Elvis and Ginger: Elvis Presley's Fiancée and Last Love Finally Tells Her Story (34 page)

All along, Elvis had been saying that God would come through and tell him when the time was right for us to marry. His deep spirituality made him feel that God was working through him, and I appreciated his belief. This night had been a revelation, a time filled with promise and excitement as we planned our future together. I went to bed early that morning, happily thinking that at last Elvis felt the right time for us to marry was drawing near.

•   •   •

I’d been spending so much time at Graceland or touring with Elvis for the past eight months that I hadn’t really seen much of my friends. One day, though, I decided to take my friend Debbie over to Graceland. She had a comical side and was a lot of fun.

When Debbie said she’d love to meet Elvis in person, I shook my head. “He’s asleep,” I said.

She wanted to see him so badly, though, that I finally relented and led her upstairs. Debbie quietly tiptoed into his room and went right up to the bed.

Elvis was facing the opposite way. As my friend leaned over to peer at him, I suddenly remembered his gun, lying on the floor next to the bed.

“Be careful,” I whispered. “If he wakes up, it’ll scare him, and no telling what would happen.”

We retreated downstairs, where we ran into Lisa. She wanted to take us for a ride on her golf cart. The two of us held on for dear life as Lisa sped merrily around the grounds and through the pastures of Graceland.

Another afternoon, one of my dearest friends, Peggy, asked me if I’d go with her one night to listen to some music at a nearby club. I hadn’t seen her in quite a while, so I was happy to go.

When I told Elvis about my plan, he said, “I don’t mind if you go, but don’t stay out too late.”

Peggy and I both had a cocktail at the club. Afterward, I brought her to Graceland to meet Elvis. It wasn’t late, but when we walked upstairs, Elvis was sitting in bed, dressed as usual in pajamas and a robe. I suddenly worried about how he’d feel, having a friend of mine see him this casually dressed, but after I introduced them, Elvis politely said, “Any friend of Ginger’s is a friend of mine.”

Peggy sat down in the chair across from his bed and I sat beside him. “You smell like a brewery,” Elvis said, looking at me.

My face flushed red with embarrassment. I’d only had one drink earlier and felt I hadn’t done anything wrong.

For a split second, Peggy had an expression that telegraphed, “Oops, hope he’s not mad at me.” But she hastily tried to smooth things over. “Congratulations on your engagement,” she said.

“Thank you,” Elvis said.

Peggy had taken karate classes at Memphis State University, so she started talking with Elvis about his own interest in karate. They had a good conversation, and I relaxed.

Elvis played the organ for her a little later. By then it was late, so trying to act more like “the lady of the house,” I decided to invite Peggy to sleep over. We put her in one of the rooms downstairs. I felt content, knowing she was there. Peggy was the first friend I’d ever had stay overnight at Graceland.

•   •   •

I wasn’t totally on Elvis’s sleep schedule and sometimes woke before he did. One day, while Elvis was still sleeping, I decided to venture to the pool behind Graceland and take a swim by myself, just for something to do. I hadn’t been in the water very long when the guard Harold walked by.

Looking at me, he asked, “Excuse me, who are you?”

“I’m Ginger,” I said.

Harold laughed and apologized. “You look much shorter in the water.”

I laughed, too, but I was a little puzzled. Did I look taller, sitting in the car?

I’d spent so much time with Elvis that I’d only ever seen the guards Vester and Harold while I was driving in and out of the gates. I’d hoped to get to know everyone who lived and worked at Graceland better by now, but it wasn’t always easy, since I spent most of my time upstairs with Elvis. Certainly when I became Elvis’s wife and lived at Graceland, though, that would change. I looked forward to knowing them all better.

At Graceland, I usually left my Seville parked out front. One afternoon, Elvis and I were returning from a drive in his Stutz when I saw Dean washing my car. I knew Elvis must have asked him to do this, and I was surprised, as once again it was only dusty. I took good care of my cars. However, I was starting to understand how Elvis kept his cars looking so pristine: It was easy when others were washing them for you. Now Elvis was doing the same for me with my car.

Dean didn’t say anything as Elvis and I walked by. I knew Elvis was paying him, but by the look on Dean’s face, I knew he wasn’t enjoying this particular chore. I hoped he wouldn’t resent me for Elvis having him do this. Dean was another person I would have to get to know better over time, I decided.

•   •   •

One day, Elvis and I were reading through some spiritual books when he brought up a script he hoped to do as a film. “It’s called
The Mission
,” he said.

Elvis didn’t talk in detail about the plot, but my curiosity was aroused. As he continued talking about the script, I understood that Elvis saw it as an extension of what he had been trying to do with his music. The movie would have a spiritual theme and would parallel the books he had been studying. Elvis even mentioned that there were small parts for Terry, Rosemary, and me. He thought he had a copy of the script in the attic and I followed him there to try to find it. The attic was filled with racks of clothing, as well as some trunks and boxes. Elvis began looking through a box, but he was unsure of where the script was, so we returned to his bedroom before too long.

“Would you like to make more movies?” I asked.

Elvis frowned a little. “I’d really like to do a serious one,” he said, “another one without singing.” I had not seen all of Elvis’s films. “Which one didn’t you sing in?” I asked.

“
Charro!
,” he replied.

I hoped that one day he would look for this script again, and that his dream to do this would come true.

Another night, I was in my bathroom at Graceland when the phone on the wall above the toilet rang. It was Elvis, asking me to come into his bedroom.

I slid the folding door aside, walked into the bedroom, and saw Charlie, his hands covered in blood, hovering over Elvis as he relaxed in bed.

“What happened?” I gasped.

“Charlie’s been drinking and smashed his hands through a glass window, somewhere, for some reason,” Elvis said, shaking his head. “He’s cut his knuckles.”

I realized that Elvis wanted me to see this, but I had no idea why. I had come to see Charlie as a jack-of-all-trades who would do anything for Elvis, from coloring his hair to helping out onstage. What would possess him to punch out a window? I wondered, and shuddered a little, remembering the incident where Charlie had been drinking and asked Elvis to hit him.

Without saying a word, Charlie turned, went out the door, and started downstairs. Suddenly, we heard a thud.

Elvis quickly got up and I followed him to the stair landing. Charlie was lying in the foyer, laughing. Looking down at Charlie, Elvis said, “Charlie, get up. You look like a worm.”

Two aides heard the commotion and quickly came to assist Charlie to his feet. “I’m sick of this shit,” Elvis told me, and spun on his heel to return to the bedroom.

As I followed him, I figured the nurse, Tish, would most likely be getting a late-night visit from Charlie.

Elvis took a seat on his bed and picked up a book. “There’s gonna be changes around here, Gingerbread,” he said.

I sensed he wasn’t just talking about redecorating Graceland this time.

I’d been at Graceland a few days straight by then. The next morning, I told Elvis that I needed to go home to get more clothes and check on Odyssey. Luckily, my mom and sisters helped me out by taking care of my dog whenever I needed them to, but I wanted to take my share of the responsibility for him.

“I don’t want you to go,” Elvis said. “I’ll be alone.”

He’d never said this to me before. Knowing that so many others lived and worked at Graceland, I had to wonder how Elvis could feel alone. “Elvis, you have more people around you here than I have at home,” I said.

“They’re not my friends,” Elvis said, surprising me with his candor. “Do you think if it weren’t for their paychecks, they’d still be around?”

I wondered who he meant. Was he doubting the loyalty of some of the people around him as true friends? I knew there were times he’d been displeased about various things and he’d also thought some people weren’t doing their jobs on tour and even at home. Elvis had even mentioned firing a few. He once complained to me that some aides weren’t where they were supposed to be and then called Billy Smith up, asking him to speak with them. Going downstairs later, I saw Billy reprimanding a few of the guys at the dining room table.

I wanted to allay his mood, so I decided to stay one more night. The next day, Elvis didn’t protest as I started to leave. However, when I went downstairs and out to my car, I was shocked to see that the air in all four of my tires had been let out.

I went back upstairs and found Elvis hiding on the floor by my side of the bed, laughing. “I was trying to get you to stay,” he said.

Shaking my head, I gave him a light kiss on the cheek. This was now turning into a humorous battle of wills. I was ready to play.
Well, watch this,
I thought.

I got into my car, drove slowly through the gates, and made it to the nearest gas station. I thought of Elvis hiding and laughing. As an attendant put air into my tires, I couldn’t help but smile.

•   •   •

By now it was August, and with my parents’ divorce moving forward, as part of the agreement, Elvis’s lawyer had asked my father to sign a quit claim deed turning our home over to my mother. True to his promise, Elvis paid my father his equity in the house so the property could belong solely to my mother. None of us knew how we could ever thank Elvis enough for such a magnanimous gesture.

On August 3, I was at Graceland when my mother called to let us know that a huge truck carrying two large pin oak trees had pulled up to our home. The trees were planted on each side of our front walk. A couple of days later, landscapers arrived to plant three more trees and five crepe myrtle shrubs.

Elvis wanted to see our new landscaping. On August 6, he and I left Graceland and went to my house with Charlie. When we arrived, Elvis stood on our front walk for a few minutes, proudly surveying the new greenery.

Afterward, we visited with my mother and sisters at the house for a while. “Now, Mrs. Alden, your mortgage is taken care of and the trees are in,” Elvis said at one point. “All you need is the pool installed, and they should be starting it soon.”

Elvis was in a great mood. Before long, he said to Charlie, “Let’s do a little singing,” and we followed them into our music room.

Charlie sat down at the piano and Elvis began singing “How Great Thou Art” with such power, it felt like the roof would blow off. “Listen to this,” he said a few times, wanting my family to witness how he could hit certain difficult high and low notes. Afterward, he sang “Unchained Melody,” and it cut right through me.

The spell was broken when my brother’s two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Allison, who had been napping in another room, began to cry.

Elvis heard her and walked down the hall to my mother’s room. I followed him and saw Allison lying on the bed, sobbing. Elvis walked up to her, bent over, and kissed her on the forehead.

My mother came in then. She picked Allison up and carried her into the den, where she sat on the sofa with Allison in her lap. Elvis took a seat beside them. He began tickling Allison, trying to make her laugh. Then, making some funny motions with his hands, he playfully said, “Whoop woo, whoop woo, Daddy!”

Allison finally started laughing. Elvis continued this game for a few minutes, clearly getting a kick out of making my niece smile. A warm feeling came over me as I watched this and imagined having a child with him, thinking how wonderful it would be.

Later, we went into Rosemary’s room, where we sat with Rosemary on her bed and talked about numerology and life. Elvis was so busy thinking and talking that he quickly asked Rosemary for a pen and paper.

She handed him a couple of sheets of yellow stationery from a pad nearby. Elvis wrote some numbers and letters down on them, trying to explain things to us as he went along.

As always, Elvis was enjoying the process of looking for words inside words, and finding a special significance in certain things. He shared some of his discoveries about numbers with us, and what he thought it meant if the numbers were in a certain order. For instance, using the mark of the beast, three sixes, Elvis added the numbers together, which totaled nine, and explained this number symbolized war and destruction. Meanwhile, the number seven was a “God-like” number, Elvis said, because within it was contained the word “Eve.”

Elvis entertained the idea that numbers influenced one’s life, and I was fascinated, as always, to hear what was going on inside his head.

Later, I brought in a photo album that included some pageant pictures of me. As we were looking through the photographs, Elvis took one out, flipped it over, and wrote, “God gave me to you, God gave you to me,” on the back of the photograph. It would be one of the many special things forever dear in my heart.

As much as Elvis loved being at home, a few days later he announced, “I’ve been off too long.” I knew it was in his blood to perform and one of the things that made him the happiest.

His fans obviously wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see them. There were usually fans at the Graceland gates, and people tried to follow him anywhere he went if they happened to spot Elvis out and about. I never heard Elvis complain about this or turn down an autograph.

However, early one evening, the two of us went outside to sit on the front porch. The guards had left the front gates open, unaware that Elvis and I had come out, and a small crowd was gathered at the foot of the driveway.

Suddenly, a few fans began inching their way closer up the driveway toward us. I glanced over at Elvis, who was dressed in his robe and pajamas. He looked at the advancing fans without a word, then stood up and moved his chair behind one of the columns. A few minutes later, he took his jug of water and cigar and abruptly stood up.

“Let’s go back inside,” he said.

Elvis had been caught in an internal tug-of-war between his instinct to embrace his fans and his own need for privacy. Had the gates been closed, I’m sure Elvis would have stayed out longer on that warm summer evening but he accepted this as part of his life and I accepted this as part of my life with him.

Another evening, Elvis said he wanted to take Lisa and me to Libertyland. I was thrilled, especially because Amber was also at Graceland that night and I knew how much the two girls loved the amusement park. They grew quite excited when I told them our plan.

An hour went by, then another. It was getting late. I took the girls into my bathroom to help them get ready, where I styled Lisa’s hair in a bun and the three of us got dressed. We were all anxious to leave and have fun.

When I walked out of the bathroom to look for Elvis, however, I found him still in his pajamas and in bed. “I’ve decided not to go,” he said.

I felt really frustrated. Elvis had canceled our plans to go out at the last minute many times, simply because he had just changed his mind. I had been disappointed by this unpredictable behavior before, but this time I was more upset. Going to the amusement park would be a good thing for him to do, and I knew how much the girls were looking forward to it.

Remembering something Elvis had once said to me, I decided to challenge him. “Elvis, I thought you once told me that you could do anything,” I said, then silently waited for his reaction.

“Get George Klein on the phone,” he said.

Victory! We contacted George. My spirits quickly sank, though, as I heard Elvis’s end of the conversation and realized George was telling him the workers at Libertyland had either gone home or were preparing to close up the park.

They talked for a few more minutes, then Elvis hung up. George called back a little later, however, to say the employees would stay late and keep the park open. Victory again!

Suddenly, Elvis was in an upbeat mood. He asked me to invite my sisters and made a few calls to ask other friends and family to join us. Elvis even told me Rosemary could bring her date for the evening and Terry could include our friend Cindy.

When my sisters and their friends arrived at Graceland, Elvis got dressed in his loose blue jumpsuit and black stage belt. We went downstairs, joined some of the guys, and decided we needed more cars. A small group of us cut across the backyard to Vernon’s house so we could use some of the cars parked there.

At Libertyland, Elvis and I spent well over an hour on the Zippin Pippin roller coaster. We sat in the front car, which was scary but I loved it. Elvis rode with his hands raised high in the air. A few times he even pretended he was going to stand up as the coaster sped around its loops and hills. Periodically, the ride stopped so anyone could get off or switch partners, but Elvis and I stayed on.

We later rode the dodgem cars and Elvis played a couple of arcade games, winning a few stuffed animals for Lisa as well as a stuffed pink panther and a big yellow bird for me.

Rosemary and her date unfortunately had to leave early. She thanked Elvis and gave him a hug. Dawn was breaking by the time the rest of us decided to head back. Elvis remained in great spirits, along with everyone else, as we returned to Graceland. The two of us said good night to everyone and Elvis and I retired upstairs. It had been a wonderful night.

Terry and Cindy remained at the house, visiting with some of the guys, and the two of them eventually fell asleep downstairs in the TV room. Having been on tour with us before, Cindy had gotten friendly with David, and he invited her to join us on the next tour. I was pleased to hear this. My two worlds were finally beginning to merge as one.

•   •   •

A couple of days later, my mother was shocked to receive word that she was behind on her July and August house note payments. She called Beecher Smith, Elvis’s attorney, for assistance, because she had given him all of the paperwork dealing with her home as Elvis had requested.

Beecher apologized and said he’d been so busy, he had forgotten to take care of everything. Right after that, he sent a letter to my mother’s mortgage company, stating that it was an oversight and asking for the full payment amount owed on the home, and whether there would be a prepayment penalty for paying off the mortgage entirely in one lump sum. My mother was relieved to have Beecher sort things out for her so quickly.

On August 12, Elvis decided he wanted to see a movie and rented the United Artists Southbrook 4 theater. He took me, Lisa, and a small group of friends to see the latest James Bond flick,
The Spy Who Loved Me
.

A few days later, I noticed more activity around Graceland as members of Elvis’s entourage began preparing for his next tour, which would take us to Portland, Maine. Elvis really wanted Rosemary and my brother to come along, so I asked them and was thrilled when my brother said he could take some vacation time and both of them agreed to join us.

•   •   •

Elvis had mentioned needing to lose some weight before this tour, and I was pleased to see that, for the first time, he was showing more awareness of his diet. On August 15, he began having only small amounts of yogurt and drinking a lot of water.

Lisa was still with us, but she would be leaving the next day to return to Los Angeles and get ready for the new school year, so Elvis wanted to spend time with her. It was a cloudy day. Between periods of drizzle, the three of us, along with my niece Amber, took a short ride around on her golf cart in the afternoon.

That evening, Elvis and I watched television. My stomach began to cramp and I realized my time of the month was starting. My periods were often bad, especially during the first few days. Hoping Elvis would understand, I ventured, “Could I join your tour in a day or two?” Embarrassed, I went on to explain why, even though I knew Elvis would want me with him.

He gave me a displeased look. “I’d like you to go,” Elvis said, then waited a beat. “See how you feel.”

Later Elvis made some calls, trying to arrange for a private screening of the new movie
MacArthur
at a local theater. At one point, Elvis told me he thought a piece of tooth had broken off. He wanted to have it checked and filled. He showed me a small glass box with some temporary crowns in it that he carried on tour, in case he chipped a tooth while traveling.

Elvis set up an appointment with a dentist named Dr. Hoffman. He asked Billy Smith to come over and, along with Charlie, we left Graceland in the Stutz around 10:30
P.M.
We arrived at the dentist’s office, where Elvis gestured at me, saying, “Isn’t she ugly?”

Smiling, Dr. Hoffman replied, “Yes.”

Elvis later reappeared from the dentist’s room, the problem fixed. Dr. Hoffman then took some X-rays of my teeth. Meanwhile, Charlie said he’d made a phone call to Graceland to find out if anyone had managed to set up a screening of
MacArthur
, but discovered the projectionist wouldn’t be around that late.

We returned to Graceland around 12:30
A.M.
, and I followed Elvis upstairs to his bedroom. Elvis mentioned that he needed to speak with a couple of the guys for a few minutes, so I went into Lisa’s room. I wanted to see if Lisa and Amber had gone to bed. They were nowhere in sight. Even the kids operated on “Elvis time,” so I figured they were downstairs playing.

A short time later, Elvis asked me to come back to the room. He was now alone. We watched a little television, then Elvis called downstairs to have the bed made.

Mary, one of the maids, came upstairs to do the bed, so Elvis and I moved into Lisa’s room. I lay on the couch while he turned on the television and sat down in the chair across from it, where he lit up a cigar. When he mentioned wanting to play racquetball later, I got excited. This would be my first time seeing him play, and I thought it might help relax him before his tour.

We’d been watching TV for a little bit when, without any warning, Elvis suddenly turned it off. His eyes quickly cut away from the television screen to my face.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about getting married lately,” he said, fiddling with the cigar in his mouth and studying me, waiting to see my reaction.

“Really?” I was caught completely off guard.

“Really,” Elvis said, smiling.

Again, he talked about having our wedding ceremony take place in a nondenominational church, like the pyramid-shaped church Charlie had told him about. “I would like certain people there,” he said, “public officials and friends. And there should be so many police officers to guard the church, so no news media can get to us. I don’t want this to be a three-ring circus,” he declared.

Elvis paused for a minute. Then, using his hands to show me a measure of length, he said, “The limousines should be so many inches longer than a normal-length limo and in blue.”

As I nodded, my excitement mounting, he continued, meticulously going over every detail. “I’ve thought about your gown. The dress should have a high collar and I would like it to have small rosebuds with gold threads through it. I’m gonna have someone work on it in Los Angeles.”

“You don’t have my measurements,” I said, thinking practically for a moment.

Elvis gave me a look, as if to say he knew exactly what those measurements would be. Once again I was swept along by his ability to make anything happen. The vision of what the dress would look like and the reality of the wedding drew more sharply into focus. I couldn’t believe Elvis had already given this much thought to everything! On the other hand, wasn’t this the way Elvis had done everything with me from the start?

“You should wear clear, glass-looking slippers and a tiara in your hair,” he said. I loved these ideas. Then he brought up bridesmaid dresses. “I think pink would be good. What color would you like?”

“Lavender would be pretty,” I said.

Elvis smiled and shook his head. “This has got to be the wedding of the century.” He sat quietly for a moment, then added, “We should pick a date. I’ve been thinking about my birthday, your birthday, or Christmas. What do you think?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Christmas would be nice,” I said.

He nodded, giving me another soft smile. “That will be our gift to God.”

I felt as Elvis did, that God wanted us to be together and would be pleased to see us married on such a special day. I was so happy, I stood up, walked over to Elvis, and kissed him full on the lips.

He returned my kiss, then said, “I’d like to announce our engagement to the audience at the end of the tour in Memphis. We’ll put it in the local paper too, under the regular engagement section, nothin’ fancy.”

I smiled. Here was Elvis, going with his own version of the wow factor once more. He turned the television back on and we settled down again to watch it.

A little while later, Elvis left the room, saying he had to talk business with some of the guys. I figured this must have something to do with his upcoming tour.

After he’d finished his meetings, I asked Elvis if he still wanted to play racquetball, knowing some exercise would be good for him. He told me he did.

It was after 4
A.M.
Elvis called downstairs and asked Billy and Jo Smith to meet us. I hated the idea of waking them. By now, however, I’d learned that, when Elvis called, most people jumped.

Elvis changed into a warm-up suit and loaned me one to wear that wasn’t overly large. I was still on a high from our conversation about the wedding, and eager to be going outside to move around. We met up with Billy and Jo and the four of us walked down to the racquetball court.

Other than peeking inside the racquetball court once with my mother, this was my first time seeing it. Elvis wanted to show me around before we played. The court was as lavish as most of Graceland, with a custom bath and spa, dressing room, bar, pinball machine, jukebox, and workout area with weight equipment. There was even a piano.

Elvis quickly took me up to the roof, too, and showed me an outdoor jogging track. It was still dark out. There was precipitation in the air, but that didn’t seem to disturb him. His gaze swept over the property, then Elvis pointed to a nearby area and said if I wanted to paint again, he’d build an art studio for me there.