The Day Elvis Helped Me

One day I was asked to go to the hospital to sit with parents whom I had never met - who had just witnessed their daughter's terrible accident - and were now waiting while surgery was being performed that, as it turned out, would not save her life.

Here's what happened: The young adult daughter was driving alone in her car. The parents were following in theirs. They were headed from South Florida to Memphis when the accident happened before their eyes. They knew nobody in my city.

Am I an expert in this sort of thing? Absolutely not. But there I was. We ended up spending six hours together.

Whenever the conversation died down the dad would say, "please, let's talk about something. I can't stand the silence." The last time he said it, I looked up, saw his belt buckle and knew immediately why they were going to Memphis. I said, "Were you folks headed for Graceland?"

Elvis people have always interested me. Many years ago the great Florida writer and band member, Dave Barry, went to Memphis to make fun of the Dead Elvis Followers but ended up writing a powerful and poignant story of how sincere they were.

We ended up in that hospital waiting room talking about every bit of Elvis trivia imaginable. I learned a lot.

When the doctors finally came in, it was bad. Really bad. But for the hours prior to that Elvis helped us out.