts of Elvis's black acquaintances. 
Before his death last year, Rufus Thomas gave an interview to the 
TV program American Routes, which aired yesterday on WKNO. The former 
WDIA disc jockey and legendary Stax singer said: "Well a lot of people 
said Elvis stole our music. Stole the black man's music. The black man, 
white man, has got no music of their own. Music belongs to the universe." 
Thomas went on to say that he played Elvis's tunes on the radio until the 
program manager told him to stop because black people didn't want to hear 
them. Then Elvis showed up at a WDIA fund-raising event for black 
handicapped children. 
"When Elvis wiggled that leg, the crowd went nuts. He walked right off 
the stage and people were storming that stage. The next day I started 
back to playing Elvis again. Going to show you that no one person can 
tell you what another group might like."- Christopher Blank
___________________________________________________________________________

                      A Broken Heart...' Hastened Death

By Walter Dawson From the Archives of The Commercial Appeal August 18, 
1977

"He needed help from a standpoint of forgetting the damn money, 
forgetting the damn fame. I'm not putting anybody down, but I'm sure 
that after a long time Elvis just felt like he didn't know how to do 
that." 
Sam Phillips, the man who first worked with Elvis Presley in the studio 
and the one who helped guide him into becoming the rock and roll legend 
he was, reminisced Wednesday about his relationship with Presley as a 
man and an artist. 
Part of the problem with Presley's life, Phillips feels, was that he 
became trapped in a life-style that kept him on a pedestal with the 
public but also kept him out of touch. 
"I really wish more people could've known him as a person. I got to know 
what he was coming from, and the guy was a much, much deeper and much 
more of a spiritual man than a lot of us may have thought." 
Presley, Phillips said, seemed uncomfortable with the way he was closed 
off from the pleasures of everyday life. 
"I talked to his doctor a few years back. Elvis then was having trouble 
sleeping, and I said, `This man, bless his heart, needs more than anybody 
I've ever seen in my life to, at least in his own hometown, throw away 
the whole damn book and do what he damn well pleases. Let him be seen on 
the streets. It may take awhile and a few guards at first.' But I feel as 
fervently as I feel anything that he would be alive today if that had 
happened...You know, I think it's entirely possible to die of a broken 
heart...and I think that was a contributing factor." 
Life, of course, wasn't always so reclusive for Elvis. In the mid-1950s 
when he first walked into the Phillips studio, Presley was a shy young 
truck driver who just loved to sing. He walked in, supposedly to cut a 
record for his mother's birthday present, and Phillips' secretary made a 
note of his name. A few months later, Phillips called him in and began to 
work with him. 
"There was no question in my mind - my business was to hear talent, no 
matter what stage of polish it was in. Of course, none of us knew he was 
going to be that big, but the minute I heard the guy sing - it was an 
Ink Spots thing - he had a unique voice. Now there's very few things I'm 
gonna say are unique, that there's nothing else like them. 
"I called (guitarist) Scotty (Moore) and told him to get hold of 
(bass player) Bill (Black). And I said, `Now, I've got a young man and 
he's different.' I told him and Bill to go by and work with Elvis a 
little. I said, `Now, he's really nervous and timid and extremely 
polite.' 
"And it took us awhile; we worked off and on for about five to six 
months. I knew there were a lot of things we could've cut, but they 
weren't different. It was up to me to see the uniqueness of his talent 
and to go, hopefully, in the right direction with it." 
Elvis, at that time, obviously knew he had talent, Phillips said, but 
his modesty was overwhelmingly genuine. 
"You remember Clyde McPhatter? Elvis thought Clyde McPhatter had one of 
the greatest voices in the world. We were going somewhere one time - 
down to the Louisiana Hayride or to Nashville - and we were singing in 
the car. Well, Bill Black couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, and Scotty 
was worse. So Elvis and I were the only good singers in the car. But we 
were talking about Clyde McPhatter, and he said, `You know, if I had a 
voice like that man, I'd never want for another thing.' 
"But Elvis knew he had talent. I think he just had a little trouble 
gaining confidence." 
It was while working with Phillips, Black and Moore that Presley evolved 
his style of rock and roll, but he also picked up something else at the 
Sun Record Co. studio - a love for piano. 
"He loved to sing and always wanted to play guitar real good - of course, 
he never did learn to play guitar that good - and he wanted to play piano 
like Jerry Lee's playing, thought it was unbelieveable. 
"He didn't envy Jerry Lee or anything, but he did sit down and learn 
piano. And I think it was because he loved to hear Jerry Lee play so much. 
Man, he loved to play the old spiritual licks." 
In his early career years, even after he left Sun for RCA-Victor Records 
and became the phenomenon of the 1950s, Presley still liked to go back to 
the Sun studio or Phillips' house to sit and talk, one on one. 
"He'd come by to see me, totally informally, on every occasion 
unannounced, and we'd go off together and sit and talk philosophy. He 
called in '68 from Vegas (when Elvis was preparing to make his 
long-awaited return to live appearances) and he says, `Mr. Phillips, 
I just got to have you come out. I'm scared to death. I got to have 
somebody I know, some friends, in the audience.' 
"I think Elvis was truly scared of being hurt, probably more than any 
person I know." 
Why then would a person of such sensitivity allow himself to be wrapped 
in a social cocoon, cut off from all but his closest friends? 
"It's a vicious cycle. You start out and you're so proud of your success 
and you say, `God, I'll do anything to stay on top.' And then you find 
yourself saying, `Well, gosh, I know it's got to be over before too long 
and I've got to keep up this image. I'm very mortal, but I can't let the 
people know I'm mortal.' 
"But there's just no such thing as being an island unto yourself." 
_______________________________________________________________________

Friends Through Elvis
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