“If they gave out college degrees in Elvisology, you’d have a Master’s,” the DJ told me. That was at a radio station in downtown Memphis, April 1976.
I was being interviewed because there was much buzz (was that even a word, other than the sound a bee makes, in ’76?) about Elvis.
It was recently announced he’d be performing in his hometown later that summer. Months away and thousands of fans had been camped out for two days in line to buy tickets.
The day before, I drove by the Mid-South Colosseum and was astonished. People were in tents, sleeping bags, lawn chairs and on blankets waiting. Although it was hot and humid, they were happy.
Through the years I’ve found dedicated Elvis fans to be among the happiest people on the planet. They’re commoderie expands beyond man-made limiting boundaries such as race, politics, religion and sex. Generally, they’re united.
Two nights before, I gained quick notoriety among Memphis fans for gaining the “impossible dream.” I scored an interview with Elvis Presley!
As a young journalism student from Southwest Texas State University (now Texas State), I did my homework. The stars were aligned:
🔼Local fans were not swarming around Graceland,
🔼It was a time sandwiched between Elvis’ mother Gladys’ birthday week (reasoned he may leave to visit her gravesite) and Mother’s Day. Yes, it was a long shot, but I was giving it all I could.
🔼With donuts, coffee and burgers from the Hickory Log cafe, I befriended Elvis’ cousin Harold Loyd and other Graceland gate security guards at night…and Uncle Vester Presley, Charlie Hodge and others during the day in between naps (Elvis was a night owl, so I had to be).
🔼The big card up my sleeve was the ace in the hole: I was President of the Texas Chapter of the official Elvis Presley Graceland Fan Club.
Invited to the radio station because of the spike in interest of the upcoming concerts and me landing the interview, the deejay began asking questions in rapid fire. I answered them as fast as he spit them out, but when he paused for a commercial break, I defaulted to my normal mode of operation–to engage in conversation rather than his Q&A approach.
(Note: as I write this, it’s 5:02 a.m. at the Guest House at Graceland so I don’t have my notes with me. Seeing the Harley-Davidson today that Elvis was driving when I met him, brought back memories that have been stored away. If memory serves me, the DJ’s name was Ron Michaels from WMC-FM100. Hey, that was 44 years ago!)
He started taking live listener calls. It was compelling enough that he kept me on air for over an hour.
I was psyched, of course, but somehow all this excitement calmed my youthful ego. I was very thankful for meeting Elvis, but especially grateful for his kindness. When you hear or read how nice he was to fans, believe me, it’s was a very genuine brotherly warmth kindness.
Shaking the hand of the man my parents, my sister Bobbi and I would see on the giant screens of the Trail or Mission Drive-In theaters, watch on TV, or read about in magazines and newspapers, was a surreal and humbling experience.
Meeting Elvis taught me much, including the value of doing homework, being prepared, investigation and a more engaging approach to interviewing.
Most of all, it taught me to never let self imposed obstacles get in the way of my dreams.
Photos taken at Graceland exhibits on June 24, 2020.