by Ginger Alden
Before long, we drove over to Union Avenue, where Jo thought there was a bridal shop. We passed a boutique and, when he noticed some bridal gowns in the window, Elvis pulled over.
He and I got out while Billy and Jo opted to stay in the car. “Which ones do you like?” Elvis asked as we stood in front of the window and admired the gowns.
We talked about the dresses, trying to get some ideas for a design. Afterward, we drove around a bit more, hoping to see some more gowns in store windows. Unable to find any more, we returned to Graceland before long. We said good night to Billy and Jo, then went upstairs, where Elvis’s good mood expanded as he continued to talk about our wedding.
“I’d like to have the ceremony performed in a nondenominational church,” he said, “a church shaped like a pyramid. Charlie told me something about a church shaped like a pyramid down by the river. What do you think?” he asked.
Remembering that Elvis thought pyramids contained a special energy, I thought the church sounded magical. “That sounds really nice, Elvis,” I replied. My heart was pounding hard. This was for real! Elvis had a church picked out! He’d even talked to someone else about it!
Elvis mentioned another church on Summer Avenue, then said, “We could have our reception in Vail, Colorado, or at Graceland.”
I had never been to Vail. “That would be amazing,” I said. “I’d love to go to Vail.”
He asked me to start making out an invitation list for the wedding. I found a pen and paper and began writing down the names of some friends and family members. Still a little giddy from the conversation, my mind was spinning. It wasn’t easy to think of everyone in that state of mind, so I put the paper in the drawer of my night table to return to later.
All along, Elvis had been saying that God would come through and tell him when the time was right for us to marry. His deep spirituality made him feel that God was working through him, and I appreciated his belief. This night had been a revelation, a time filled with promise and excitement as we planned our future together. I went to bed early that morning, happily thinking that at last Elvis felt the right time for us to marry was drawing near.
• • •
I’d been spending so much time at Graceland or touring with Elvis for the past eight months that I hadn’t really seen much of my friends. One day, though, I decided to take my friend Debbie over to Graceland. She had a comical side and was a lot of fun.
When Debbie said she’d love to meet Elvis in person, I shook my head. “He’s asleep,” I said.
She wanted to see him so badly, though, that I finally relented and led her upstairs. Debbie quietly tiptoed into his room and went right up to the bed.
Elvis was facing the opposite way. As my friend leaned over to peer at him, I suddenly remembered his gun, lying on the floor next to the bed.
“Be careful,” I whispered. “If he wakes up, it’ll scare him, and no telling what would happen.”
We retreated downstairs, where we ran into Lisa. She wanted to take us for a ride on her golf cart. The two of us held on for dear life as Lisa sped merrily around the grounds and through the pastures of Graceland.
Another afternoon, one of my dearest friends, Peggy, asked me if I’d go with her one night to listen to some music at a nearby club. I hadn’t seen her in quite a while, so I was happy to go.
When I told Elvis about my plan, he said, “I don’t mind if you go, but don’t stay out too late.”
Peggy and I both had a cocktail at the club. Afterward, I brought her to Graceland to meet Elvis. It wasn’t late, but when we walked upstairs, Elvis was sitting in bed, dressed as usual in pajamas and a robe. I suddenly worried about how he’d feel, having a friend of mine see him this casually dressed, but after I introduced them, Elvis politely said, “Any friend of Ginger’s is a friend of mine.”
Peggy sat down in the chair across from his bed and I sat beside him. “You smell like a brewery,” Elvis said, looking at me.
My face flushed red with embarrassment. I’d only had one drink earlier and felt I hadn’t done anything wrong.
For a split second, Peggy had an expression that telegraphed, “Oops, hope he’s not mad at me.” But she hastily tried to smooth things over. “Congratulations on your engagement,” she said.
“Thank you,” Elvis said.
Peggy had taken karate classes at Memphis State University, so she started talking with Elvis about his own interest in karate. They had a good conversation, and I relaxed.
Elvis played the organ for her a little later. By then it was late, so trying to act more like “the lady of the house,” I decided to invite Peggy to sleep over. We put her in one of the rooms downstairs. I felt content, knowing she was there. Peggy was the first friend I’d ever had stay overnight at Graceland.
• • •
I wasn’t totally on Elvis’s sleep schedule and sometimes woke before he did. One day, while Elvis was still sleeping, I decided to venture to the pool behind Graceland and take a swim by myself, just for something to do. I hadn’t been in the water very long when the guard Harold walked by.
Looking at me, he asked, “Excuse me, who are you?”
“I’m Ginger,” I said.
Harold laughed and apologized. “You look much shorter in the water.”
I laughed, too, but I was a little puzzled. Did I look taller, sitting in the car?
I’d spent so much time with Elvis that I’d only ever seen the guards Vester and Harold while I was driving in and out of the gates. I’d hoped to get to know everyone who lived and worked at Graceland better by now, but it wasn’t always easy, since I spent most of my time upstairs with Elvis. Certainly when I became Elvis’s wife and lived at Graceland, though, that would change. I looked forward to knowing them all better.
At Graceland, I usually left my Seville parked out front. One afternoon, Elvis and I were returning from a drive in his Stutz when I saw Dean washing my car. I knew Elvis must have asked him to do this, and I was surprised, as once again it was only dusty. I took good care of my cars. However, I was starting to understand how Elvis kept his cars looking so pristine: It was easy when others were washing them for you. Now Elvis was doing the same for me with my car.
Dean didn’t say anything as Elvis and I walked by. I knew Elvis was paying him, but by the look on Dean’s face, I knew he wasn’t enjoying this particular chore. I hoped he wouldn’t resent me for Elvis having him do this. Dean was another person I would have to get to know better over time, I decided.
• • •
One day, Elvis and I were reading through some spiritual books when he brought up a script he hoped to do as a film. “It’s called The Mission,” he said.
Elvis didn’t talk in detail about the plot, but my curiosity was aroused. As he continued talking about the script, I understood that Elvis saw it as an extension of what he had been trying to do with his music. The movie would have a spiritual theme and would parallel the books he had been studying. Elvis even mentioned that there were small parts for Terry, Rosemary, and me. He thought he had a copy of the script in the attic and I followed him there to try to find it. The attic was filled with racks of clothing, as well as some trunks and boxes. Elvis began looking through a box, but he was unsure of where the script was, so we returned to his bedroom before too long.
“Would you like to make more movies?” I asked.
Elvis frowned a little. “I’d really like to do a serious one,” he said, “another one without singing.” I had not seen all of Elvis’s films. “Which one didn’t you sing in?” I asked.
“Charro!,” he replied.
I hoped that one day he would look for this script again, and that his dream to do this would come true.
Another night, I was in my bathroom at Graceland when the phone on the wall above the toilet rang. It was Elvis, asking me to come into his bedroom.
I sl
id the folding door aside, walked into the bedroom, and saw Charlie, his hands covered in blood, hovering over Elvis as he relaxed in bed.
“What happened?” I gasped.
“Charlie’s been drinking and smashed his hands through a glass window, somewhere, for some reason,” Elvis said, shaking his head. “He’s cut his knuckles.”
I realized that Elvis wanted me to see this, but I had no idea why. I had come to see Charlie as a jack-of-all-trades who would do anything for Elvis, from coloring his hair to helping out onstage. What would possess him to punch out a window? I wondered, and shuddered a little, remembering the incident where Charlie had been drinking and asked Elvis to hit him.
Without saying a word, Charlie turned, went out the door, and started downstairs. Suddenly, we heard a thud.
Elvis quickly got up and I followed him to the stair landing. Charlie was lying in the foyer, laughing. Looking down at Charlie, Elvis said, “Charlie, get up. You look like a worm.”
Two aides heard the commotion and quickly came to assist Charlie to his feet. “I’m sick of this shit,” Elvis told me, and spun on his heel to return to the bedroom.
As I followed him, I figured the nurse, Tish, would most likely be getting a late-night visit from Charlie.
Elvis took a seat on his bed and picked up a book. “There’s gonna be changes around here, Gingerbread,” he said.
I sensed he wasn’t just talking about redecorating Graceland this time.
I’d been at Graceland a few days straight by then. The next morning, I told Elvis that I needed to go home to get more clothes and check on Odyssey. Luckily, my mom and sisters helped me out by taking care of my dog whenever I needed them to, but I wanted to take my share of the responsibility for him.
“I don’t want you to go,” Elvis said. “I’ll be alone.”
He’d never said this to me before. Knowing that so many others lived and worked at Graceland, I had to wonder how Elvis could feel alone. “Elvis, you have more people around you here than I have at home,” I said.
“They’re not my friends,” Elvis said, surprising me with his candor. “Do you think if it weren’t for their paychecks, they’d still be around?”
I wondered who he meant. Was he doubting the loyalty of some of the people around him as true friends? I knew there were times he’d been displeased about various things and he’d also thought some people weren’t doing their jobs on tour and even at home. Elvis had even mentioned firing a few. He once complained to me that some aides weren’t where they were supposed to be and then called Billy Smith up, asking him to speak with them. Going downstairs later, I saw Billy reprimanding a few of the guys at the dining room table.
I wanted to allay his mood, so I decided to stay one more night. The next day, Elvis didn’t protest as I started to leave. However, when I went downstairs and out to my car, I was shocked to see that the air in all four of my tires had been let out.
I went back upstairs and found Elvis hiding on the floor by my side of the bed, laughing. “I was trying to get you to stay,” he said.
Shaking my head, I gave him a light kiss on the cheek. This was now turning into a humorous battle of wills. I was ready to play. Well, watch this, I thought.
I got into my car, drove slowly through the gates, and made it to the nearest gas station. I thought of Elvis hiding and laughing. As an attendant put air into my tires, I couldn’t help but smile.
• • •
By now it was August, and with my parents’ divorce moving forward, as part of the agreement, Elvis’s lawyer had asked my father to sign a quit claim deed turning our home over to my mother. True to his promise, Elvis paid my father his equity in the house so the property could belong solely to my mother. None of us knew how we could ever thank Elvis enough for such a magnanimous gesture.
On August 3, I was at Graceland when my mother called to let us know that a huge truck carrying two large pin oak trees had pulled up to our home. The trees were planted on each side of our front walk. A couple of days later, landscapers arrived to plant three more trees and five crepe myrtle shrubs.
Elvis wanted to see our new landscaping. On August 6, he and I left Graceland and went to my house with Charlie. When we arrived, Elvis stood on our front walk for a few minutes, proudly surveying the new greenery.
Afterward, we visited with my mother and sisters at the house for a while. “Now, Mrs. Alden, your mortgage is taken care of and the trees are in,” Elvis said at one point. “All you need is the pool installed, and they should be starting it soon.”
Elvis was in a great mood. Before long, he said to Charlie, “Let’s do a little singing,” and we followed them into our music room.
Charlie sat down at the piano and Elvis began singing “How Great Thou Art” with such power, it felt like the roof would blow off. “Listen to this,” he said a few times, wanting my family to witness how he could hit certain difficult high and low notes. Afterward, he sang “Unchained Melody,” and it cut right through me.
The spell was broken when my brother’s two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Allison, who had been napping in another room, began to cry.
Elvis heard her and walked down the hall to my mother’s room. I followed him and saw Allison lying on the bed, sobbing. Elvis walked up to her, bent over, and kissed her on the forehead.
My mother came in then. She picked Allison up and carried her into the den, where she sat on the sofa with Allison in her lap. Elvis took a seat beside them. He began tickling Allison, trying to make her laugh. Then, making some funny motions with his hands, he playfully said, “Whoop woo, whoop woo, Daddy!”
Allison finally started laughing. Elvis continued this game for a few minutes, clearly getting a kick out of making my niece smile. A warm feeling came over me as I watched this and imagined having a child with him, thinking how wonderful it would be.
Later, we went into Rosemary’s room, where we sat with Rosemary on her bed and talked about numerology and life. Elvis was so busy thinking and talking that he quickly asked Rosemary for a pen and paper.
She handed him a couple of sheets of yellow stationery from a pad nearby. Elvis wrote some numbers and letters down on them, trying to explain things to us as he went along.
As always, Elvis was enjoying the process of looking for words inside words, and finding a special significance in certain things. He shared some of his discoveries about numbers with us, and what he thought it meant if the numbers were in a certain order. For instance, using the mark of the beast, three sixes, Elvis added the numbers together, which totaled nine, and explained this number symbolized war and destruction. Meanwhile, the number seven was a “God-like” number, Elvis said, because within it was contained the word “Eve.”
Elvis entertained the idea that numbers influenced one’s life, and I was fascinated, as always, to hear what was going on inside his head.
Later, I brought in a photo album that included some pageant pictures of me. As we were looking through the photographs, Elvis took one out, flipped it over, and wrote, “God gave me to you, God gave you to me,” on the back of the photograph. It would be one of the many special things forever dear in my heart.
CHAPTER 26
As much as Elvis loved being at home, a few days later he announced, “I’ve been off too long.” I knew it was in his blood to perform and one of the things that made him the happiest.
His fans obviously wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see them. There were usually fans at the Graceland gates, and people tried to follow him anywhere he went if they happened to spot Elvis out and about. I never heard Elvis complain about this or turn down an autograph.
However, early one evening, the two of us went outside to sit on the front porch. The guards had left the front gates open, unaware that Elvis and I had come out, and a small crowd was gathered at the foot of the driveway.
Suddenly, a few fans
began inching their way closer up the driveway toward us. I glanced over at Elvis, who was dressed in his robe and pajamas. He looked at the advancing fans without a word, then stood up and moved his chair behind one of the columns. A few minutes later, he took his jug of water and cigar and abruptly stood up.
“Let’s go back inside,” he said.
Elvis had been caught in an internal tug-of-war between his instinct to embrace his fans and his own need for privacy. Had the gates been closed, I’m sure Elvis would have stayed out longer on that warm summer evening but he accepted this as part of his life and I accepted this as part of my life with him.
Another evening, Elvis said he wanted to take Lisa and me to Libertyland. I was thrilled, especially because Amber was also at Graceland that night and I knew how much the two girls loved the amusement park. They grew quite excited when I told them our plan.
An hour went by, then another. It was getting late. I took the girls into my bathroom to help them get ready, where I styled Lisa’s hair in a bun and the three of us got dressed. We were all anxious to leave and have fun.
When I walked out of the bathroom to look for Elvis, however, I found him still in his pajamas and in bed. “I’ve decided not to go,” he said.
I felt really frustrated. Elvis had canceled our plans to go out at the last minute many times, simply because he had just changed his mind. I had been disappointed by this unpredictable behavior before, but this time I was more upset. Going to the amusement park would be a good thing for him to do, and I knew how much the girls were looking forward to it.
Remembering something Elvis had once said to me, I decided to challenge him. “Elvis, I thought you once told me that you could do anything,” I said, then silently waited for his reaction.
