Memphis The Mansion Music Made

There's still good rockin' at Elvis Presley's Graceland

  • Share
  • Read Later

(2 of 3)

At first glance, the 23-room neoclassical house seems a picture-book fantasy of wealth -- staid sweeps of off-white and gilt reflected in blue mirrors. But a closer look reveals some worn furniture that speaks of layaway plans and discount shops, pieces hauled over from the Presleys' prestardom house.

The decor provokes differing views. For Louisiana State University medical student Chris Gegg, 23, who drove all night from New Orleans with two friends, Graceland is "incredible." But like many visitors, Russell and Betty Hines, a retired farm couple from Atlantic, Iowa, are a little disappointed. Says Russell: "I thought it would be, you know, a little more grand."

Graceland never quite makes it that far, but in places it sure twists and shouts. Elvis picked all the furnishings for his den, called the Jungle Room, during a 30-minute shopping trip to Donald's, a Memphis furniture store. The huge chairs and sofas are upholstered in what resembles fake monkey fur, and the grass-green shag carpeting that covers both floor and ceiling makes such an acoustically perfect room that Elvis recorded eight hits here for his last album, Moody Blue. The yellow-and-blue TV room sports three built-in sets mounted side by side. Elvis was aping the three sets in the Oval Office. The excess prompted one Reeboked grandmother to pronounce, "It's a killer."

Visitors almost did not get to see Graceland at all. By 1981, four years after Elvis died, taxes, security and upkeep cost some $400,000 a year. But, says Soden, "you couldn't just plunk down a FOR SALE sign out front. There are people buried up there." Also, Priscilla Presley, Elvis' ex-wife, did not want to part with the home. Although she divorced Elvis in 1973, Priscilla is the mother of his only child and heir, Lisa Marie, 20, and remains an executor of his estate. She gave the go-ahead to turn Graceland into an Elvis museum in 1982. Soden, a former banker, picked up ideas from Monticello and San Simeon, the California mansion of William Randolph Hearst. Smithsonian Institution curators helped Soden and his staff plan the displays.

In the trophy room, a low building beside the house, where Elvis used to keep his slot-car racetracks, visitors are reminded of what all the shoutin' is about. Some 150 of Elvis' gold and platinum records, including Hound Dog and Heartbreak Hotel, range down a long corridor. His film and stage costumes, from tailored black leather to elaborate Las Vegas numbers, adorn faceless mannequins. Some women with an eye for fashion think the white jumpsuits have been taken in beyond the dimensions necessary to fit the porky Elvis in his final years. Guides stoutly deny it.

Graceland's most intense experience comes in a small plot of shrubs and religious statuary near the pool. Here the graves of Elvis, his parents and his maternal grandmother are marked by large bronze slabs. Fans pluck blades of grass from the plot and leave a variety of mementos, including red roses, teddy bears, hound-dog dolls and religious medallions. Even casual visitors are affected. "The resting place is very impressive," says interior decorator Agustin deRojas, 60, a Cuban refugee who lives in Houston. "I admire Mr. Presley -- how he served in the Army when he really didn't have to."

  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3