Tennessee is such a wonderful name; I don’t know why. It just sort of rolls off the tongue. My journey to Memphis was by Greyhound, and after my earlier Greyhound experiences, I really was not looking forward to it. But I am very much in countdown mode now, only three more bus journeys to go. After this one, one long one and one short one. I keep telling myself I can cope.
I got to the bus by Uber, having managed to grab a quick bite at the hotel and then was whisked away in my chariot, saying goodbye to the lovely city of New Orleans. I just wish I had more time to get to know it better. Maybe one day I will be back, who knows? At the bus station, I got my bag tagged and got in the queue.
The first leg was to Baton Rouge about an hour and a half, not too bad. The bus was quite full, but I got myself settled in and before long was in the waiting room at Baton Rouge waiting for my connection. The next bus was virtually empty, what a difference it makes when the bus isn’t crammed full of people.
However, it was a little scary getting onto the second bus, I had noticed two police officers standing near the ticket office, and just before boarding I noticed one of them had put blue plastic gloves on! As we boarded, they approached the queue and were watching everyone. Once aboard they too boarded the bus and reminded everyone that it was a federal offence to carry any weapons on a bus and mentioned that drugs were also forbidden.
Then they said they wanted to search our bags and interview us, and we might need to provide identification. Good job I am a good girl. My bags were both searched, and all was good. I did find the whole thing a little disconcerting, it was as though they had had some sort of tip off, but no one was arrested or turfed off the bus.
After that excitement the journey was uneventful. Just very long. At Memphis, my host had offered to pick me up at the station, which was extremely kind. A great lady called Heidi, who loves travelling and has a very old VW Camper. Her house was fab, very eclectic and my room was extremely comfortable.
I was starving so we ordered Chinese food and sat chatting in the kitchen for an hour or so. One of those times when you just click. Early night. Tomorrow’s plan was Graceland and possibly the civil rights museum which was highly recommended. Then going to Beale Street for some blues with Heidi in the evening.
Arriving at Graceland was a bit strange. All the local businesses were named after Graceland, which was quite amusing and then we pulled into the entrance way, which is across the road from the house, which is Graceland, although you don’t realise that at the time. His two planes are right there at the entrance and of course you can pay to see them, but I had been advised not to bother.
I made my way to the main entrance, paid my fee to get in and we are all shepherded into a little cinema to watch a film. From there they moved us outside to catch a little bus across the road to Graceland itself, and we are given headsets and iPads to hang around our necks. Very chic! NOT. They also took our photographs and later tried to charge us almost 40 dollars, no thank you! It was horrid! We were instructed on what to do with the iPads, but to be honest they were a bit of a pain, whilst they gave you a commentary, it iPad often moved on to the next room before you could. I was constantly forward and back to get to where I needed to be, (on the iPad that is not the house). Although there were not many of us on the bus, there was a VIP tour being taken around and of course we were not allowed to be near them, so it was a bit painful looking around the house. The grounds were easier though. The house was a mish mash of styles, and quite outdated, given that Elvis died in 1977 and in some rooms the décor was most definitely over the top.
It is quite a big house, but not as big as people imagine it is going to be. The front entrance leads into quite nice hallway, and there are some customised stained-glass pieces in the window around the door.
From there you can peer into the rooms. The main living area leads onto a music room with a white grand piano, the decor is all white, black and gold with some more stained glass between the main living room and the music room. Elegant, but dated.
Then you can look into Elvis parents’ bedroom which is downstairs, with some of his mother’s clothes hanging behind glass in the wardrobe. A very simple but elegant room. The staircase is cordoned off as upstairs is still used by the family.
The next room is the dining room which they say is still used by the family. It has a television and Elvis used to watch the television when eating his dinner. Every room has a television set. Again, another quite elegant room, but this does look less dated. There are photographs everywhere of the family. They talk a lot about how happy he was here with his family, but don’t talk about what happened later. Did he continue to live there when he had divorced Priscilla. The marriage was only short lived, about six years, after an eight-year courtship. From the dining room you get a glimpse of the kitchen, very big, and was in constant use by all accounts.
Then we are led downstairs but in small groups, down there are the Den and the Billiards room. The Den again is all white and gold, and the Billiards room has ruched fabric covering all the walls and the ceiling.
Back upstairs now to get a glimpse of the jungle room with a green shag pile carpet, and the furniture is pretty way out too.
After that we are led outside, firstly into the offices and then past the paddock where the horses are and then into a gallery with some paper memorabilia. Then out past the swimming pool into the remembrance area, where (much to my surprise) I was told Elvis is buried with his mother, father and grandmother. Apparently, they had to move him from his original burial place because of all the fans were constantly there.
We were then bussed back across the road. I had paid for the full experience, so was allowed into another area. This was made up of several big spaces, firstly all his cars, and a film running of him in his films with some of the cars which were on display.
Another area had all his costumes, mainly from the later years when he used to wear the one-piece outfits.
There was also an area related to his time in the army, and a whole setting of Sun records. By the time I got there I had started to fade a little, it would have been good to have seats in each area because it was set up well with a film running of what happened in each room, but I couldn’t stand and watch each of those, even though I would have liked too. I finally made it out of there and into the cafe set up like a 60s place, for lunch and to rest my weary feet.
Graceland was quite empty, I had come early in the morning, but still I was surprised by how few people seemed to be there. The other thing that I really struck me about the visit was that there was no talk of the bad times, only the good. I think his story should be told in full, the way they talk about the marriage and everything it’s as though it went on forever. As we all know he died of some sort of drug overdose and was addicted to prescription drugs. My Uber driver on the way back to my Air BNB said he went to school with the daughter of the doctor who gave him his drugs, small world.
My question is why we don’t tell the world of the story of his addiction. In this day and age when the drug scene is much bigger and we are losing so many young people especially in America, why aren’t we telling these stories as they were instead of sugar coating the reality. That doesn’t mean I was not glad to go and see the place, but I just feel we should be telling people particularly our young people the truth and not just idolising those who have been lost to drug abuse. I felt myself coming away with more questions because it was a long time ago and I couldn’t remember. I do have one more thing to say though, he was such a good-looking young man!
I decided that the civil rights museum would be too much, so had a rest and caught up with a bit of writing. That evening Heidi and I went out to Beale Street, she is a big blues fan and chose to live in Memphis partly because of that. Unfortunately for us it was some sort of public holiday so none of the usual bands were on, so we finally found somewhere to listen to a set having walked the length and back of Beale Street. I had another early start the next day, so back to the house and in bed at a reasonable hour.
