A Role Model--Elvis

My husband and I got an unexpected surprise on our trip last weekend to the Mississippi Delta and hills. We realized that it was the 30th anniversary of Elvis' death. We had already planned to visit a relative and spend the night in Tupelo on Saturday, August 11. Elvis was born in Tupelo in January of 1935. When we arrived at Doris' apartment, she picked up the newspaper and began reading to us about all the activities planned in commemoration of Elvis' death. There was to be a small mobile replica of Graceland that traveled around the country, a singing that night, and lots of events at the original house. We could also expect to see some 850 guests from England who were in Tupelo especially for the event.

Since we had lived and worked in Tupelo for a couple of years in the late 1960's, we were already familiar with the town and area. Garlan was a student at Itawamba Junior College where he rode a school bus by day to attend classes, and I worked for an insurance company as a claims clerk. Our food budget was $15 a week, so we ate a lot of potatoes, beans, and cheap cutlets from the Big Star grocery store. One of my husband's friends, Charlie, sometimes would take us to a movie since he knew we could not afford to go.

By the time we lived there, Elvis had already reached the height of his singing career most likely(the Beatles were currently the rage of the world), but we still liked to drive around occasionally to see the little house where he lived with his Mama and Daddy as a child. Just driving by to see the abject poverty into which he was born somehow gave the two of us hope that one day we would also have some upward mobility in American society. If a poor boy could move from rags to riches, what could we also do with a college education?

We were not alone among countless other fans who loved Elvis for different reasons. My grandmother, whom I lived with as a teenager growing up in the Delta, also liked Elvis. She always, until her death at 84, talked about how much Elvis loved and respected his Mama. She was brokenhearted herself when he died just a year and a half before she did.

On this day, however, we parked across the street from the little house of Elvis' childhood. There was a convertible jalopy beside us with the inscription "Loving You" on the back. The house was flooded with people in line, a large camera was mounted near the front porch to capture the size of the crowd, and a gospel group was singing Elvis' favorites. We took a quick picture to remind us of all that Elvis meant to people in the Deep South especially, and we left the next visit until later when the weather was cooler and the crowd was thinner.