Pssst. Wanna know a secret?

I’m a big Elivs fan.

As a kid I wore out my Live in Hawaii cassette tape and I had a handful of my mother’s 45s that I played so much on my Fisher Price turntable that a permanent groove appeared on their surfaces. My dad is from Memphis so growing up we did the whole Graceland tour and we always watched the Elvis marathons on tv. I’m not a fan of most of his movies but I am a sucker for Viva Las Vegas.

Getting this off my chest feels good.

Today marks the 30th anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley. Of all the great memories I have of listening to Elvis or curling my lip or mimicking his voice and singing along with the oldies station as kid there is one memory that has left the biggest impression on me.

In college, we were living only 2hrs from Memphis. On a particularly boring Saturday morning I turned to my wife and said, “Wanna go to Graceland?” To my surprise she was more than willing to make the trek. We jumped in the car and headed across the Mississippi River toward our destination.

If you’ve never been to Graceland the ticket counters and the giftshops are across the boulevard from the house. You wait in line after choosing which tour package you want and then you take a shuttle across the street. When the tour is over you hop back onto a shuttle and ride to the giftshops.

After walking through the house (which looks like your house just with green shag carpet and and people buried in the backyard by the pool) we rode the shuttle to the giftshops to purchase a reminder of our impulsive trip to Memphis. While Sandy looked at the magnets and other knickknacks I headed to the CDs.

We went the weekend before the Elvis #1 compilation was released to the public and they were selling it there at the giftshop. I was waiting in line waiting to pay and admiring the 8 or 9 big screen tvs playing the Hawaii concert in all its glory when something caught my eye.

There was a young woman sitting on the floor in front of the tvs. At first I thought nothing of it. However, as I watched closely I noticed the she was crying. Again, if you’ve been to Graceland you’ve seen people crying. Then I realized exactly what she was doing.

She was praying to Elvis. She was on her knees rocking back and forth in the middle of the giftshop with a prayer candle (unlit), tear stained cheeks, and open palms facing the screens where a dead pop star was singing “Love Me Tender.” You can’t make that up. I would post a picutre of the event as proof that it actually happened but my wife gave me “the look” when I went to snap a photo. I knew that it would be a no-go. you’ll just have to take my word for it.

That is the image I have now when I see news coverage of vigils outside of Graceland marking Elvis’ birth and death.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget that young woman. It truly was a bizarre sight. As a minister I’ve given the old “Who or what are some false gods that people serve today?” lesson. The pat answers are always money, popularity, and relationships but no one has ever said Elvis.

So the next time your sitting in one of those “Who or what are some false gods that people serve today?” lessons I am begging you to offer up the dead king of rock ‘n roll. Begging you.

Now, I’m going to listen to Suspicious Minds and crank up the volume to 11 because I’m the only one in the office.

Have a great day.