Reflection on Graceland
Unlike most people in my generation, I intended to remember my 21st birthday. I love to travel so when my dad suggested we take a road trip to celebrate my big day, I was thrilled with the opportunity! The major dilemma was where to go. Of course, the obvious answer seemed to be to see something we had not seen before. There were quite a few appealing places in the east – Washington, D.C., historic Williamsburg, Virginia, the Atlantic Ocean, Nashville and the Grand Ole Opry, my most-favored destination, Graceland – and not able to pick just one or two, we decided to take a tour and see all of them.Washington, D.C. was our first stop. The nation’s capitol, rich with history and marked so definitively by massive monuments, was absolutely breath-taking! At each monument, I was nearly spellbound as I stood gazing up at it. Dwarfed not only by the magnificence, but also the significance of each historical marker, I was in awe as my mind tried feebly to capture the wonder of it all both architecturally and historically. I didn’t want to leave. The feeling of patriotism and pride was unlike any I’d ever felt before. This is my country’s heritage. This is part of who I am. I had not imagined I would be affected so deeply. In my expectations, I had believed Graceland would be my favorite spot. Visiting Graceland had been described to me as a “religious experience”. Never had I heard that about D.C. and I was afraid that now Graceland would be a disappointment.
But never should I have worried. Literally the moment we pulled into the Visitor center, I began to feel the magic. I had butterflies in my stomach – almost as if I were going to meet the King of Rock n’ Roll himself! It was an inexplicable feeling of anticipation. It has been said that if you’re an Elvis fan, no explanation is necessary. If you’re not an Elvis fan, there is no explanation. From the visitor center, we were taken on a bus down the street to the Graceland Mansion. As we pulled up to the iron gate decorated with a staff of musical notes and an Elvis silhouette, it began opening slowly as if allowing us time to savor this moment. The bus drove along the winding driveway that cut through acres of freshly mown grass, the magnificent lawn was populated by just enough mature trees to create shade over the entire estate. As we were dropped off at the front steps with about 20 other people, I could feel the excitement, the anticipation; although, I’m sure if excitement could be measured, mine alone would have topped the charts. In just moments, we would be entering the beautiful mansion with its stately white columns and gray bricks. We were given headphones that would serve as our tour guides. When we entered a room, we would press a button and the earphones would tell us all about that room – its history, its décor, its significance in our hero’s life. When it was done, we could stay in the room as long as we wished. I could tour at my own pace and memorize every detail. The rooms were decorated in fashions of the 1960’s and 1970’s era and they were beautiful even if somewhat gaudy. The main room had white carpet and a white grand piano in it, and in stark contrast, there were two stained glass windows depicting bright blue peacocks. This was my favorite. More hues of brown, orange, gold, even avocado green shag carpet on the ceiling were all hand-picked by Mr. Presley giving us a glimpse of his eccentric tastes. To the sounds of “You Ain’t Nothin’ but a Hound Dog” and “Heartbreak Hotel”, we were led down halls showcasing many of Elvis’ authentic costumes and decorated with thousands of records marking his glorious and successful music career. Among many of Elvis’ things were religious books. I don’t recall all of the religions represented but I remember there was a book about Buddhism and a Holy Bible in the assortment. All of the books were heavily annotated, marked with questions and highlighted with possible answers.
At the end of the tour, I was guided into the backyard where Elvis is buried with his beloved mother and father, Gladys and Vernon Presley, and his twin brother who was stillborn. It was a couple days past the 28th anniversary of Elvis’ death and I was stunned by the amount of flowers, gifts and notes that were on his grave, all around the other graves, lining the walkway, and all around the lawn. There were flowers of all colors and varieties, some even arranged in elaborate expressions of love, “Elvis, we miss you”. It had been so many years since his tragic death yet there were notes, letters and cards from adoring fans, many accompanied by pictures stacked several inches deep. I was overcome with emotion. I had tears in my eyes as I read some of the notes that were close enough to be read in the sea of tributes to Elvis. I cried for Elvis and I cried for these people who missed him so. As I read the inscription on his tombstone, “He was a precious gift from God. We cherished and loved him dearly… We miss you, son and daddy. I thank God that He gave you to us as our son. By: Vernon Presley”, I cried for his family as I empathized with their loss. I wished I could have lived when he lived, experienced the culture, the music, the media-hype of a living Elvis. I cried for me and the injustice of it all. And I cried as I wondered if he found what he was searching for in those books. Did Elvis make his peace with God?
I saw many wonderful landmarks in our nation on this vacation and many since but never have I been so touched by history. On my birthday, as I thought of my life ahead of me, I realized that my life is not my own. I may not have thousands of visitors each year visiting a museum with my name on it, but my life will affect some people and I don’t know how long I have to make an impact. I have to make the most of every day. So, thank you, Elvis. I will always remember.
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