Gary North says that he's never met a man who says that a part of him died when Elvis died, but then again North never met Elvis, as I did. No, not at the 7-11, but at an Oklahoma motel in 1964.
In the summer before my 9th grade year, three of my fellow students and I – two girls and two boys – along with two teacher-sponsors, were traveling by car from Texas to a national student council convention in Wisconsin. We stopped overnight at a motel in Oklahoma.
Some motel guests told us that Elvis Presley was rumored to be staying at the motel. I found out which room he was supposed to be in, and went and knocked on the door. The biggest, burliest guy I'd ever seen opened the door. I said to him, "Sir, I heard that Elvis Presley was staying in this room and I was wondering if I could meet him."
The guy glared at me and said, "Elvis Presley is not in this room. Now, get lost, kid."
At midnight, my friends and I were sitting by the pool playing cards, when all of a sudden, lo and behold, Elvis Presley, dressed entirely in black, casually walked up and asked, "Are you the kids who were looking for me?"
Wow! We could barely talk. Meeting the king of rock and roll in 1964 was bigger than meeting the king of England. That certainly was the high point of our lives, at least up to then.
I don't recall much of the conversation, but I do remember asking him, "Is Ann Margaret here with you?" (She's the beautiful red-headed actress who was his co-star in Viva Las Vegas.) Elvis grinned and responded, "No … but I sure wish she was!"
Elvis visited with us for about 20 minutes and then took off in his sleek, black travel-trailer. He was the nicest, friendliest, most ordinary person you'd ever meet. He signed autographs for us (on the Aces of our deck of cards) and we took some photographs, all of which, unfortunately, have been long lost. (Our student-council sponsors refused to put the photographs in the school yearbook for fear of adverse parent reaction.)
A few years ago, I paid homage to Elvis with a visit to Graceland and to the former offices of Sun Records. I felt like I was walking on hollowed ground.
The music might have died with Buddy Holly, but when I heard on the radio in 1977 that Elvis Presley had died, a part of me died too.
August 17, 2002
Mr. Hornberger [send him mail] is president of The Future of Freedom Foundation in Fairfax, Va.
