Elvis Blog Archives — July 2009
Entry #69: Posted July 2, 2009 With “It’s Now or Never,” Elvis Left Rock ’n’ Roll for Pop Music’s Mainstream
In June 1957 a Hollywood reporter asked Frank Sinatra his opinion of Elvis Presley’s singing ability. “Presley has no training at all,” Frank responded. “When he goes into something serious, a bigger kind of singing, we’ll find out if he is a singer.” Three years later, Elvis would answer Frank’s challenge. In the July 11, 1960, issue of Billboard magazine, RCA Victor placed a full-page ad to promote the release of Elvis’s latest single. The text of the ad read, “Backed by a million votes! Elvis Presley’s newest RCA Victor single—47-7777—is sure to be America’s newest 1,000,000-seller. IT’S NOW OR NEVER is a sensational ballad, available in monophonic and Living Stereo, in a full-color sleeve.” Amazingly, the Victor ad actually understated the potential of the new record. Just a week later, “It’s Now or Never” debuted on Billboard’s “Hot 100” chart at an unprecedented #44. From there it moved swiftly to the top. On July 25 it rose 30 spots to #14. A week later it was at #3, where it remained for an additional week. Then, on August 15, it took over the #1 spot on the chart, displacing Brian Hyland’s “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini.” “It’s Now or Never” remained solidly at #1 for five weeks. Finally, on September 19 it slipped back to #3, surrendering the top spot to “The Twist” by Chubby Checker. Elvis’s recording remained on the chart for another 10 weeks as it slowly retreated down the list. By the time it dropped off the chart in early December, “It’s Now or Never” had been on the “Hot 100” for 20 weeks, half of those in the top 10. “It’s Now or Never” was more than just another million seller for Elvis, more than just another #1 record. It marked a turning point in Presley’s career. It signaled his willingness to abdicate his “King of Rock ’n’ roll” title and move on into other types of music. With its operatic overtones, “It’s Now or Never” was about as far from rock ’n’ roll as a pop vocal could get at that time. It’s phenomenal success on the charts and in the record stores demonstrated that Elvis could deliver the goods outside the r&b genre and appeal to a wider audience. It was a risky move to be sure, especially for Presley, who in later years would seldom stray from his comfort zone as an entertainer. In entering the mainstream of pop music at age 25, he would face competition from a million other singers, while possibly alienating millions of fans devoted to his rock ’n’ roll persona. There have been varying accounts on how and why “It’s Now or Never” came to be. The following is how Ernst Jorgensen, in his book Elvis Presley: A Life in Music, tells the story. “Elvis had told Freddy [Bienstock of Hill & Range Music] how much he loved Tony Martin’s 1949 hit, ‘There’s No Tomorrow’; his mother had owned a 78 of Caruso’s ‘O Sole Mio,’ the turn-of-the-century Italian ballad the song was based on, and the aria’s vocal challenge attracted him so much he’d already taped himself singing it while in Bad Nauheim. Under the impression that the melody was in the public domain, Freddy had Aaron Schroeder and Wally Gold compose new lyrics for it, and the new Hill & Range version became a top priority as they headed into the studio at the beginning of April.” “It’s Now or Never” was recorded in RCA’s Nashville Studio B late in the evening of April 3, 1960. The impressive list of musicians included Scotty Moore and Hank Garland on guitar; Bobby Moore on bass; D.J. Fontana and Buddy Harman on drums; and Floyd Cramer on piano. The Jordanaires provided vocal backing. It took only four takes to produce a master recording. When RCA Victor released “It’s Now or Never” in early July 1960, it hedged it’s bet by backing the single with “A Mess of Blues,” a tune more in line with Elvis’s established rhythm and blues reputation. When the reviewers at both Billboard and Variety auditioned the single, both publications judged the blues number to be the “A” side of the record. Variety’s review read, “Elvis Presley’s ‘A Mess of Blues’ is a solid blues-styled rocker belted by a performer who can do no wrong with his fans. ‘It’s Now or Never,’ based on the ‘O Sole Mio’ theme, is fresh type of material for this singer who’ll clean up on both sides.” Billboard led with the blues side as well. “Elvis handles a fine blues with his usual feeling on the top side and comes thru with a great reading of a familiar melody on the other. Both sides are potent.” Who knows how “A Mess of Blues” would have done if it hadn’t had to compete with “It’s Now or Never”? As it turned out, it spent 11 weeks on the “Hot 100,” peaking at #32. That it was so overwhelmed by “It’s Now or Never” validated Elvis’s decision to put some distance between himself and his rock ’n’ roll past and to move into pop music’s mainstream. On July 18, 1960, the same week “It’s Now or Never” first charted, Billboard ran a front page article headlined, “Elvis Sans R.&R. Click Stymies Crix.” The article discussed Elvis’s recent shift on the musical spectrum. “Elvis Presley is hotter than ever saleswise today,” Billboard’s writer explained, “and he’s making it with a non-rock and roll record, thereby confounding the critics who predicted the star wouldn’t survive the rockabilly craze.” The article added, “The most interesting aspect of the situation is that the big chart side, ‘It’s Now or Never,’ is a more or less straight vocal version of the oldie ‘O Sole Mio.’ On the basis of sales to date, RCA Victor expects the disk to be one of Presley’s biggest hits, far greater than his first post-GI platter, ‘Stuck on You,’ which was an r.&r. tune. Possibly one of the reasons the new disk is outdistancing ‘Stuck on You,’ is because ‘It’s Now or Never’ is getting considerably more air exposure than Presley’s first record. Many non-rock and roll stations, which previously considered Presley strictly in the rockabilly groove, are spinning his new platter.” That Elvis was not just experimenting with a song like “It’s Now or Never” became clear on November 14, 1960. On that week’s “Hot 100,” “It’s Now or Never” fell to #47 on the chart. One the records that passed it on the way up the chart was Elvis’s new single, “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”, which entered the “Hot 100” at #35 that week. The new song was further proof that Presley was extending his reach into the mainstream of popular music. In February 1961, just six months after “It’s Now or Never”’s big splash on Billoard’s chart, Elvis held a news conference. His responses to a couple of questions revealed the intended future course of his music. Question: Have you found that your own personal tastes have changed from rock and roll to what we call commercially better types of music? Answer: No, it hasn’t changed. I’ve always liked all kinds of music. I don’t just like rock and roll. I appreciate all types of music, really. But I have to do what I can do best, so I do the rock stuff. Question: What is your favorite record? Answer: I think that my favorite record of the ones I’ve recorded is “Now or Never.” — Alan Hanson
Entry #70: Posted July 9, 2009 Sharing Memories of Seeing Elvis in Spokane in 1957
“I loved this book. And with 95% of it being from newspaper reports before, during and after the concerts it doesn't rely on memories, instead on what people said right then. Not for those who want to know who Elvis's girlfriend was at the time but a book for those who want to know the effect of Elvis in 1957 on people and popular culture. Fascinating stuff.” The other day on Amazon.com I came across the above brief review of my book, Elvis ’57: The Final Fifties Tours. I like it because in just a short paragraph it makes two very good points, not only about the book, but also about Elvis in 1957. First, when it comes to people who saw Elvis perform in the 1950s, fifty-year-old memories are often unreliable. Second, how people reacted to Elvis in 1957 is indeed “fascinating stuff.” When I was doing research for the book, I gathered as much information about Elvis’s tours in 1957 as I could find. Since Elvis ’57 was published, however, much more about those concerts has come to my attention through various sources. Since it’s too late to include that material in my book, I’ve decided to occasionally pass on additional information about Elvis’s “final fifties tours” in this blog space. This week it’s some additional “fascinating stuff” about Elvis’s 1957 appearance in Spokane, Washington, my hometown. Here are the basics. After a two-day train trip from Memphis, Elvis arrived in Spokane late on the evening of August 29, 1957. The next night he opened his four-day, five-city Pacific Northwest tour with a concert in Spokane’s outdoor Memorial Stadium. After the show that evening, he caught a train to Vancouver, B.C., for an appearance there on August 31. In my book there is a photo of Elvis signing an autograph for a girl soon after his arrival at Spokane’s Great Northern station. That picture appeared, along with a excerpt from my book, in a local history magazine, Nostalgia, in August 2007. Soon Gaylene Moos Pope, who lives in Wenatchee, about 150 miles west of Spokane, contacted the magazine publisher. “What a shock to see the picture of Elvis signing an autograph for a young girl in your last issue,” she wrote. “That young girl is me!” It seems in 1957 Gaylene and her sister went along when her father, who was the manager of a local Cadillac dealership, to the train station to pick up Elvis when he arrived. Gaylene had forgotten to take her camera and didn’t realize until 50 years later that a newspaper photographer had taken her picture with Elvis that night. She described her encounter with Elvis as follows: “Oh my gosh, he’s really coming right over to us. My heart was pounding. I just kept looking at him. His hair was dark black, shiny clean—not greasy. His complexion was beautiful (not greasy). And what a nice young man—a real gentleman! I finally mustered up the ability to ask for his autograph at which time he smiled at me, leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, took hold of my hand and nicely said, ‘I already signed your book dahlin’.' I embarrassingly looked down at my book, and sure enough, there was his autograph. He had actually taken the book out of my hand, signed it, and slipped it back into my hand without my realizing it.” (You can read Gaylene’s full account of her encounter with Elvis in Spokane elsewhere on Elvis-History-Blog.com.) When teenager Karen Larson first heard Elvis was coming to Spokane, she wrote to Tom Diskin, Colonel Parker’s assistant, asking for a back stage pass. The day of Elvis’s show, Diskin called to tell Karen to report to the dressing room at the stadium to pick up her pass for the press conference that Elvis would hold there before going on stage. The following is an excerpt from her online account of her meeting with Elvis. “Then it happened, the door opened, and in he came … My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would come right out of my chest. He sat up front on a desk and you could ask him questions … When the conference was over you could get autographs and have your picture taken with him. The shy person I was, kept bugging him for a picture and finally he put both hands on my cheeks, got right down in my face and said, ‘Honey, I ain’t got no picture,’ and kissed me on the cheek. Elvis was only 21 years old [actually 22], and the most handsome hunk you could ever hope to see. Those beautiful blue eyes and long lashes would make anybody’s blood go past the limit.” Nostalgia magazine asked readers who had seen Elvis in Spokane in 1957 to send in their memories of the event. Following are a few of the responses that appeared in the magazine. “Though Elvis performed on stage, separated from his fans by a dirt track, he would still cause a commotion. During his last song, he jumped onto the track and sang ‘Hound Dog,’ while kneeling in the dirt. After Elvis left the stadium I remember fans going wild. The girls jumped out of the stands and onto the dirt track. They were on their hands and knees, grabbing their hands full of dirt and throwing it in their purses and yelling and screaming. It was a madhouse. It was neat, so neat.” — Tom Jackson “We arrived to find mobs of people, mostly teenage girls, crowded down front. It was so jam-packed that we couldn’t get to our seats … All of a sudden all the lights went out, and the stadium was completely dark. When the lights came on there he was: The King. Elvis! Then the screams really got loud. Elvis stood at the mike and would say a few words before launching into a song. The screams got louder, if that was even possible. I remember Elvis would just say something, twitch his leg or make some gesture to the crowd, and the girls would again go crazy. It was quite a sight—and a good concert when you could hear him.” —Paul and Charlotte Cooper “That summer Elvis came to town for the first time. I was the ultimate fan and desperately wanted to go. A friend said she would trade days off with me, but then changed her mind. I burst into tears! My boss felt so sorry for me that he gave me the night off anyway. I had a date and we, like most everyone else, dressed in black to attend the concert.” — Sharon Carlton Brazington “My wife had purchased the tickets and was somewhat taken up with him, in that era. I had heard his name mentioned, but didn’t know who he was or what the magnet was that attracted all the young ladies … We had good seats as I recall, and when Elvis came on the outdoor stage he started out quickly with all the wild gyrations for which he was already gaining popularity. His singing was great and he could have doubled as a contortionist, in my opinion. I found myself enjoying the performance.” — Richard “Dick” Reidburn “My mother was a pantry cook at the Ridpath Hotel at that time and she was the only one in the kitchen when Elvis sent his eggs back. They were undercooked. So she slapped them on the grill till they were hard as a rock and sent them back. Apparently, that’s the way he liked them and there were no further complaints.” — David Wagner “Elvis was very polite [at the press conference], addressing everyone as Sir or Madam. And he said two of his favorite singers were Bill Kenny of the Ink Spots and Dean Martin! If you play any records by these people you can certainly hear Elvis singing in that higher register and sliding some of the notes like Martin. Then someone asked what was the deal with the gold medallion around his neck. He said he liked it because it caught the spotlight and really shined. He was really something.” — KNEW disc jockey Bob Adkins (aka Addy Bobkins)
Entry #71: Posted July 16, 2009 Debra Paget—Elvis's First Leading Lady; What She Learned About Elvis in 1956
Although her role as Lilia the water girl in The Ten Commandments was her signature role in a 15-year Hollywood career, Debra Paget is best remembered today by Elvis enthusiasts as Presley’s first leading lady in his 1956 debut film, Love Me Tender. Born Debralee Griffin on August 19, 1933, she later took the stage name “Paget” after her actress mother moved the family to Los Angeles from Denver. She began her motion picture career at the age of 15. Her big break came in 1950, when she appeared opposite James Stewart in Broken Arrow. Young, beautiful, and talented, Paget signed an exclusive contract with 20th Century Fox. While Love Me Tender was Elvis’s first film, it was Paget’s 20th picture, although she was only 17 months older than the 21-year-old Presley. In April 1957, just five months after Love Me Tender opened nationally, an article titled, “What I Found Out About Elvis!” appeared in TV and Movie Screen magazine with Paget’s byline. While it is possible that she wrote the article, it is more likely that it was written in the first person by a magazine writer who had interviewed Paget. In either case, the sentiments expressed in the article appear to accurately represent the actress’s true impressions of Elvis. The article opens with Paget recalling her first meeting with Elvis on The Milton Berle Show on June 5, 1956. “Although I usually don’t form an opinion of a person until I have met him,” she explained, “frankly I looked forward to my first meeting with Elvis Presley with mixed emotions. I’d heard and read a lot about this new young singing sensation from Tennessee—and most of it was not complimentary.” According to Paget, though, Elvis impressed her from the very beginning. “The first thing I recall was the way he greeted us. When Mr. Berle introduced us, Elvis grabbed my hand firmly and said, ‘I’m glad to meet you, Miss Paget.’ Then he shook my mother’s hand with equal vigor, excused himself, and a couple of minutes later came back with a chair for her. We were together for only a couple of hours but sometimes you can learn more about a person in a short span of time than in weeks of seeing one another constantly. I felt I did. From the very beginning, Elvis impressed me as a pleasant, sincere, obliging young man.” A few months later, Paget learned that Elvis had been given a staring role in a film for which she and Richard Eagan had already been cast. At first Paget sensed a great deal of apprehension on the set, but soon, she said, Elvis won over the cast and crew as he had her a few months earlier. “From then on my family and I saw a lot of Elvis,” Paget explained, “—at the studio, on location, when he came over to our house for a swim on Sundays. I grew to understand him better. I also found out some things which really surprised me.” One of the things that surprised her was Elvis's sensitivity. “At first I’d been under the impression that he was quite indifferent to the attacks made on him for the way he sings, dresses, wears his sideburns, and all the other comments. But he isn’t. Not that he’d admit the fact easily to a stranger … I could tell he was deeply hurt when his performances were criticized, or when he was threatened with being banned from certain cities.” Another thing that amazed Paget was how easily Elvis adapted to acting. “Had anyone told me that he’d never had a dramatic lesson, never stood in front of a movie camera, I wouldn’t have believed it. His acting was convincing, he always knew his lines, he picked up like a trouper the purely technical aspects, like moving in and out of camera range, and the many other tricks of the trade that usually take months and years of experience to learn. However, he was so modest about his ability to catch on quickly, he was just about the only person who didn’t think he was doing well.” Paget mentioned that some of her friends had asked her if Elvis had “romantic appeal.” She addressed the question in a matter-of-fact manner. “I’m convinced he has, and that it will come across on the screen. It is certainly felt by those who meet him, although I don’t think Elvis himself is conscious of it. He certainly never talks about his ‘conquests.’” The actress portrayed her own relationship with Elvis as being more family oriented than romantic. “From the time he first came to the house,” she recalled, “my folks have considered Elvis a member of the Paget clan—a feeling which, I believe, he reciprocated. I had the feeling that our closely-knit family life must resemble his own to quite an extent. And I could tell how much he missed his parents.” Elvis told Paget that one night in Hollywood he felt so lonesome that he called his parents in Memphis. The phone rang several times before his mother answered. Elvis said, “Hi, mom. What’re ya doin’?” She responded, “What do you think I’m doing—I’m sleeping!” Elvis hadn’t stopped to realize that, while it might be 11 p.m. in Los Angeles, it was 1 a.m. in Memphis. Although Elvis was obviously a unique young man, Debra Paget concluded that in many ways he was a “normal, healthy twenty-one year old.” For one thing, he had a large amount of energy to burn. She learned that one morning when she walked onto the set. “Someone shouted ‘DUCK!’—a split second before a football shot past my head,” she remembered. “A moment later Elvis was by my side, breathless and apologetic. ‘Ah’m so sorry, Debra. (I finally talked him into calling me by my first name.) Ah didn’t mean to scare you.” She explained that Elvis and his cousin Gene were always active when they had some free time on the set. “When they don’t play football they throw a baseball, have mock fights with knives or hatchets, or find some other way to entertain themselves.” The magazine article concluded with Debra Paget assessing Elvis’s future chances for success in the entertainment business. “I will gladly take a chance on predicting that Elvis Presley will continue to retain his popularity, regardless of rock ’n’ roll: and I mean popularity not only with the fans who see him in the movies, or TV, or his personal appearances, but even more so with people who are fortunate enough to meet him in person. Elvis Presley is here to stay.” While Love Me Tender marked the beginning of Elvis Presley’s Hollywood career, it came at the same time that Debra Paget’s career began to decline. In 1955 20th Century Fox had cancelled her exclusive contract after she appeared in a non-Fox film. After Love Me Tender she had roles in 12 more films before retiring from Hollywood at the age of 29 in 1962. She married three times and had one son. Debra Paget currently lives in Houston, Texas. — Alan Hanson
Entry #72: Posted July 23, 2009 Crawdaddy Published the Best Elvis Tribute Article in 1977
I’m sure I’m not alone among Elvis Presley fans in noticing the similar circumstances surrounding the recent death of Michael Jackson and the death of Elvis in 1977. Both died suddenly and unexpectedly. The misuse of prescription drugs obviously played a role in both deaths. For both men a huge, spontaneous public out-pouring of grief and remembrance resulted in wall-to-wall coverage by seemingly all media outlets. Another similarity arising from the two icons’ deaths can be seen on the newsstands. As with Elvis back in 1977, the image of Michael Jackson can be found on the covers of dozens—perhaps hundreds—of magazines and tabloids. I haven’t purchased a single publication with the King of Pop on the cover, but when Elvis died, I picked up several dozen magazines with covers featuring his image. I still have most of them, and recently I pulled them out of storage to take another look. Of course, most of those magazines were rushed to newsstands by publishers simply looking to make a few bucks on Elvis’s untimely death. Some merely reprinted dozens of articles that had appeared in magazines throughout Elvis’s career. Many others contained nothing by meaningless articles recounting Elvis’s exemplary life and portraying him as the only perfect man to walk the earth since Jesus. Among all the filler, however, an occasional thoughtful tribute to Elvis was to be found by those of us who were then trying to come to grips with the real meaning of the man’s life. In the months following Elvis’s death, the article that best answered that question for me appeared in the November 1977 issue of Crawdaddy magazine. Founded in 1966, Crawdaddy was the first American magazine to treat rock ’n’ roll as a serious form of music, on a level with jazz and folk. It’s not surprising, then, that the magazine commissioned several respected writers to give their perspectives following Elvis’s death. The best article in that issue was written by Robert Ward, an up-and-coming novelist, whose work had already appeared in Esquire, New Times, Penthouse, and Sport magazines. In later years, adding to his nine published novels, Ward became a screenwriter, with nine episodes of Hill Street Blues and eight episodes of Miami Vice among his many TV credits. In his 4,000-word article about Elvis in 1977, Ward discussed both the impact of Elvis on his own life and the man’s influence on American culture. After explaining the alienation he felt as a 12-year-old in the stifling American culture of the mid-fifties, Ward described one of the defining moments of his life—the first time he heard Elvis Presley’s voice. He was reading a book and listening to the radio in the cellar of his parents’ small Baltimore home, when disc jockey Buddy Deane played “Heartbreak Hotel” for the first time. Over 20 years later Ward recalled the intensity of that moment. “Instantly I can see it, feel it, touch it all … I’m there … I’ve always been there … on the blackest of streets … and I can see the bellhop, his face in his hands, and the desk clerk, sitting behind a worm-eaten desk with his black shirt, black face. Behind him are the letter slots, but they are empty today, tomorrow, forever—it’s the saddest, loneliest tableau in the world, and the singer’s voice, expertly complemented by the raw blues guitar (and I have never heard the word “blues"), makes this world seem an ideal … it’s a perfect loneliness, a perfect dream space where all the pain is around me and yet I’m magically protected from it by the tough, vulnerable, infinitely sensual voice. Nothing in my entire life has hit me with the force of the first moment I hear Elvis Presley sing ‘Heartbreak Hotel.’ I literally cannot bear for the song to end … ” But the song did end, and young Robert ran upstairs to call Deane and request he play it again. He couldn’t get through; the lines were jammed. Running back downstairs, he waited by the radio. Forty minutes later, Deane spoke of “hundreds” of callers who wanted to hear “Heartbreak Hotel” again. Once again, Ward was mesmerized. “The song starts again, and instantly I am transported as I had been the first time. The exquisite pleasure I get from Presley’s voice—the way it seems to put me in touch with something infinite and magical—is so baffling to me, so wonderful, that after the song finishes for the second time, I’m so dazed I can’t remember his name. I know it is something weird, wild and lovely and sweet all at once. I have to own the record, without delay.” Jumping on his American Flyer bike, Ward pedaled two miles to the “Music Mart.” He couldn’t find “Heartbreak Hotel” in the new records section, and when the owner asked the name of the singer, Ward couldn’t remember, exactly. “Melvis Peasley, I think,” he stammered. “It’s by who?” asked the owner. The boy offered a few more guesses—“Melvis Persley … or Gelvis Pesley … or Belvis Pesley.” After asking the owner to call him when the record came in, Ward pedaled home, singing the lyrics to “Heartbreak Hotel” all the way. “God, I feel good singing those sad sad words,” he remembered. “Pedaling and sweating and singing, I have never felt so goddamned good in my whole life. Whatever his name is, I love him. His great, distant/near, tender/rough voice lifts me up, gives me strength, courage, and above all, ecstasy. He is mine, all mine.” Ward jumps ahead 21 years to August 1977. He was living in Mahattan then. One day he answered the phone. It was his father calling from Baltimore. “I got to thinking of you tonight,” said his father, “you know, when I heard that Elvis Presley died. You know how much you used to like his records.” That’s how Ward learned that Elvis had died. Although he hadn’t bought an Elvis record in years, he felt “ridiculously shaky.” For some reason, the news of Elvis’s death seemed “like your own past coming to bury you.” Like many of us at that time, Ward for the first time tried to understand the influence Elvis had left behind in his own life and on his generation. He came up with the following: “We loved you. You were our Youthful God, and when we believed in you, you made us believe we too were gods. And then you went and did it, man. You got old, you got fat, you grew lazy, confused. And then you went down the crapper. You flunked, baby. You weren’t a legend at all. You were only a mortal, and a Southern shitkicker to book, like your shitkicker fans. And you left us all alone. “Yet, like our hometowns, like our parents who we once rejected—like our own pasts—finally we are powerless to reject Elvis without severing the vital connections that keep us alive. His life was a triumph over low birth, lack of education and a deadening conformist era which broke many a more advantaged man’s heart. He taught us how to begin to feel, what it meant to turn yourself loose. He seized his time, and he gave it back to us—recharged, renewed, filled with all the courage, tension and sweetness which made up his own complex and lonely heart. In short, he was simply one of us—and for a very long time, one of the best.” — Alan Hanson
Entry #73: Posted July 30, 2009 It Might Have Been the Happiest Day of Elvis Presley's LIfe
I know how happy Elvis Presley was on March 5, 1960. That was the day he was discharged from active duty in the U.S. Army. I know how he felt because I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face on June 26, 1975, the day I got my military discharge. I know veterans are supposed to be proud about serving the nation, and I do feel that way sometimes. I’m sure Elvis did too, but, ya know, when you’re in the service and you don’t want to be, life can be unpleasant. Both Elvis and I were forced into the military by the draft. We both had careers put on hold. I’m sure at the time Elvis felt like I did, that the years in the military were wasted. It was time that could have been put to far better, and certainly more lucrative, use in civilian life. Of course, the passage of years brings a more balanced perspective on one’s military service, and the time spent there does seem to have been useful in some ways after all. Elvis certainly didn’t enjoy his time in the army. In a November 1958 letter from Germany to his buddy Alan Fortas back in Memphis, Elvis wrote: “I would give almost anything to be home. You know it will be March of 1960 before I return to the States. Man, I hate to think about it. Of course, don’t say anything about it, because a miracle may happen. Boy, it will be great getting out. I will probably scream so loud they’ll make me stay two more years. I can hardly wait to start singing, traveling, making movies, and above all seeing the old gang and old Graceland. All I do is sit and count the days.” And in a March 1959 article in Variety, Elvis admitted, “I stay homesick all the time. I’d give my neck to be back. You just don’t know.” For the record, here are Elvis’s significant military dates. March 24, 1958: Elvis is inducted into the army in Memphis. September 22, 1958: Elvis leaves for Germany on a troup transport ship. March 2, 1960: Elvis leaves Germany on a military transport plane bound for the States. March 3, 1960: Elvis arrives at McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey and holds a press conference at Fort Dix that afternoon. March 5, 1960: Elvis is discharged 19 days short of his two-year army commitment. Elvis’s press conference on March 3, 1960, has been well documented. Video, audio, and print transcripts of the event have long been available, and most Elvis fans are familiar with the spectacle that day—the crush of newsreel and press cameras, the Q&A exchange, and how Tina Louise somehow worked her way into the spotlight with Elvis. Among the press corps present that day were representatives of both Variety and Billboard. The lengthy accounts that appeared in both entertainment publications offer some interesting sidelights to what is perhaps Elvis’s best-known press conference. David Bittan’s article appeared in Variety’s weekly edition of March 9, 1960. It began with, “Sergeant Elvis Presley was mustered out of the Army in a production worthy of one of the nine films he is scheduled to make in the next three years.” According to Bittan, Elvis looked “tired but fit.” (Elvis certainly must have been tired. The night flight from Germany landed in New Jersey at 7:42 a.m., and as a veteran of several trans-Atlantic flights aboard military transports, I can testify that the noise inside such planes is not conducive to sleeping.) “On hand to greet him were more than 100 representatives of all types of news media,” Bittan observed. “Among those present were actress Tina Louise, representing the Mutual radio network, and Nancy Sinatra, appearing on behalf of her father.” Of course, Colonel Parker was right in the middle of it all, as well, throwing out some big numbers, some no doubt exaggerated, concerning Elvis. He claimed Elvis had earned $1.6 million in record royalties while in the service. Parker announced that now that Elvis was out of the army, he would earn $850,000 from films and TV in 1960, including $125,000 for appearing on Sinatra’s May 12 TV special. Bittan noted that Tina Louise, who was dressed in a “tight white dress … with her bright red hair peeking out of a turban,” made Elvis blush when she asked him, “Are you still going to use suggestive movements?” Elvis replied that his movements were “natural” and that there would be little change in them “unless my fans wanted a change.” When the press conference ended, Bittan watched as “reporters ran for the telephones as they would at a Presidential press conference.” Thirty phone booths had been set up for writers to call in their stories. “Using one of the phones was Tina Louise,” Bittan noted, “telephoning Mutual’s Washington newsroom with a dispatch written for her by a newsman, who just happened to be present.” Billboard’s account, written by Ben Grevatt, appeared in the magazine’s May 7, 1960, edition. According to Grevatt, conditions at the news conference “hardly could have been worse. Despite a snow storm which quickly reached blizzard proportions, a great bevy of newspaper, magazine, TV, radio and newsreel people braved treacherous highway conditions to reach the post.” And, like most in the press corps there, Grevatt couldn’t help but notice the presence of “red-headed, voluptuous actress Tina Louise.” As the rep for the industry’s leading music journal, Grevatt labeled most of the questions thrown at Elvis as “square.” “The matter of his marriage plans was covered at least six times,” he noted, “while that of his hair and sideburns came up at least four times.” As the meaningless, to him, questions continued, Grevatt’s attention wandered to a commotion occurring outside the room. “Meanwhile, outside the window of the auditorium,” he reported, “there was a gathering furor of another kind. This was a small army of teen-age fans who squealed and pounded on the windows till an orderly was sent to quiet them down. They did not quiet down, however.” The last word in Grevatt’s Billboard article went not to Elvis, but to the bothersome, to him, Tina Louise. “It was learned that on the way back to New York,” the writer wrote, perhaps gleefully, “Miss Louise and her companions got stuck in a snowdrift on the New Jersey Turnpike.” At 9:15 on the morning of Saturday, March 5, 1960, Elvis was officially discharged from the army. He and Colonel Parker left Fort Dix in a limousine for a hotel in Trenton, New Jersey. That night Elvis boarded a train bound for Memphis. I’m sure, as I did, a happy-to-be-free-at-last Elvis soon left all unpleasant thoughts of military life behind him. — Alan Hanson
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