by Ginger Alden
As Miss Tennessee, Terry was invited that summer to a country club in Memphis, where she got free tickets to see Elvis perform at our local Mid-South Coliseum on July 5. Due to official obligations elsewhere, she was unable to go to the concert, so she gave the tickets to my mother, Rosemary, and me. Little did my family or I know that, in the very near future, Terry’s title would open the door to Graceland, leading me straight into Elvis’s life.
When July 5 rolled around, I was thrilled to see Elvis perform for the first time. I didn’t personally own any Elvis albums, but my mother had his gospel and Christmas ones, and my brother, Mike, owned a few of Elvis’s Sun label 45s. I enjoyed a variety of music, from classical to rock ’n’ roll, and some of my favorite bands at the time were Fleetwood Mac and Led Zeppelin, and the singer Elton John.
Our seats weren’t too close to the stage, but as Elvis entered and the cameras began flashing, I was completely spellbound. The man whose voice I’d grown up hearing all my life was suddenly right there in front of me, flesh-and-blood and very real! It was wonderful to hear him sing the songs that I’d heard before only on television and the radio.
His hair was longer and he looked a little heavier than in his earlier years, but I was captivated by the way Elvis strutted onto the stage dressed in a white jumpsuit with an Egyptian bird design, blue silk puff sleeves, and a matching belt with chains hanging from his waist.
That summer night in 1976, the crowd was a mix of middle-aged adults, teens, and children. Elvis put on a great show and at one point that night, he told the audience, “The first record that I did here in Memphis, ya know, was ‘That’s All Right (Mama),’ and so forth and they . . . had a couple of people say well you can’t do that anymore. You, by God, watch me!”
He went full force into the song then and proved them wrong. My mother, sister, and I were three out of thousands that night, captivated by a show that unfortunately would turn out to be Elvis’s last hometown performance.
CHAPTER 3
In early September 1976, Terry went to Atlantic City, New Jersey, to represent the state of Tennessee in the Miss America pageant. I was able to work around my job at the dress shop and go with my family to New Jersey to support her.
Terry was an extremely gifted pianist whose many hours of disciplined practice had gotten her far. On one of the preliminary nights, she won all three honors in the swimsuit, talent, and evening gown competition. Although the Miss America crown wouldn’t be hers that year, she was always a winner in my eyes.
Before going to New Jersey, I had entered and won Miss Mid-South Fair, a huge two-week event that I looked forward to every year, when it came to Memphis at the end of September.
A little over a week after returning from New Jersey, the Mid-South Fair began and I attended it each day as the official hostess. As usual, it was a lot of fun, but before I knew it, the fair was over and so was the month of October.
A typical weekend night in Memphis usually found my sisters and me out to dinner, the movies, or socializing with friends. On the evening of Friday, November 19, 1976, however, all three of us were at home. We were sitting in the den with Larry, a young man I’d been seeing, when the phone rang. Our mother answered it in the kitchen, then entered the den to say that George Klein was calling for Terry.
My sisters and I exchanged curious looks. George was a well-known local disc jockey and television personality. Last, but certainly not least, he was also a longtime friend of Elvis Presley’s.
Terry picked up the receiver in the kitchen. Meanwhile, our mother, looking slightly stunned, reported that George had told her Elvis had been dating around and would like to meet the new Miss Tennessee. He was inviting Terry to Graceland!
It certainly wasn’t your everyday phone call. Having seen Graceland only from the outside made it all the more surreal. Rosemary and I scurried into the kitchen to unashamedly eavesdrop on Terry’s conversation.
Terry may have been Miss Tennessee, but the idea of a “date” with Elvis was unimaginable to my sisters and me. That only happened in the movies! Terry had also been dating someone since high school, so upon hearing her accept the invitation, we knew she had done so for the same reason we would have: She was eager to meet Elvis in person and get a peek inside Graceland.
The three of us were very close, and knowing Terry would feel uneasy about going alone, Rosemary brought up the possibility of the two of us accompanying her. As exciting as it sounded, I didn’t feel comfortable with this idea because we hadn’t been invited.
Before I could protest, however, Rosemary quickly approached Terry while she was still on the phone and whispered, “Ask George if Ginger and I can come!”
Terry paused for a second—she knew this wasn’t proper, but she was our sister, and we always looked out for each other, so she went ahead and asked. Then, lowering the receiver from her ear, she told us George had sounded a bit hesitant and put her on hold while he checked. Now we were embarrassed.
When George came back on the line, however, much to our relief, Terry nodded yes and Rosemary and I went to tell our mother and Larry. Larry wasn’t too keen about me going to Graceland, but seeing how excited we all were, he said, “I don’t blame you for wanting to go,” and left.
When Terry finally hung up the phone and joined us back in the den, she said Elvis had wanted to send a car for us, but she’d told him she would drive. George had asked what car we would be in so he could tell the guard at the front gates to watch for us.
Our appointed time to be at Graceland was 11 P.M. We began getting ready, feeling enthusiastic but nervous. Meeting Elvis plus touring the inside of Graceland meant we were in for a double treat!
As we chatted and touched up our makeup, Terry said, “I’m glad you and Rosemary are going.” A few moments later, she reflected on George’s hesitancy and having to check about it. “I really hope it’s all right you’re coming with me.”
Feeling uneasy about it myself and not wanting Terry to feel worried, I walked away and stopped getting ready. Rosemary soon noticed and told me, “George said it was fine.” Then, half-joking, she added, “The worst Elvis can do is ask us to leave.”
She was right, so I finished getting dressed. By 10:30 we were saying good-bye to our parents and excitedly heading out the door.
Graceland was a little less than half an hour from our home. We were so keyed up, we chatted all the way over. What once had been a section of Highway 51 South was now Elvis Presley Boulevard; as we turned onto it, the three of us grew quieter. The fieldstone wall surrounding Graceland soon came into view and, as we entered the turning lane, blinker flashing, the wrought-iron gates with the image of Elvis holding a guitar slowly began to open. It was an incredible feeling, knowing this was happening just for us!
Terry gave her name at the guardhouse. The gates swung closed behind us as we started up the long driveway, eventually stopping just shy of Graceland’s lit front porch. We sat in the car for a few moments, unsure of what to do next. Would someone come out to get us? Should we park here or around back?
A security guard soon emerged from the darkness and approached the driver’s side of the car. Terry lowered her window and asked, “What should we do?”
Smiling, the guard replied, “Try knocking on the front door.”
My sisters and I climbed out of the car, laughing at ourselves and the guard’s comment as our nerves got the better of us. Passing between two huge lion statues, we jokingly chanted, “Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!” in an effort to relax.
We walked up the stone steps to the front porch where Rosemary, always the bravest among us, pressed the doorbell beside the green wrought-iron front door. Expecting Elvis to appear at any moment, my earlier concerns about showing up uninvited resurfaced. I grew increasingly anxious, wondering, “What if Elvis really doesn’t want Rosemary and me here?”
I hung back, letting Rosemary and Terry wait
at the door. When it opened, George Klein greeted us, which surprised me. Naive as this may seem, because this was Elvis’s house, I expected him to answer the door.
George was the same age as Elvis, forty-one, and a friendly guy with black hair. It had been his Talent Party show that I once briefly modeled on. I didn’t say anything about this, because I didn’t think he would remember.
He introduced himself and then beckoned for us to follow him. Feeling like Alice stepping through the looking glass, I took a deep breath and entered Graceland for the first time.
My feet sank into thick, red shag carpet, which extended into the foyer and up a staircase with a gold-and-white banister and railings. George invited us into the dining room. Passing beneath an enormous, ornate crystal chandelier, I glanced to the right and saw a room decorated all in red with French provincial furniture. Peacock stained-glass windows were on either side of the entrance to a music room dominated by a black baby grand piano. Many people have referred to this red décor as gaudy and it would eventually be changed. But, gaudy or not, it impressed me at the time, and it’s still one of my most lasting memories of Graceland.
To my left, I heard voices. I turned and saw some people seated in red, silver-studded, high-backed chairs around a mirrored dining table. Cigar smoke curled into the air as we approached. Staring at the chair at the end of the table, its back facing us, I excitedly thought, This has to be Elvis! and slowed my steps, almost holding my breath.
I was wrong. George introduced the chair’s occupant as GeeGee Gambill. His wife, Elvis’s cousin Patsy Presley, was there, too, along with another cousin, Billy Smith, and Billy’s wife, Jo. They were playing cards, the men smoking cigars, all of them casually dressed in jeans and T-shirts or blouses.
Everyone greeted us cordially. I couldn’t tell by their reaction whether they had been expecting us or knew who we were, but I did get the sense that they were sizing us up as they gave us quick, up-and-down appraising looks. The three of us had dressed nicely to meet Elvis, but hadn’t put a lot of thought into overly trying to impress anyone.
George then led us through the kitchen. Its floor was covered in wall-to-wall carpet in a multicolor patchwork design. I had never seen carpeting in a kitchen, but this was Elvis’s home, so I figured there would be much I had never seen before. The room looked warm, with dark brown cabinets and stained-glass lamps hanging from the ceiling. The kitchen had a breakfast nook and opened into a den.
“This is the Jungle Room,” George announced, gesturing around the den as he paused to answer a green phone buzzing on a nearby table. As I watched George listen to someone on the phone, I heard laughter echoing from the dining room and it struck me how comfortable everyone was in Elvis’s home.
I began to relax a little and gazed around the room. The Jungle Room was far from your typical den. I noticed water trickling down the face of a stone-covered back wall, and the furniture featured carved animal heads and engravings.
George hung up the phone. “Can you please wait right here?” he asked. “Elvis isn’t ready yet. He’s practicing karate.” Then he walked away, leaving the three of us alone in the room.
It seemed a little odd that Elvis would invite us here at a certain time and not be ready. Still, I wasn’t complaining. I was excited just to be seeing inside Graceland.
I sat on a faux-fur chair with wooden arms carved to look like Asian dragon heads. Rosemary and Terry chose a matching couch. In front of it was a huge coffee table made of lacquered wood. Statues of jungle animals were placed randomly about the room; a large mirror framed with feathers was hanging on a side wall; and the green carpet was, surprisingly, on parts of the ceiling as well as the floor.
After a few minutes, a maid entered and offered us a drink. We asked for sodas and, when she left, eased our tension by taking our mirrored compacts out from our purses, opening them, and jokingly pretending to primp.
Suddenly, I noticed cameras mounted on the walls near the ceiling. The cameras seemed to be aimed our way! I quickly closed my compact and pointed them out to my sisters. Mortified, I wondered if we were being watched.
The maid returned with our drinks and we sat quietly, now cautious of every move we made.
Considering the late hour, I was surprised that Graceland was so active. Phones periodically buzzed (they did not ring) and various people came and went. At one point, a young man in his twenties, with long blond hair, stepped into the Jungle Room and casually introduced himself as Elvis’s brother, Ricky Stanley.
Brother? I was puzzled. I didn’t know Elvis had any siblings. Later, I learned that Ricky was Elvis’s stepbrother; his mother, Dee, had married Elvis’s father, Vernon, after Gladys Presley died. We introduced ourselves and found out that Ricky worked as an aide to Elvis.
Not long afterward, a short, dark-haired man in his forties appeared and introduced himself as Charlie Hodge. With a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he began telling off-color jokes, all the while leaning as if balancing on the deck of a heeling ship. If Elvis was considered the King of Rock and Roll, I thought Charlie would certainly qualify as his court jester. I wondered if he’d been sent expressly to entertain us. As I discovered after I started seeing Elvis, Charlie sang harmony with Elvis and assisted him onstage during his shows.
George finally returned. “Elvis is still practicing karate,” he said. “Would you like to see downstairs?”
Thinking we were downstairs, I was surprised to follow him down a staircase at the back of the den. We entered a colorful room with vibrantly patterned fabric in blue, red, and yellow lining its walls and ceiling. Pieces of furniture were upholstered in matching material. An electric organ stood against one wall, and a billiard table sat in the middle of the room beneath two large Tiffany-style lamps suspended from the ceiling.
George then took us into another room he called the TV Room. I felt immediately disoriented as we entered this room, because it was filled with mirrors: Mirrors covered the ceiling, framed the fireplace, and covered a square coffee table. What looked to be small mirrors were shining in the embroidered fabric of yellow-and-white pillows scattered across a large navy sectional sofa. Yellow leather stools were pulled up to the bar, and three television sets had been built into a side wall.
A huge white lightning bolt inside navy and yellow clouds had been painted above the couch. George explained that Elvis had a motto, TCB, which stood for taking care of business. The lightning bolt was a symbol for taking care of business lightning fast.
A phone began to buzz in the room. George answered it, listened, then hung up, saying we were going upstairs next, to Elvis’s daughter’s room.
Upstairs? I couldn’t believe it! Our tour had helped me calm down, but now my nerves began to hum again. I knew Elvis had to be on the top floor because we’d pretty much covered the entire downstairs. The time had come, I thought: We were finally going to meet him!
• • •
Elvis’s relatives were still playing cards in the dining room as we passed by them again, this time headed for the foyer. When George started up the staircase, my heart began to beat even faster. At the top, we followed him down a hall and into Lisa’s bedroom.
This room was decorated mainly in yellow and white. A black leather sofa was against the wall to the right, and the center of the room was dominated by a large round bed blanketed in white faux fur with matching canopy. My sisters and I sat on the couch and George turned on a nearby television set.
George leaned back against Lisa’s bed and continued visiting with us. Ricky and Billy Smith both entered, leaning against the bed and joining the conversation.
I hadn’t paid any attention to the time and glanced at my watch. It was now approaching 1 A.M.
Two hours had passed since our arrival. Although it hadn’t really felt like that much time had gone by, the more Ricky, George, and Billy continued to talk, the more I began to wonde
r whether they were covering for Elvis. Had he changed his mind about meeting us? Now that we’d been entertained with a tour, would we be asked to leave without meeting him?
Another man’s figure appeared in the doorway of Lisa’s room. I turned to look, prepared to greet another relative or friend, but it was Elvis entering the room. I was caught off guard. I had halfway been expecting to hear trumpets sound at his entrance.
Elvis’s jet-black hair was casually styled. There was no pompadour or glitzy outfit, just Elvis, dressed in a dark blue karate top, black pants, and black boots. I was immediately attracted to him. His hair looked soft and shiny; his skin was clean-shaven and smooth. Thinking he was gorgeous, my shyness flew right out the window.
“Hi, Elvis!” I blurted, as if I’d known him for years.
“Hi,” Elvis said and shook our hands, correctly acknowledging my sisters and me by name, one by one. Someone had obviously informed him who was who.
Then, crossing the room in front of us, Elvis sat in a large dark chair to our right and put a cigar to his lips. Billy quickly leaned over and lit it for him. Elvis settled farther back in the chair and apologized for keeping us waiting.
Billy then left the room while Elvis proceeded to ask Terry about herself. She talked about her music and the various titles she had won.
“How about you?” Elvis asked me. “Have you won any titles?”
I told him a little about myself. When Elvis got to Rosemary, she mentioned she had never entered any pageants outside of high school. He smiled and said, “Well, you should have, but for now you’ll just have to be Miss . . . Miss . . . Miss . . . Understood.”
We all laughed. The more Elvis joked around with us, the more I noticed how similar his humor was to ours. I’d had this feeling of a powerful presence and energy the minute Elvis entered the room, and he continued to hold my focus completely throughout the night. At the same time, I was taken by how down-to-earth he was, and by his sexy smile and laugh.
