Yes, you heard me correctly. It’s time to own this weird, little facet of my personality. When I was 10 years old, I hear a TV commercial advertising an album of Elvis’ greatest hits. I love the sound of him and the rhythm. I asked my Mom, if I saved my allowance, would she write a check for the mail order. She did…and cursed that day for several years thereafter.
Ten-year-olds are in that industrious stage psychologists refer to as “latency.” One characteristic of this time of life is the desire to collect things. Some kids have a box of things under their beds – strange little treasures. Some, boys especially, get into baseball cards or comic books. I fell for Elvis. I listened to the albums in the basement and tried to learn the moves. I had nearly 21 records eventually, and saw 31 of his 33 movies. I was relentless in pursuit of all things "Elvis." When my grandparents took me to Ireland and England IN THE SUMMER OF 1976, I used ALL the American Express Travelers Cheques to buy “bootleg” Elvis memorabilia – which you just couldn’t get in America. My Mom was NOT happy. I, on the other hand, was delirious. One of the albums actually included a swatch of his jumpsuit! (It was just a worthless piece of material, but the possibility of authenticity made it too tempting.) I was just two years into this obsession when Elvis Presley died – August 16, 1977. I was devastated. My Dad, who always just accepted my weirdness, brought home every paper from New York City that day. He knew the depth of my groupie-grief.
Fast-forward about 20 years to Collegeville, MN. I am studying for an advanced degree at one of the finest Benedictine seminaries in America. A package arrives from my brother-in-law, Mark, by Federal Express. (Mark’s brother, + GOD rest his soul, actually knew Elvis when they were teens living in Memphis.) I opened the box and I was 12 years old again. It contained a yellow dinner jacket worn by Elvis in the 1968 movie, “Speedway.” It was given to Mark’s brother and then came into Mark’s hands. Inside was a patch sown in the lining by the studio. It was the real deal. I wore the jacket. I danced in the jacket. OK, I even smelled the jacket. (We believe in relics, right?) And, there were witnesses – my prioress among them. Then, I mailed it to the auction house in NYC, as my brother-in-law had instructed.
Today is the OTHER king’s birthday. He would have been 74 today. Sister Charlotte got me a life-size Elvis to hang up. (Actually, she put him in my favorite chair at home before I woke up. I carried my prayer books downstairs, as usual, and when I got to my chair, I let out a girly scream because it looked so much like a real man. So much for holy silence! We were both hysterical once I realized what was going on.) Now, Elvis is in my doorway at school. Our students don’t know much about him (with the exception of a few songs from the Disney film, “Lilo and Stitch,” and the opening theme of a TV show about gambling.) Our girls don’t know that Elvis came to Richmond, VA in the summer of 1956. (Our Sister Charlotte Lee was THERE! The old Mosque Theater was packed with squealing, fainting teens. And, I wasn’t even a glimmer in my mother’s eyes.)
Like Marilyn Monroe or John Lennon, we can never know the whole story or the sufferings that accompany celebrity in America. We can only bless GOD for the gifts they shared and wish them peace in the Kingdom – where EVERY wound is healed and we are made whole again. Did you know that Elvis’ only Grammy awards were for gospel music? Yup. Now, he sings forever before the true King of kings. Next time you hear an Elvis song, say a prayer for him. And, if you ever meet an Elvis-geek like me, have mercy and ask them to show you a few moves. They’ll do it. Trust me…
Blessings and love to you all…
- Sister Vicki
Blessings and love to you all…
- Sister Vicki
