Baby, Let's Play House Part 13

"All of a sudden this guy hollers at me-I didn't even recognize him, but it was Vernon, all cleaned up and greeting me like a long-lost friend," Bowen remembered. "He wanted to know if he could do anything, and I said, 'Yeah, get me in the tent.' He said, 'Just follow me,' and he just parted the waves. I asked Vernon, 'How are y'all doing?' He said, 'Oh, we doing just great.' Said, 'The boy is really taking care of us.' "

When Cristil approached the Presleys that night, an exuberant Vernon, blond and handsome in a dark suit, white s.h.i.+rt, and tie, grabbed the microphone and hardly let it go, saying how proud he was, and how much they appreciated "all the good people who've knocked themselves out being so nice to us." He went on to thank the police department and the Highway Patrol, and he got on such a roll that Cristil finally just talked over him.

But for once Vernon had overshadowed his wife, who barely had room to answer the man's question about her favorite Elvis record. " 'Baby, Play House,' " she announced cheerfully, picking the s.e.xiest of all Elvis's songs, though mangling the t.i.tle. "That's a good one," Vernon said, but Gladys kept going: "And 'Don't Be Cruel.' That's my two favorites."

Cristil also took time to talk to Nick Adams, who had flown to Memphis with Elvis and Gene Smith after the completion of Love Me Tender Love Me Tender and would stay for a week. The reporter didn't really know who he was. ("And you're a star, I understand, a motion picture star, right?") But Nick was self-effacing and respectful, demurring to talk about his own career, and calling Elvis "the nicest person I've ever met in show business . . . I can't speak too highly about him." Then he bragged on Gladys's fried chicken and started to mention her okra, but he couldn't remember what it was. "Elvis?" he yelled across the way. "What's the name of those things your mother fixed me up? Oker?" and would stay for a week. The reporter didn't really know who he was. ("And you're a star, I understand, a motion picture star, right?") But Nick was self-effacing and respectful, demurring to talk about his own career, and calling Elvis "the nicest person I've ever met in show business . . . I can't speak too highly about him." Then he bragged on Gladys's fried chicken and started to mention her okra, but he couldn't remember what it was. "Elvis?" he yelled across the way. "What's the name of those things your mother fixed me up? Oker?"

Nick said he had come to Tupelo to support his friend. But he needed some propping up of his own. After a promising start in films, he could barely find work, and he'd spent the funds from his early successes, including Mister Roberts Mister Roberts and and Rebel Without a Cause Rebel Without a Cause, on houses for himself and his parents. Naturally, in Memphis, he stayed with the Presleys.

"He was just about broke," Barbara understood, "and he came in the house, and honest to goodness, his shoes were falling apart. They were horrible-looking. Mrs. Presley looked at them and said, 'Son, I don't want you coming in my house with those shoes. You're going to have to take them off and leave them outside.' Then she told Elvis to take him out and buy him some new ones."

Nick was in the car on the ride home from Tupelo, sitting in the backseat, with Barbara in the front between Elvis and Red West. Elvis was driving faster than he should have been, Barbara thought, when suddenly the hood on the big white Lincoln flew up and totally obscured his vision. Someone had lifted it out of curiosity while the unattended car was in the parking lot-automobiles of that quality were rare in Tupelo-and they hadn't closed it properly. Barbara in the front between Elvis and Red West. Elvis was driving faster than he should have been, Barbara thought, when suddenly the hood on the big white Lincoln flew up and totally obscured his vision. Someone had lifted it out of curiosity while the unattended car was in the parking lot-automobiles of that quality were rare in Tupelo-and they hadn't closed it properly.

"The road was single lane, as I remember, with a narrow shoulder. Elvis managed to ease the car to the right and pull over. But what impressed me was that both Elvis and Red, ignoring their own safety, threw their arms around me, as if to prevent me from hitting the winds.h.i.+eld." When the car came to a stop ("Son of a b.i.t.c.h!" "d.a.m.n, what was that?"), the boys again turned to Barbara. "Are you all right?" they asked. "It wasn't a general 'Is anybody hurt?' but a sweet and gentle concern just for me."

Barbara visited Audubon Drive "all of the time when Elvis was home," and he called her every night from California, both to say h.e.l.lo and to check up on her, the way he had called Dixie, even though he was cheating on her. "I didn't mind him seeing movie stars like Natalie Wood and Debra Paget, because I knew he was starstruck. He couldn't believe he was actually in the same world with them, and probably in his mind, he was in love with everyone he met."

But she had to think that in some ways she just didn't fit in with the whole group. She didn't have musical talent like Red, and while most of the boys cut up all the time, she and Elvis talked about more serious things. She could tell that Hollywood was changing him some, though he insisted it never would. During the making of Love Me Tender, Love Me Tender, Elvis told her on the phone that he had run into Jerry Lewis. It was still a thrill for him to see another star, but Lewis had disappointed him. Elvis told Barbara the comedian "was disgusting, the way he behaved with all of these people around him, his 'yes' men, doing everything for him and hanging on him." Elvis told her on the phone that he had run into Jerry Lewis. It was still a thrill for him to see another star, but Lewis had disappointed him. Elvis told Barbara the comedian "was disgusting, the way he behaved with all of these people around him, his 'yes' men, doing everything for him and hanging on him."

Sometimes Elvis seemed to be living in a movie, and there were times when he appeared to not be able to separate his own ident.i.ty from that of the Hollywood crowd. On October 18, for example, he pulled into the Gulf station at Second and Gayoso and was quickly mobbed by fans. The attendant, Edd Hopper, asked him to leave, and Elvis challenged him, only to have Hopper pull a knife-shades of Rebel Without a Cause Rebel Without a Cause-and a third man join in the fray. Elvis, who stood six feet only with the help of lifts in his shoes, hauled off and punched the six-foot-three Hopper, giving him a black eye. All three men were arrested for a.s.sault and battery, and disorderly conduct.

Barbara was inadvertently at the center of it, as Elvis was supposed to pick her up near her bus stop that afternoon. But he had noticed a gas smell coming through his air-conditioning vents, which prompted the stop at the station. She was still standing waiting for him when a young woman approached her and asked if she were Barbara Hearn. Elvis had sent word about what had happened, and the woman told her that the police had taken him to jail.

Barbara hardly knew what to say. About then, a policeman drove up to get her, and she was so shy, she could barely climb in the back of the cruiser. But when they got downtown, Elvis was already gone, and the officer rode her on out to Audubon Drive. The ordeal had been nearly as hard on Barbara as it had on Elvis. "I was mortified beyond words to be riding across town in a police car! If Elvis ever doubted my sincere regard for him, that should have clinched it."

That night, a newspaper photographer came out and took a picture of Elvis at the organ. Barbara sat near him, holding Gladys's little dog, Sweetpea. "I look so sad and bedraggled because I had been working hard all day while Elvis was showing off his temper downtown."

The next day, the charges against Elvis would be dismissed, while the other two men would be fined. And there was other news: Later that afternoon, June Juanico would arrive from Biloxi for a visit.

Barbara had learned of June from the newspaper. She'd picked up the Memphis Commercial Appeal Commercial Appeal one morning to find Elvis's remarks from the RCA press conference about the two girls he was seeing, along with a big, splashy story about the other women in his life. Once the shock wore off, Barbara took it in stride. "It was really neat that he had named me, but that was the first I'd heard of June." The paper carried a picture of her "own sweet self," of course, along with several rows of photos of Elvis's other dates. one morning to find Elvis's remarks from the RCA press conference about the two girls he was seeing, along with a big, splashy story about the other women in his life. Once the shock wore off, Barbara took it in stride. "It was really neat that he had named me, but that was the first I'd heard of June." The paper carried a picture of her "own sweet self," of course, along with several rows of photos of Elvis's other dates.

"One was a stripteaser from Las Vegas, and another was a lady wrestler. My family said, 'Well, that's just where you belong, isn't it, Barbara? Right up there with the stripteasers and the lady wrestlers.' "

Kay Wheeler and Elvis, first meeting, backstage at the Munic.i.p.al Auditorium, San Antonio, Texas, April 15, 1956. She taught him her original dance, the "Rock & Bop," and headed his first national fan club. (Courtesy of Kay Wheeler) (Courtesy of Kay Wheeler)

Chapter Eleven.

Showgirls and Shavers.

Just as Elvis had stayed in constant touch with Barbara through the filming of Love Me Tender, he had also heavily romanced June, sending her a lovesick telegram on August 21, 1956: "Hi, wioole [widdle] bitty. I miss you, baby. Haven't had you out of my mind for a second. I'll always be yours and yours alone to love. Dreamed about you last night. Love ya. Yea, uh-huh. EP."

As if for proof, June had barely arrived on Audubon Drive when Elvis wanted to take her to his room. They'd been in there together countless times, but this one was different. Elvis closed the door. "I told him no, no, no," June remembers. "I got up and said, 'Keep the door open. I'm not going to stay in here with the door shut.' "

And so their relations.h.i.+p remained unconsummated.

June's visit coordinated with Elvis's rehearsal for his second appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show The Ed Sullivan Show at the end of October. For days, she sat on the floor, enthralled at being surrounded by Elvis and the Jordanaires, the vocal backing group he used in concert and on records. She and Elvis often harmonized in the car on such songs as "Side by Side" and the old hymn "In the Garden." Now, in rehearsal with the Jordanaires on "Love Me Tender," she felt free to jump right in. She'd hang on to Gordon Stoker's ringing tenor, and if Gordon stopped and she kept on, "Elvis would just look at me and grin." at the end of October. For days, she sat on the floor, enthralled at being surrounded by Elvis and the Jordanaires, the vocal backing group he used in concert and on records. She and Elvis often harmonized in the car on such songs as "Side by Side" and the old hymn "In the Garden." Now, in rehearsal with the Jordanaires on "Love Me Tender," she felt free to jump right in. She'd hang on to Gordon Stoker's ringing tenor, and if Gordon stopped and she kept on, "Elvis would just look at me and grin."

Before leaving for New York, she and Elvis saw a rough cut of the movie with his parents. Elvis found it difficult to watch his performance, but then it was so hard to keep up with all the whirling emotions of fame. Variety, Variety, the show business trade paper, had just declared, "Elvis a Millionaire in 1 Year," based on the projections of his income from the movie contracts, records, song publis.h.i.+ng, merchandising, and concerts. the show business trade paper, had just declared, "Elvis a Millionaire in 1 Year," based on the projections of his income from the movie contracts, records, song publis.h.i.+ng, merchandising, and concerts.

While June was still visiting, Elvis came home with a "big ol' box of cash from the bank in tens, twenties, and hundreds. He sat on the floor and he said, 'June, would you like to see a million dollars?' And he threw it up in the air." Gladys and Vernon walked in, and Vernon held his head. "Are you crazy, son?" he said, and scrambled to pick it all up.

June wondered for a minute if she should grab some, but she knew it wasn't the right thing to do. One reason Elvis liked her, she thought, was because she wouldn't take anything from him.

The money had probably been a test, a suggestion from Parker, who often left people alone with large amounts of cash to see if he could trust them. June, who despised Parker and thought he schemed to keep her and Elvis apart, had been thinking a lot about him lately, wondering why the Colonel and Nick Adams seemed to be so chummy. Nick arrived for yet another visit on October 23, four days into her own stay in Memphis, and he planned to go with Elvis to New York for the Sullivan show.

"He was constantly stuck up Elvis's b.u.t.t," she fumed. In her heart of hearts, she believed that Nick was on the Colonel's payroll, that he kept an eye out for whatever went on and reported back to him. She also believed the Colonel promoted Elvis's relations.h.i.+p with Natalie Wood for publicity value.

Still, June was stunned to learn that Natalie was coming to Memphis during Nick's extended stay. "Elvis didn't invite Natalie," she says. "Nick did, and the Colonel made all the arrangements." The actor Robert Vaughn, with whom Natalie had just become involved, thought she did it for spite, to make him jealous. Others believe she came because she cared for Elvis and still hoped to spark their romance.

No matter why Natalie agreed to come to Memphis, it was uncomfortable for everyone, even before she got there. Nick kept asking Elvis when June was going to leave. "There's not room for Natalie, if June's going to be here," he said one day in her presence. It got her hackles up. "I said, 'No, Nick, you've got that backward. There's not room for me me.' "

Elvis stepped in the middle.

"I don't care," he said. "June's going to stay."

Finally, June announced she was going home to Biloxi when Elvis left for New York. Nick seemed relieved. But June disliked him for another reason, too: "Nick tried to put his hands on me. He came on to me. I said, 'You touch me one more time, you're in trouble.' "

She never told Elvis about it, because "Elvis felt sorry for him. Nick came across as a basically decent kid, but I really think he was bad for Elvis."

She suspected, in fact, that Nick introduced Elvis to prescription drugs, more specifically to speed. She knew that Elvis took No-Doz pills, which contained caffeine, but that was all. "Nick was always up, always wired. Before he got there, Elvis was easy and laid-back. But when Nick got there, Elvis seemed to be wired, too. And you can't get that wired from cola or coffee, and that's about all Elvis drank."

Certainly Elvis did not seem himself during Natalie's visit. Or at least Phillip Barber didn't think so. Phillip was a freshman at Memphis State that fall. A native of d.i.c.kson, Tennessee, he had decided to go to school in Memphis partly out of his love for Elvis's music. He hoped to practice law in the music business, so enthralled was he with rhythm and blues, and rock and roll. Phillip often hung out at the Cotton Club in West Memphis, Arkansas, where he became entranced with Barbara Pittman, who sang with Clyde Leoppard's Snearly Ranch Boys. A former neighbor of the Presleys from the projects, Barbara was the only female recording artist on Sun Records. didn't think so. Phillip was a freshman at Memphis State that fall. A native of d.i.c.kson, Tennessee, he had decided to go to school in Memphis partly out of his love for Elvis's music. He hoped to practice law in the music business, so enthralled was he with rhythm and blues, and rock and roll. Phillip often hung out at the Cotton Club in West Memphis, Arkansas, where he became entranced with Barbara Pittman, who sang with Clyde Leoppard's Snearly Ranch Boys. A former neighbor of the Presleys from the projects, Barbara was the only female recording artist on Sun Records.

Like Elvis, she'd sung at the Eagle's Nest. And she'd been in love with him ever since they met, remembering how silly he'd been to put black shoe polish on his hair to look like Tony Curtis. ("Look, there is no blond-headed idol except James Dean.") One day, they'd performed together on Jackson Avenue at the Little Flower Catholic Church, and "after the show it started pouring down rain. Black shoe polish was coming out all over Elvis's face. He could almost do an Al Jolson."

They were tight enough that Elvis had taken her Sun publicity picture, and sometimes, if Sam and Marion had to be out, Elvis and Barbara would go down in the afternoons after work and take care of the studio. "A lot of people were talking to Elvis on the phone at that time and never even knew it."

Phillip had been to see Barbara one night that fall, leaving a little after 1 A.M. A.M., and then driving over by Elvis's house on Audubon Drive. There was always something going on there when Elvis was in town, but on this night, he was surprised to see Elvis standing out front with a guy he eventually figured out was Nick Adams.

It looked like a loose enough gathering, so Phillip parked his car and walked over and stood on the edge of the "guy contingency," where Elvis was talking to five teenage girls who worked at a Krystal hamburger stand. They were all hanging around the iron gate that closed off the driveway, the girls t.i.ttering and laughing and asking Elvis questions.

It was easy for Phillip to join in because "they were very congenial to me," but then the talk turned "really rough, considering the day and time. One of the girls said to Elvis, 'We came by here Monday night. Were you here?' He said, 'Yeah.' And she said, 'Well, what were you doing?' He said, 'Oh, I was sitting in there, watching you all drive by and jacking off.' "

Phillip was shocked that Elvis would use that kind of language ("I came from a small rural town, and boy, you didn't ever say that, not even to men, much less in front of women"), but he wrote it off to the fact that Elvis was now "an urbane, sophisticated, uptown man, an actor in the movies."

Then one of the girls wanted to know about Natalie. "Is she here now?" she asked. "Yeah," Elvis said. "She's in the house asleep."

"We read about you going together," she purred.

"Aw, naw," Elvis told her. "She's just a kid."

By now, the crowd had grown larger, but it was still made up mostly of females and married couples. Then about 2:30 A.M. A.M., Phillip noticed a car pull up. "This girl got out, and squealed and ran over and grabbed Elvis, and just kissed him a big wet kiss." Phillip recognized her immediately. She was Barbara Pittman, the singer he'd just been to see. "She just glued herself to him, and then he was pretty much occupied with her for the rest of the night." Later, Barbara would tell Phillip that Elvis called her his "Little Vibrator," because when she got around him, "I'd just get so giddy and wiggly."

When Phillip got ready to leave that night, Elvis said, "Come back tomorrow. We'll be out here." The next afternoon, when Phillip returned, Natalie was in the yard, inside the low fence, signing autographs. Elvis introduced them, and she shook Phillip's hand and smiled, and went on back to signing. But Natalie didn't like such familiarity with fans and was astonished that Elvis permitted them to be so intrusive, even letting them look in the windows. She hadn't known anybody like him, and he mystified her sometimes. They were just so different.

"I hadn't been around anyone who was religious," she said later. "He felt he had been given this gift, this talent, by G.o.d. He didn't take it for granted. He thought it was something that he had to protect. He had to be nice to people, otherwise, G.o.d would take it all away."

On the whole, her visit hadn't gone well. Elvis tooled the pet.i.te star around town in the white Lincoln, stopping for ice cream at the Fairgrounds. But he didn't really know what to do with her, so he drove her down to Tupelo to show her where he started out, took her over to meet Dewey Phillips, and rode her around on his huge new Harley-Davidson motorcycle. But n.o.body seemed to be having a good time. Not really. She watched him play touch football in Guthrie Park, where Nick tentatively joined in, but she was bored.

The most exciting part was the inventive way Elvis escaped the fans who'd gathered by game's end: He casually drew a comb from his pocket, waved it through his hair, and then nonchalantly threw it out on the field. When the girls sprang to get it, he and Natalie dashed off the other way for the Harley, speeding off on Chelsea Avenue.

Once during Natalie's visit, he stopped by to see Barbara Hearn. They talked and visited a little while, and then Barbara's aunt went to the window. "Elvis," she said, "who's that out there on your motorcycle?"

"Well, that's Natalie Wood."

"He'd just left her out there in front, waiting for him," as Barbara tells it. "My aunt said, 'Why don't you tell her to come inside?' And he said, 'No, I'm leaving,' and off he went. By then, he wasn't as much in tune with people's feelings. He was a caring, feeling person by nature, but I think that was being taken away from him. He was losing it."

Gladys was also losing it, but in a different way. "Man, Gladys was stoned 'til Sunday morning," said Barbara Pittman. "She couldn't even get up to go to church. I shouldn't say that about Gladys. I loved her very much. But Vernon was a pretty heavy drinker, too. He just enjoyed having all that free booze and free life because he never worked anyway. He always had a 'bad back.' "

Natalie's visit exacerbated everything with Gladys, and it was obvious even to people who didn't know her well. When Wink Martindale and his TV cohost, Susie Bancroft, went out to the house during Nick and Natalie's visit, "We just sang and stood around a lot. . . . I remember his mother being there and seeming so out of place."

It just made Gladys wild. She complained to her sister Lillian that Natalie was "too fond of the men-didn't even finish her meal when Nick Adams and the boys came over." She was so upset that she vented to Barbara, too.

"She didn't like provocative women, and she called me and said Natalie was walking around the house in a flimsy nightgown in front of the men who were working on the house. She thought that was thoroughly bad behavior, and said she would be glad when Natalie left."

Natalie felt the same way. Three days into what was supposed to be a weeklong stay, she aborted her visit, flying back to L.A. in tight toreador pants with Nick at her side. Robert Vaughn met her at the airport, and photographers snapped pictures of Elvis's "new girlfriend." Her William Morris agent, Michael Zimring, said, "She looked like a rat that [had] died. I don't think she'd been to sleep for a week."

In her book, Natalie, a Memoir by Her Sister, Natalie, a Memoir by Her Sister, Lana Wood recounts that the family helped Natalie cook up the sudden departure. She'd called home moaning that Elvis's mother was domineering and jealous. "Gladys has wrecked everything," Natalie said. "I don't have a chance. Get me out of this, and fast." It was agreed that Maria would call Natalie back and ask her to come home because of an emergency. Lana Wood recounts that the family helped Natalie cook up the sudden departure. She'd called home moaning that Elvis's mother was domineering and jealous. "Gladys has wrecked everything," Natalie said. "I don't have a chance. Get me out of this, and fast." It was agreed that Maria would call Natalie back and ask her to come home because of an emergency.

The romance was over.

"G.o.d, it was awful," Natalie told Lana later. "He can sing, but he can't do much else."

After that, whenever Natalie's name came up, Elvis laughed. "Heaven help us!" he said. "That girl is crazy!"

However, Elvis would have no shortage of entertaining friends, as two days after Natalie's departure, he asked Cliff Gleaves to move into the house as a "gofer" to make things easier for himself and his parents. Gladys accepted him but wished her son would be more selective of his companions. A ne'er-do-well, Gleaves was a flunky deejay from Jackson, Tennessee, and a pal of Dewey Phillips. He looked as if he slept in his clothes. But he had an offbeat and riotous sense of humor, and he wasn't beyond trying any sort of con-gypping restaurateurs out of a huge steak dinner, for example-which amused Elvis no end. In the future, Elvis would suspend him from the group for outrageous grifting and unspeakable hooliganisms, only to take him back. But for now, he had his place. Natalie's departure, he asked Cliff Gleaves to move into the house as a "gofer" to make things easier for himself and his parents. Gladys accepted him but wished her son would be more selective of his companions. A ne'er-do-well, Gleaves was a flunky deejay from Jackson, Tennessee, and a pal of Dewey Phillips. He looked as if he slept in his clothes. But he had an offbeat and riotous sense of humor, and he wasn't beyond trying any sort of con-gypping restaurateurs out of a huge steak dinner, for example-which amused Elvis no end. In the future, Elvis would suspend him from the group for outrageous grifting and unspeakable hooliganisms, only to take him back. But for now, he had his place.

Through Cliff, Elvis became reaquainted with Lamar Fike, a three-hundred-pound Memphian who'd tried to break into radio through George Klein. Fike, who lived at the YMCA, was comical-looking-he'd soon start wearing yellow cowboy boots-but he had a first-rate mind, and in time Elvis would invite him into the entourage.

For now, Elvis was still traveling with his cousin Gene Smith, though Bitsy Mott, the Colonel's brother-in-law and a former professional baseball player, had joined him as head of security. On November 8, 1956, the three of them boarded a train for Las Vegas. Elvis needed to shake off all the voodoo from Nick and Natalie, as well as his jitters about Love Me Tender, Love Me Tender, which would open in New York on November 15. which would open in New York on November 15.

He stayed at the New Frontier, where he had played earlier in the year, and immediately began seeing nineteen-year-old Marilyn Evans, a showgirl at the hotel. He'd walked into the employees-only coffee shop at the casino and sat at her table. "Wow," she thought. "He's beautiful-really, truly."

Within an hour, he had slipped her a scrawled note on the back of a napkin: "Can I have a date with you tomorrow night or before I leave?"

"Elvis told Marilyn he likes her because she doesn't act like a showgirl, because he's real," her mother bragged to her hometown paper, The Fres...o...b..e, The Fres...o...b..e, at the time. He invited Marilyn to come visit him in Memphis the following month. at the time. He invited Marilyn to come visit him in Memphis the following month.

But then he met Dottie Harmony, a blond, eighteen-year-old dancer at the Thunderbird who had a friend who worked at the New Frontier. Elvis kept trying to get her attention, sending requests to her table for her to join him, but she ignored him. Then all of a sudden she looked over, "and there was Elvis on his knee, saying, 'Ma'am, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life. Would you have a drink with me?"

From then on, he spent the rest of his vacation with her. They talked a lot-he made her call her mother, like he did every night-but mainly they just hung out, driving to the airport and watching the planes take off, going to the Vegas shows, even helping an old man change a tire one night. She was a little frightened at how jealous Elvis got when other men looked her up and down, and when they fought, he'd get so angry he'd rip the phone out of the wall. "But next thing I knew it was always fixed again."

Even though it was Dottie he liked, on December 4, Elvis made good on his promise to bring Marilyn Evans to Audubon Drive, where "that phone just rang and n.o.body answered, which was odd." Elvis made no moves on her ("He was extremely honorable"), and treated her to the usual motorcycle rides and eating out. But they quickly realized there was nothing between them. "I always preferred cla.s.sical music," for starters. "We were just into different things, not that one is better than the other."

Evans would have been a totally forgettable presence in Elvis's life except for one stop they made during her visit. It was at the Sun Studio, where Carl Perkins was recording, with Jerry Lee Lewis playing piano on the session. Johnny Cash also dropped by, and Sam Phillips called the newspaper, which sent over a photographer as the tape rolled. The recordings would become famous as the "Million Dollar Quartet" session (though Cash doesn't really sing). And though Marilyn is often cropped out of the iconic photograph, in the full shot, she's clearly on the right, seated atop the piano. Her voice can be heard on the recordings, requesting a song, "End of the Road." Hearing it now, she says, is "otherworldly . . . out of body."

Just over a week later, Elvis had another guest, Hollywood director Hal Kanter, who was set to helm Elvis's next picture Loving You, Loving You, his first for Paramount and Hal Wallis. Kanter, writing with Herbert Baker, would loosely base his screenplay on Elvis's own story-a truck driver with a knack for a song catches the eye of a manipulative press agent, who propels him to fame. his first for Paramount and Hal Wallis. Kanter, writing with Herbert Baker, would loosely base his screenplay on Elvis's own story-a truck driver with a knack for a song catches the eye of a manipulative press agent, who propels him to fame.

Kanter, a southerner himself, born in Savannah, Georgia, had come to the project after running into Wallis, who said, as the director remembers, "I want you to come see a test of a young man. I want you to see if you can do a picture with him."

"What's his name?"

"Elvis Presley."

"You must be kidding."

"Just look at the test, will you?"

Kanter agreed but surely in vain. "Foolishly, I subscribed to the generation that said, 'He's just a pa.s.sing fancy, a nasty little boy.' " But he walked out of the screening room with a different att.i.tude. He thought Elvis was "dynamite."

Wallis had a first-draft screenplay, Lonesome Cowboy, Lonesome Cowboy, which Kanter completely rewrote with the t.i.tle which Kanter completely rewrote with the t.i.tle Stranger in Town Stranger in Town. Then the director went to Memphis to meet Elvis. There, he sampled Gladys's chicken and okra on Audubon Drive, "a modest home . . . decorated in a style that displayed more financial success than taste," he would write in his autobiography, So Far, So Funny: My Life in Show Business. So Far, So Funny: My Life in Show Business. He didn't like the meal very much, either. He didn't like the meal very much, either.

Afterward, Elvis had a question for him. Was his character, Deke Rivers, required to smile much in the movie?

"What do you mean, do you have to smile?"

"Well, I've been watching a lot of movies. People like Jimmy Dean and Humphrey Bogart and Marlon Brando. Good actors. They hardly ever ever smile. And the women smile. And the women love 'em, love 'em, because they because they don't don't smile." smile."

Elvis brought the director up short. That had never occurred to him, but Elvis was right.

"He said, 'When I smile, I want it to be an event.' And I said, 'Very well put.' "

Then Elvis told him he didn't think he was much of an actor, but he was working on being true to the words. "I figure if I make people believe the words, that's all that counts." Kanter again told Elvis he was astute, and then Gene Smith goaded Elvis into doing what he called "the piece."

Elvis said, "No, no, no, I don't want to."

"Go ahead, go ahead, Elvis, do the piece for the man! Do the piece piece!"

Elvis stood up, and Kanter expected him to start, "The boy stood on the burning deck . . ." Instead, he was amazed as Elvis recited Douglas MacArthur's "Farewell Address to Congress."

"I'm not a fan of Douglas MacArthur, but it was pretty good."

The next evening, they all left Memphis in a two-car caravan, Kanter riding with Elvis to Shreveport to witness his last appearance on the Louisiana Hayride on December 15. This was the benefit show that Parker had promised as part of Elvis's contract buyout (the Shreveport YMCA would get a new swimming pool out of the deal), and attendance was expected to be so large that the organizers moved it to the largest facility in town, the Hirsch Coliseum, also known as the Youth Center, at the Louisiana Fairgrounds. Every ticket had been sold.

"I observed that concert, and things I saw there I later used on-screen. I re-created some of it. There were some things that happened there that I couldn't re-create, because people wouldn't believe it. It was absolutely unbelievable, the things that I saw."

It was true. Horace Logan had the roof of his 1955 Mercury hardtop stomped in by teenage girls. He'd parked it in the back of the Coliseum, in a place that seemed perfectly safe. But the kids had stood on it, dancing to the music, or used it as a trampoline to try to see through the Coliseum's twelve-foot windows. "It looked like an elephant had danced a jig on it," Logan lamented. "The top was pushed in so far it was practically touching the backs of the seats."

Then there was the child who swallowed her hand, or at least Kanter thought she had. "She appeared to have her hand in her mouth all the way down to her wrist, and I was wondering, 'How can a little girl like this get her whole hand down her throat?' And then at one point she pulled her hand out of her mouth, and I found out she didn't have a hand at all. She was just sucking on the stump. I thought, 'G.o.d, I've got to get that in the picture!' "

At first, however, Kanter wondered if he would even survive the trip to Shreveport.