I come full circle today – in reverse. I had started at the middle and end of Elvis’ life in Memphis, Tennessee and visiting his home, museums, and participating in all things Elvis at the Guest House at Graceland has been very enjoyable. But just across the border, under two hours’ drive from Memphis, is the small town of Tupelo, Mississippi, where Elvis’ life started. Although I have taken a long, circuitous route and have seen many unrelated-to-Elvis things along the way, I finish this part of the deep south road trip here in Tupelo where I visit the Elvis Presley Birthplace Park.
I am surprised to find that this is the actual location of where the house was built by Elvis’ grandfather, father, and uncle using funds that Elvis’ father Vernon had borrowed from his employer in 1934. The City of Tupelo purchased the house and the surrounding land in 1957, and in the same year, Elvis donated the proceeds of a concert held in Tupelo to add further funds to establish the park.
I had first visited the park in nine years ago in October 2015, and probably due to time constraints, had just wandered around to see the house enjoy the pretty park and the outdoor exhibits without any cost. Today, however, despite being short of time - again, I do purchase a ticket that allows me to enter the house, the museum, and to do a tour of the park, which ends at the Elvis’ childhood church. The early summer day is warm, and the canopy of the trees is cooling and very green. This shady park is like a small haven that I do not think that even Graceland in Memphis has achieved. Having been given a time for the next tour, I fill in my ‘waiting’ time with a visit to the museum, which holds memorabilia of Elvis’ early days, and which includes a story of poverty, of faith, family, and community, and one talented small child with a guitar bought from a catalogue.
The shotgun house, built by Elvis’ male family members had been built quickly to cater for the impending birth of twins. Born on 8 January 1935 inside the house, Elvis’ spent the first three years of his life here before they were forced to move when his father, Vernon, was jailed for fraud. In November 1948, Elvis and his family relocated to Memphis, and the rest is history. The tiny two-room cottage is filled with not only relics from Elvis’ past, but those unrelated to the Presley family, but of the same era.
The tour is excellent, and the guide draws on the history of Tupelo during the 1930s, years of the depression and the hardships of the Presley family. The humble Assembly of God church had been moved to this site because of its significance in Elvis’ life. It had been inside this church that Elvis was first exposed to Gospel music and the preacher was instrumental in teaching him some basic guitar chords that only encouraged Elvis to follow his dream of performing. Elvis sang and recorded his beloved Gospel songs, which were the basis of his deep faith.
As I finish the tour and return to the car for the forward journey towards Franklin Tennessee, I cannot shake the idea that music is responsible for crossing the colour boundaries. These days, with the global focus on the colour of one’s skin, music, whether it be folk, country, rock ‘n roll, Gospel, blues, or jazz, speaks to us no matter where our ethnic roots lie.
As I leave Tupelo, I can reflect on the complexity of the southern history particularly around slavery, the Civil War and abolition of slavery, to the 20th century fight for civil rights by descendants of slaves. During this journey from New Orleans to where I am standing in Tupelo, I have experienced the rich musical history that is interwoven with the struggles of the black people of the region.
And then, there is the mighty Mississippi River, which I have sadly neglected during this visit. Perhaps I need to return, or better still, organise a road trip that will follow the Mississippi from its source way up north in Minnesota to New Orleans, But that’s for another day.
Title Quote: Willie Nelson
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