You were human, of course. Perhaps in the end you simply couldn't take any more...

October 29, 2006



Dear Elvis,

This is a letter that I hope you can read. We all know you are supposed to be “dead”. But, of course, you know you aren’t dead as well as many others. I’m watching you on DVD this very moment. You are very much alive, much like Someone else we all know whom some refer to as dead and others as alive. For me, you aren’t dead and never will be (while I’m here, obviously). However, I’m not saying that you were a god. You weren’t and wouldn’t like anyone to think that anyway. A king either. Remember when you told that group who called you the king that you weren’t, that only “Jesus Christ” was king? Of course you were right. But those people in the group who’d come to see and hear you, well, I can’t help thinking “poor people”. I’m sure they meant no harm. But perhaps they needed to think about what you told them. About your reaction. Anyway, He knows.
I’m writing this letter for several reasons. One is because I want to. So, why can’t I? (Since we've had many journalists killed where I live, many people are paranoid as regards freedom of expression.) Another reason is that I never wrote you a letter while you were here with us on “earth”. I didn’t need to, did I? You were here and singing and traveling and we had the assurance that you were just a great part of our culture. Nothing less. The lucky ones went to your concerts. But it hadn’t always been that way. I know because I remember.

I remember a lot of people had been against you when you were making a name for yourself. Those kinds of people who are so quick to frown on or protest anything or anybody new on the scene. And there are so many of them in this world. Many of them were sheer hypocrites—people who lied, cheated, stole and committed other sins Monday to Friday then prayed and sang hymns tearfully in churches on Sunday. But maybe that’s another story. Anyway, you knew yourself how the world was and not only tolerated it, but did countless good deeds for the needy people who came into contact with you. A bit like the One born in the manger, you also tried to live a life of service and help to others. That’s only admirable.

I’m sure you forgave all those people who were against you. You were so superior to many of them that forgiving would have been your style. Your heart was like that. We know today that because of the legacy of song, both gospel and rock, that you left behind, that millions of people’s lives have been touched and/or brightened by it. And I’m one of them. I say thank you. For your persistence in recording gospel songs when others (some of them “advisers”) opposed it. For forgiving those who opposed you so vehemently even though, in many cases, your heart was “whiter” than theirs. For helping so many of the ones around you which, in so many instances, involved considerable material help.

You were human, of course. Perhaps in the end you simply couldn’t take any more. Your life was just too hectic or out of control to deal with successfully. All those prescriptions to fill for pills. What did you do? You filled them. But lack of control, however unfortunate, isn’t really a crime, is it? And none of us is perfect. None of us is in control ALL the time, pretend as we may(and do so, pitifully). Anyway, you had something to go out for, did you not Elvis? That beloved mother of yours who had gone ahead. Again, thanks Elvis. I’ll say it for a lot of people. Thanks because “You Touched Me”. And millions more.