first place. When she went to hold back a crowd of probably 50 screaming girls, I took off again.
“Suddenly, I felt claws digging into my arm. I swung around trying to get away from those claws, but it turned out to be that woman cop! She got mad and decided to show who was boss, and was going to take me to jail for hitting an officer. But she ended up charging me with disorderly conduct and unnecessary noise in a public place. Can you believe that? Unnecessary noise --- at an Elvis concert! Who could tell? Oh, she made me mad.
“She took me backstage and made me wait there throughout most of the show. I was hoping it would be for the whole show. I was just a few feet from where Elvis would leave the stage.
“I told her a MAN wouldn’t have scratched me and she showed her nails and said, ‘Aren’t they pretty?’ She left me to go tell her sergeant on me (Big girl!) and left me with some policeMEN and they just talked about how stupid it was. One said he’d take me around front and let me get lost in the crowd, but it was too late, the sergeant had already put out the orders to take me in. Can you imagine?
“What’s so funny, the officer who took me in started talking to me and found out I was president of the fan club and wanted to know how to get in touch with me for information on when Elvis would be coming to Houston again.
“Elvis stayed on stage for an hour and a half, but, Betty, I’m sorry to say, he should have never gone on. The show had its highlights, like my kiss, but the rest of it --- I can’t believe that was Elvis. He was in misery. Some of the people may not have noticed. But we did. One of the girls talked to Linda Thompson and she said he went on against doctor’s orders. He was bloated again --- not fat --- bloated. He could hardly move. But he put on a show for his fans.
“I noticed when I was at the stage how bad he seemed to feel, but he kept on. I think the reason he took time to kiss me was just to kill some time. He dragged out everything. The introductions; everything. But he refused to stop, to let down his fans.
“When you see him as much as I do, and some of those that go with me, you are let down. Let down to know he pushes himself so hard for us. He was just --- he’s going to kill himself --- on stage if he doesn’t do like he’s told. He has got to stop such a rigorous schedule. All year it’s been two weeks on, two weeks off, two weeks on. I don’t see how he does it. This one was a letdown after that great Memphis show in July.
“I wish he’d cancel a show if he feels bad. You know, like he did last year in Vegas. I guess August is just a bad month for Elvis. It was in August he cancelled Vegas.
“I love seeing Elvis, but I hate anybody else to see him when he’s sick. I’m an Elvis fan. I can tell when he’s sick, but I bet the papers will never let him get away with being sick. They’ll say he’s old and fat and can’t sing --- Ha! A lot they know. His voice was still fine and strong. They put him down without seeing the man behind the star.
“They overlook the fact that he tried to please his fans even when he didn’t feel good. They don’t see the fact that so many other stars are so temperamental, they walk off the stage if they don’t like something. But Elvis --- his main goal is to be there for us. I appreciate that, but I’m not so selfish I’m not willing to give him a rest.
“There’s a difference between a performer who just decides to walk off because he’s too stuck up and a performer not going on because he’s sick.
“Well, Betty, I’m sorry I had to have bad news with my good news, but I wanted to tell you before the Jackson concert so you might not be too disappointed. No matter what the rest of that show was like, it’ll probably always be one of my favorites because of my kiss.
“Let me hear from you as soon as the show’s over. I hope he’ll be feeling better.
TCE,
Brenda”
Oh, no! I was really worried. I had counted so much on this concert. Now I was almost afraid to go. But at least I would be prepared if Elvis is still sick.
Sunday I was as anxious as ever to head out. There’s something about getting ready to finally leave for a concert that just fills you both with excitement and anxiety. I could hardly wait.
By 9:00 a.m. Sunday we were up, dressed, loaded and on our way to Jackson. Linda drove her car and Pat, Rusty, James and I kept her company snacking on chips, candy, and talking the whole trip.
For some reason, all we could ever talk about was Elvis: how great he looks, wondering what he’s going to wear, and counting the minutes until show-time. We reached Jackson about 2:00 p.m. and quickly checked into our room. We had a nice room with a large plate glass window overlooking the swimming pool. James stood by the window awhile looking out then said he thought he’d just wait here and rest and let us chase after Elvis. I knew James didn’t act tired and I knew he liked chasing Elvis as much as I did so when I saw that hidden grin of his, I went to investigate. Sure enough, there were three young, good-looking girls in some of the scantiest bikinis I’ve ever seen! I cut my eyes at James and stared at him with mean squinting eyes. James just grinned and held his hands palm up as he shrugged his shoulders.
I grabbed hold of one of James’ ears and lead him away from the window and out the door. We were here to look for Elvis, not girls!
We had heard Elvis would stay in this same hotel we were at so we began checking all the entrances to see which one he would most likely use. We walked around the outside of the hotel until we came to an inclined loading ramp at the back. There were several other fans already here, waiting. This had to be the place. We decided this is where we would wait, too.
We waited and waited, but still no Elvis. Either he wasn’t coming to this hotel or he had found another entrance. It would be show-time soon and we were nowhere near ready so we decided to give up for now and go back to our room. There were still several people waiting.
There were five of us trying to get ready for the concert in one room with only one bath. It was hectic. Running here and there. Tripping over each other. Out of this; we forgot that. And the concert started in an hour! And I didn’t even have any movie film yet!
I don’t know why we felt so rushed and panicky; Elvis wouldn’t go on for two hours yet and the coliseum was just down the street. Somehow you just start getting nervous the closer the time gets.
There’s the anticipation, that tingling all over that’s hard to explain. I was about to see Elvis!
We were finally ready and drove toward the coliseum stopping at the corner drug store for film. But it was closed! The next one was open but already out of film. Oh, I was starting to get nervous again. Time’s awastin’ and I can’t find any film. Everything goes wrong when you’re in a hurry. Why didn’t I buy film before I left Memphis? Then we found a store that had film left. I could see it behind the counter. But there were four people in front of me. I think everyone of them had everything gift-wrapped; they took so long.
I tried to stand still at the end of the line, but I couldn’t. I had to twist and turn. I strummed my fingers on the counter, looked at my watch and gave a few whines. All this waiting and the guy in front of me will buy all the film. I just knew it. Then I got that old feeling. It was time to go to the bathroom. I’d gotten too excited. I can’t wait much more. Damn! These people sure take their time. Finally, it was my turn. I forgot the type of film I needed. I was so nervous I couldn’t think.
I finally got the film and we were back in the car. In a few minutes we were at the far end of the parking area. It was about thirty minutes to show-time so the parking lot was already filled to the brim. We had to park a long way out. We walked briskly to the coliseum trying to get in ahead of some of the other people walking through the lot. It didn’t make any difference. We already had our seats. There’s just something about going to a concert that makes you hurry up the closer you get.
We found our seats fairly easily with plenty of time to spare. The arena was almost full. The lights were still up. Fans talked and giggled back and forth about other concerts they had seen. Some passed photos around. The souvenir salesmen walked up and down the aisles yelling, “Get Your