Elvis Death Day: When true Elvis fans come out

Jan 8, 2010, 6:57 GMT

Berlin/Memphis, Tennessee - Elvis fans might celebrate Elvis Presley's birthday annually, but they celebrate the anniversary of his death passionately.

It's fine and good to listen to your old Elvis records and eat your favourite Elvis foods every January 8. But the true Elvis devotee is expected to show up for the memorial ceremonies to mark his August 16 death day.

My year came in 1997, the 20th anniversary of his demise.

Friends and family had noticed an interest - obsession, perhaps - growing when it came to Elvis Presley for about a decade by that point. With the summer free and two friends willing to share the ride and the costs, we headed off in August 1997 for Memphis, Tennessee, figuring that Elvis Death Day, as we called it, would be the time to experience Graceland, previous visits notwithstanding.

We were so unprepared.

Graceland in the days leading up to the anniversary of Elvis' death is more of a carnival crossed with an Elvis impersonator convention than a standard tourist attraction.

Even by Elvis standards, Elvis Presley Boulevard, which divides Elvis' mansion from a strip mall of souvenir shops, museums and eateries, can verge on the ... tacky. During this week in August, it's an explosion of lights, sound, personalities - all to a neverending Elvis soundtrack consisting largely of his rendition of My Way.

We did have the foresight to rent a room in advance. But the few months of advance time we'd allowed ourselves meant we could only secure a spot on the far side of town, nowhere near the action.

True Elvis fans stay in the Days Inn Memphis, diagonally across from Graceland, with its 24-hour Elvis movies on closed-circuit TV and a guitar-shaped swimming pool. Extra points if you set up a table in front of your hotel room selling trinkets.

Then there are the sights and shopping.

Want an Elvis belt buckle? It's just a question of what size your belt can stand and how much you want to fork out. Elvis T-shirt? Hundreds of choices. Elvis playing cards? Check. If you got to Graceland before the era of political correctness, you could have found a Confederate flag emblazoned with Elvis' face.

You want diversity? There were Sikh, black, white, male, female and country-style Elvi (or Elvises, depending on your Elvis-fan leaning), both fat and skinny, young and old.

Eventually, it was time to participate in the graveside, candlelight vigil. The line didn't look too bad, we thought, stretching just from the gate to the far corner of the Graceland estate. Only upon closer examination, did we realize, to our dismay, that it doubled back upon itself five times.

Neophytes that we were, we had not brought our own candles. Those were distributed by Graceland staff. Having failed to bring something to protect the flame from the wind, we were forced to improvise candleholders out of soda bottles.

Next we learned that a lot of people take this very seriously, are grieving and do not - REPEAT, NOT - appreciate any jokes about Elvis or his storied lifestyle. Our scared silence blended well with the reverent silence all around us.

As the night went on, we did meet some people near us. The two women behind us were even less prepared than we'd been. Memphis residents, they had decided at the last minute to check out the hubbub. After hours in line, they were not about to give up, little knowing it would be almost 5 am before we made it to the grave.

Eventually, we got to the gate, and all joking stopped. On the driveway from the gate to the house - a path not generally open to pedestrians - stood a double line of at least 20 men holding tiki torches - the Honor Guard. Giddy as we were with lack of sleep, no one even dared to crack wise at this point.

From there, the line seemed to move faster. Rounding the house, we came to the cemetery - usually the end point of a Graceland tour. Again, the more prepared fans were leaving keepsakes - including a giant toothbrush, at least 30 centimetres long - along with bushels of flowers.

We had considered bringing something, but figured anything we might contribute to the heap would just get us in trouble. I was still intimidated by stories of a man ejected from Graceland for attempting to lay a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken on the king's grave.

And then it was over, with dawn creeping onto the horizon.

None of the three of us could have told you exactly why we participated in the event. Well, one member of our party would have said the other two talked him into it, but we were all glad we did. We headed off, got some doughnuts in honour of the king, and headed to bed.