The Great Elvis Expedition:

Day 8, Friday August 16th, 2002 

Day 8 We woke late this morning, and were less than sharply focused when we met Rick for coffee in the lobby. At 10:00 A.M., the four of us headed off to visit the Civil Rights Museum located in what was the Lorraine Motel. It was sobering to look up and see the exact spot where Martin Luther Kings, Jr. was shot and killed. King had come to Memphis to lend his moral support for a strike by underpaid black sanitation workers. The night before he had given the speech where he told the audience that his life was being threatened and where he said “Like any man, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place…..But tonight I do not fear any man, because I have been to the mountaintop and seen the Promised Land….. I may not get there with you, but we as a people will get to the Promised Land.”

The museum inside the old motel is composed of an extremely well done series of simple and powerful exhibits that trace the history of civil rights struggle in this country from the Declaration of Independence up to the present day. It would be good if all Americans could walk through this museum.

Following this visit, we then adjourned for lunch to Jim Neely’s Interstate Barbecue, which features what are widely considered to be the best wet ribs in the United States. Three of us ordered the Barbecue Sampler, which featured a huge plate of pork ribs, beef ribs, beef brisket, barbecued pork, , and barbecued sausage and barbecue spaghetti. Ron had barbecued turkey. We were, simply put, in barbecue heaven.

After inhaling our food, we were reluctantly ready to leave when Rick spotted a young girl wearing a Duke sweatshirt. She turned out to be not only a Duke student but the granddaughter of Jim Neely, the African-American owner of the restaurant whom we then had the pleasure of meeting. Mr. Neely is a very friendly man of 65 who built his business from scratch. He still oversees operations but has plenty of time to travel with his wife in their $700,000 motor coach and attend the annual motor coach convention. He is now considering opening another restaurant in Raleigh-Durham.

Following a photo session with Mr. Neely, we were now ready for Graceland and for all that awaited us there. We took a cab to the perimeter of the mansion, and then waited for our tour which began promptly at 3:23 P.M. when a shuttle bus doeposited us and our group of 25 pilgrims at the front door. We then donned our audio headsets, which led us on a 25 minute tour of all of the first floor rooms of the mansion.

For those who have not experienced Graceland, one feels as if the entire 1970s-the worst decade in the history of life on earth in terms of clothing, hair style, and interior design- had been distilled into a heavy glucose solution and injected directly into the aorta. In every room, on every wall and on every floor are couches, chairs, curtains, and rugs made of fabrics of dark orange, rust, bright yellow and every other garish color of a rainbow from hell. Elvis was not responsible for the 70s, but he sure took it to its zenith, or nadir, or whatever one might call it. Other than this we found it quite tasteful.

After exiting the house, one sees Elvis’s pool and garden, which are actually pretty, and look out at a beautiful pasture where he kept his horses, including Rising Sun, his personal favorite.

It was now 3:48, and we were now approaching the grave where Elvis is interred, flanked on either side by his mother and father. As people in front of us took pictures of the thousands of flowers and notes left there just this day, we nervously awaited our turn. Wiley and I filed past, and then it was Run’s turn. At precisely 3:53, he stood in front of the grave of Elvis Aron Presley and donned a special pair of glasses that he had been working on for months. They were Neostyle glasses, the brand that Elvis used to wear, that he had treated with a special polymer resin along with dilithium crystals embedded in the frames. All of a sudden, there was a soft white light that engulfed Ron. Everybody around the grave site saw the light, and saw Ron’s face, which was totally rapt with joy. Ron’s lips were moving silently. Then Ron signaled Wiley to come stand by him and gave him his special glasses. And there He was, the King himself, looking as he did in 1957 at the height of his popularity and before the ravages of prescription drugs took their toll. Wiley, usually never at a loss for words, was dumbstruck until the King said “What can I do for you, sir? (Elvis was always respectful of his elders.) Any friend of Ron’s is a friend of mine.” Wiley finally got up the nerve to ask Elvis if he would endorse Paul Wellstone for the U.S. Senate from Minnesota. The King then said “Tell me a little bit about him”, and Wiley, now over his initial shyness, proceeded to describe in great detail the Wellstone platform, which calls for addressing the pressing problems of prescription drugs for seniors, health care, and education. To which Elvis said “He sounds like a nice fella, and all those things need doing. I’d be honored to endorse Mr. Wellstone.”

A dazed and ecstatic Wiley walked away, and Ron motioned for Rick to come over. Rick, who had figure d out that there was some serious dialogue going on with the King, and, after a polite exchange, asked Elvis what to do about the stock market to keep it from ruining the economy. To which Elvis replied “Buy low and sell high” Rick explained that things were more complicated than that, and described the horrible situation with millions of people watching their 401Ks dwindle to nothing. Elvis thought hard on this question, furrowed his handsome brow, and then said “Change them all to 401Ls.” Rick asked what a 401L was, and Elvis said “I don’t know, but it sure sounds like all these folks could use a fresh start.” Rick, being the financial genius that he is, instantly grasped the possibilities, said good-bye to the King, gave the glasses back to Ron and staggered away to join Wiley on the side of the grave.

Now it was Tom’s turn. He nervously approached the grave, put on Ron’s magic glasses, and reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded note that the Pope had slipped him while walking down the receiving line at Castle Gondolfo, the Pope’s summer residence. The note was in Polish, and Tom’s Polish was not very good. His first translation of the Pope’s message to Elvis was “Do you like barbecued kielbasa?” This didn’t sound quite right, and Elvis, who was now fluent in Polish and in all languages, asked for the note and accurately translated it as “How can we assure world peace and the kingdom of God on Earth?” Elvis thought hard again, and then said “Corgis. All world leaders should be given Corgis, and then there will be Peace on Earth. Elvis then sent his personal best wishes back to the Pope, saying that he seemed like a mighty nice fella, too. A stunned Tom gave the glasses back to Ron, who then finished his conversation with the King, and took off his magic glasses. The light around Ron disappeared, and the crowd of visitors began once more to file past the grave. It seemed like an hour had passed, but it was only 3:54 P.M.

We left Graceland and somehow in our stupor found a cab to take us back to Beale Street. No one spoke a word in the taxi, each one bathing in the glow of his personal encounter with the King. We went to Beale Street and quickly had several rounds of shots of Jack Daniels No.7 and beers chasers before we could speak about what happened. We each told our own stories, and then, overcome by the import of what we had learned, made a solemn pact never to discuss what had happened to the outside world, except, of course, to you, Dear Reader.

So ended Day 8 of the Great Elvis Expedition