Part Two
We excitedly traveled up the interstate from Jackson toward Oxford. A quick turn down a quiet highway and we were on our way to Tupelo. We enjoyed our quick visit to the “shotgun shack” where Elvis entered the world and discussed our next stop—the famed Graceland Too. We figured as the good fans we are, we should see all the Elvis sites. So, down the highway we went. We found our way to the quiet town of Holly Springs, Mississippi. We stopped at the town square, took a few photos, and even popped into a tiny diner. The sweet elderly waitress was the epitome of the Southern small town stereotype. We asked her if the house in question was still open to the public and she said, “Why, yes, honey! He’s always there. Sugar, if you just go knock on the door he’ll let you right in.” And that’s when the real adventure started.
We drove to his home, parked our car, and began the short walk to his front door. As we’re walking down the sidewalk toward his home, we saw a man carrying trash to the curb. We thought that must be him! The hubs asked him if he was the homeowner and if he still gave tours. After what seemed like the longest time, he began to look us over—up one side, down the other. He then said, “Yeah. Go on around front. It’ll take me a couple of minutes to get cleaned up, but I’ll be right there. It’ll be something you’ll never forget.” You know, in hindsight, that should have been our cue to march right back to that little rental car of ours and head back toward Oxford, but no…we hadn’t come this far to turn back now! Around to the front of the house we went quietly discussing why he’d still have those Christmas decorations out—it was June. Then we questioned all the razor wire around the top of his 6 foot high chain link fencing…and why on earth his cement lions on the front porch were being held down with chains and padlocks. It was odd yet intriguing. Patiently we waited. Suddenly the sound of Elvis hits began to loudly pour from within the house. The sound of multiple locks being opened turned our attention to the front door. The front door opened and there he stood—dripping with sweat wearing a black silk shirt unbuttoned far too low. We gave each other a “are you sure about this?” glance and headed in the door. We could never have prepared ourselves for what we saw and were about to experience…
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