Down at the end of lonely street, rush hour begins early and preparations are under way to handle the traffic. Gardeners spruce up the lavish Christmas decorations, guards sip coffee, and guides tug at their jackets as the first visitors ascend the curving drive. Ready, Teddy -- it's show time at Graceland, and Elvis Presley, who knew how to stage a stunner, would have loved every lucrative, down-home, star-spangled minute of it.
A decade ago, it was easy to name America's best-known historic homes. They were Monticello and Mount Vernon. But since it opened to the public in 1982, Elvis' place in suburban Whitehaven, a 30-minute drive from downtown Memphis, has attracted more than 3 million visitors. That figure makes it one of the top house attractions in the U.S. This year alone, some 640,000 people will visit Graceland, and in the process they will spend more than $10 million on tickets, food and souvenirs.
The crowds should come as no surprise. After all, with a shake of the hips and a curl of the lip, Elvis declared a generation's independence. He became history's most recognized entertainer, selling more than 1 billion recordings. Says Karen Pritchett, 26, a cousin of Elvis' who grew up on the estate and is one of some 40 Graceland guides: "These are the roots of rock 'n' roll, right here."
Elvis had a sweet tooth for the mainstream, and the tour of his home appropriately departs from Elvis Presley Boulevard, a four-lane highway lined with Golden Arches and auto dealerships. Across the street from Graceland, a visitor can buy a $12.95 ticket to see Elvis' home, racquetball court, airplanes, horses, cats, cars and, of course, his grave.
Most Graceland visitors are not crackpots who claim that Elvis is really alive and hiding out in Grand Rapids, Mich. They are simply vacationers, many of them on their way to Florida, whom Graceland communications manager Todd Morgan characterizes as "Mom and Dad and the kids stopping off in their RVs."
Aside from Mickey Mouse, Elvis may be the most mementoed American in history. His likeness pouts from place mats, clocks and refrigerator magnets in souvenir shops near the ticket booths. Near by, folks can make a videotape of themselves singing along to one of 35 Elvis tunes or enjoy biscuits and gravy, one of his favorite dishes, at the Heartbreak Hotel restaurant. The commercialism is confined to one side of the street, says Jack Soden, executive director of Graceland, a business run by the singer's estate, because "we want you to see Graceland as if Elvis himself had invited you over."
Although Elvis died eleven years ago, Graceland remains an active family affair. The 22-year-old singer bought the 13.8-acre estate from a Memphis physician for about $100,000 in 1957. From the first, it was a lively home base for the Presley clan. Elvis rode his horse down to the gates to chat with fans and had fireworks fights with his buddies and relatives on the lawn. Today, whether they knew him or not, everyone on Graceland's staff, which grows to 450 during the summer season, refers to the singer by his first name. Elvis' septuagenarian uncle, Vester Presley, who once manned the gates, promotes his Southern cookbook in the record store called EP's LPs, and the aroma of down-home dinners still drifts through the house. The King's aunt Delta Biggs, 68, inhabits a downstairs suite and cooks for the night cleaning crew.