When a person dabbles in the professional music scene, and another person, to whom the first person is amorously connected, used to own a club and be a sound man, and when a person’s two children show distinct musical talent at, say, the drums and the guitar, then a person, if happening to pass through Memphis, really ought to go to Graceland. Don’t you agree?
So, when we awoke at about 8:30, having slept later than usual because of our late-night hailstorm adventure, we got up, had some free Ramada Limited breakfast
(hardboiled eggs, biscuits with sausage gravy, cheese Danish, peanut butter English muffin, banana, coffee, milk, juice—I’m including everyone here, not just me), and piled into the car to begin our Elvis odyssey.
I guess it wasn’t really an Odyssey. Graceland is expensive—significantly higher than the hotel brochure said it would be ($27.00 per adult, $16 per child), and that was for the bare-bones tour without the car museum and Lisa Marie’s plane. You buy your ticket and then you have to wait for about 40 minutes. At least, that’s how long we had to wait. They told us it would be 40 minutes before they called our group. Of course, that gave us plenty of time to browse the many Elvis shops and restaurants, all hoping to get us to spend our hard-earned cash on Elvis paraphernalia. Angus did buy something to drink, and I had some coffee, but otherwise we were remarkably restrained. It was interesting enough to walk around and look at everything—the sequined suit replicas, the 1950s-style diner, the restaurant with the table built into a car…all kitschy of course, but fun, too, and Elvis music playing all the while.
When they did call our group, we got in line and they handed us little radios to hang around our necks, with headphones, for the audio tour. Mine was in Spanish but an efficient employee quickly switched it back to English. We all pushed buttons, even though we weren’t really supposed to yet. Then we had to endure the whole “we have to take your picture but you don’t have to buy it” routine that has become a staple in amusement parks (“Here’s you screaming your lungs out on the roller coaster, two 5x7s and a key chain fob for just $29.99!”). But the woman lining us up and the photographer were good-humored folks, joking with us and obviously enjoying their jobs. And that’s always a pleasure to see, in my opinion: happy people.
At last it was our turn to board the small bus that would take us across the street to The Mansion. We were surprised at how small, even modest, the mansion was. It wasn’t a pretentious display of wealth, like you might expect. I didn’t know much about Elvis before (admittedly) but he was a kind, generous, giving person and the tour gave me a new appreciation for who he was and what he accomplished, always with gratitude and yes, grace.
We were instructed to begin our audio tour and walked through the mansion, as the tour kindly suggested, in order and with an ongoing narrative, including lots of sound bites from Priscilla and Lisa Marie. It was actually very interesting.
We started in the living room, with the 15 foot white sofa.
We peeked into Elvis’s parent’s room. As you probably know, Elvis was born in a tiny house into a very poor life, and he wanted more than anything to be sure his parents, who had given him such a solid upbringing, would be comfortable.
The dining room was beautiful in a 1960s sort of way, with lots of blue and silver.
The mod 1970s style kitchen was, according to Lisa Marie, the hub of the house, with people coming and going and eating at all hours and always somewhere there to cook.
Downstairs, Elvis had a pool room covered in fabric with a pleated fabric ceiling, and a jungle room with amazing furniture featuring thick arms and backs of carved wood. A rounded chair was Lisa Marie’s favorite, and Elvis recorded a few songs down here.
Outside was a carport where Elvis kept his cars and go-karts, as well as a big pasture for horses. They still keep horses there. Lisa Marie said Elvis and his friends liked to jump into the go-karts or onto the horses and ride all around the yard, and sometimes out into the road, and they never got stopped by the police. Lisa Marie’s swing set still stands outside, too.
Later, Elvis built an outbuilding with an indoor racquetball court, the office where a small staff managed his affairs, a small brick shooting range, and a mod seating area where Elvis played the piano and hung out with friends the day he died.
The racquetball court, with its high ceiling, now houses floor-to-ceiling gold records and other memorabilia, plus a television with a video showing Elvis singing “How Great Thou Art” in a stadium. Another building, the Trophy Building, has all his awards, commendations, more gold and platinum records, and memorabilia from his movie career and subsequent return to rock’n’roll. Also his and Priscilla’s wedding outfits, and Lisa Maria’s toy box, a white quilted toy box with circus animals that is the exact same toy box my sisters and I had growing up in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s! I thought that was pretty cool.
Finally, the tour brought us to the Meditation Garden, where Elvis, his parents, and his grandmother are buried, along with the tiny grave of Elvis’s twin brother, who died at birth. Filled with flowers and mementos sent by fans from all over the world (including the strange framed photo of...some guy?), the garden has a fountain, flowers, and an eternal flame at the head of Elvis’s grave. Priscilla said that when she heard Elvis had died, her first thought was, “But how can the world possibly go on without Elvis Presley in it?”
Kitschy? Expensive? Sure, but I felt like it was worth the trip, and the long delay before hitting the road. I guess I would have to say that I now consider myself an Elvis fan. The kids never seemed bored, either, so I’m glad they got to see it. I hope they have a new appreciate for The King, too. Thank you. Thank you very much.
We got back on the road by 1:00 p.m. With such a late start, we decided we’d better move along quickly and not spend too much time at any more stops. We had a quick drive-through lunch at Popeye’s Chicken and Biscuits because, in the face of pleas for Wendy’s or Burger King, I decided we had to go somewhere that we couldn’t go in Iowa. Popeye’s is a southern institution, so that seemed appropriate. We had chicken po’boys—strips of fried chicken on hoagie buns with spicy coating and coleslaw. I had red beans and rice as a side. It was remarkably satisfying.
We drove and drove and quickly as we could, stopping occasionally for the usual reasons: gas, bathroom breaks. The interstate in Memphis looks to me like the street in front of someone’s house—small and unintimidating. I had envisioned Memphis is bigger. When we crossed into Mississippi, first we saw lots of swampland and the boys looked for alligators. Then the landscape changed—wide open fields and beautiful stands of pine with the sun shining into the middle, lighting up the forests from within. Angus kept remarking, “I like it here!” So did I. The day, sunny and clear, was perfect for driving and the views were understated but serene and beautiful. During one of our stops for gas, we got out of the car and it was…warm! I mean, really warm. Warm like the south, like summer. I couldn’t help throwing my arms out to worship the sun.
Jackson wasn’t very big but Mobile’s sparkling skyline just after sunset was impressive. So was the dramatically dipping underground tunnel we drove through on our way through town.
Then we had to find the beach. We didn’t have very specific instructions so after following where I thought we were supposed to go, and after lots of arguing with Ben about where we were supposed to go, and several calls to Ann, we finally found the condo: Emerald key, in Orange Beach. The boys leapt out of the car and Angus immediately began skateboarding around the parking lot. The boys grabbed a dolly and we brought all our suitcases upstairs, then went down to the beach to see the Gulf of Mexico in the dark. The waves, surprisingly large for the Gulf, crashed on the shore and the boys ran wildly around the beach and in and out of the surf, giddy to be out of the car and able to run free like that.
We’re here!
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