A Tribute to Elvis

As the snow flies . . .
On a cold and gray Chicagi morn
Apoor little baby child was born
In the ghetto,
And his mama cried . . .
In The Ghetto, 1969

Indeed, on a cold and frosty morn in Dixie Land -- January 8, 1935 -- the snow was at least spitting if not flying when a poor little baby child was born in a ghetto. And his mama cried. The ghetto was located in East Tupelo. Mississippi, where in a crude tqo-room shack twin baby boys were born that morning. The first one died and later that day was laid out in a cardboard box and buried in an unmarked pauper's grave. The second lived, after a difficult struggle, to become a legend in his own time. A legend impossible for any human being to live up to.

Approximately five years after his death, on May 4, 1982, his ex-wife Priscilla opened Graceland to the public as a memorial to Elvis. She said: "When we went to the Smithsonian to discuss the opening of Graceland, they felt that the appearance of Elvis Presley on the American music scene was possibly the most significant single influence in the entire two-hundred-year history of American music, and it was only fitting he should have a memorial."

I was one of the millions who grew up with Elvis' unforgettable music. And for me none of the other musical performers of his time possessed the magicaor the mystery of Elvis. He owned every stage he ever sang on, although it took his quite a while to realize that. His low self-esteem, based on the way he had been treated all his life by people outside his immediate family, due to the circumstances of his birth, made him naive, innocent, and un believing of his own power. A sensitive child knows when outsiders consider his family to be the lowest level of white trash, and that knowledge puts a scar on the child's soul which may never be erased no matter what he accomplishes.

Miss Scrivener, Elvis' history and home room teacher at Humes High School in Memphis, recalled the big theatrical event of the 1953 school year. She was the producer. Elvis was a senior who wasn't liked by most of his classmates. They thought he was an insignificant oddball who didn't fit it . . . and didn't want to. He was deliberately different in the way he wore his hair and how he dressed. They were very wrong. Elvis desperately wanted to fit in, but intuitively he knew he wasn't going to, no matter what he did, so he might as well suit himself.

Sixteen hundred students and teaching staff jammed themselves into the auditorium that day when and "insignificant oddball" made history. The special combination of defiance and humility which would everafter be his trademarkwas evident as Elvis slouched out on the stage, his carefully combed hair gleaming, and his borrowed bright red shirt vibrating off the stage lights. He propped a foot on a chair and gazed directly at the audience before sliding his guitar around to his front and proceeding to raise the roof with a medley of ballads. That was the first, but certainly not the last, time he exhibited his natural flair for the dramatic. He was called back for an encore which was received with even more tumultuous applause. Finally Elvis bowed deeply and returned to the wings where Miss Scrivener was standing.

She was later quoted: "I'll never forget the look on his face as he came off that stage." His eyes shining, wearing the lopsided grin which later captivated millions, he exclaimed in wonder, "They really liked me, Miss Scrivener. They really liked me!

People from all over the world were drawn to him like metal filings to a magnet.
And no wonder. The whole story is in his natal chart. For an explanation check my Astrology and Healing blog.