The death of Elvis was a worldwide, yet very personal, event.
Here we are 36 years from his death (sadly) and those of us who mourned those heated August days in 1977 will never forget them and we questioned “how could this be”?
Even though he was over 40, and in declining health, there were times during 75, 76 and even 77 when he was not over bloated and still had that…magic. His incredible voice caused you to look past the weight, the paleness, the tiresome burdens he was carrying and as we hung on his voice we were transported back to a better time – when lasting memories were formed – and we embraced his live performances never thinking that 1977 would be his last.
My heart goes out to Elvis family members, the Memphis Mafia (i.e. Marty Lacker, Billy Smith, Red West, Sonny West, Jerry Schilling, Joe Esposito) and their family members, Kathy Westmoreland, Sandi Pichon, Sandie Stevens, and others as this day (not to minimize others) truly must be…hard.
When you peel back the sideburns, the hair, the elaborate suits, the screaming fans, the worldwide fame, you are left with an exceptional man (though imperfect in many ways) who made mistakes – had a temper – and yet was the American Dream personified. However, he failed at what meant the most to him and that was being a husband, raising his daughter together as man and wife, and to grow old with his mother. He failed because he was human and as humans events are “out of our hands”. He carried on, after these life changing events, and held his head high – put on a brave face – and sang to the world. I applaud him for doing so.
August 16th is just a day.
August 16th, 1977 was the final day in a life of a man who is deserving of our remembrance and respect.
Hence, the reason for this article.
Take care and may God bless you all.