Me and a Guy Named Elvis

by Jerry Schilling

  I’ve also had the pleasure of working directly with another Sun Records legend, Jerry Lee Lewis. I became his manager in 1987, and one of the first challenges was to take care of some terrible troubles with the IRS and make it possible for Jerry Lee to become an active performer again. My first memory of being on the road with him is that we were sitting in the back of a Learjet, on the way to a show at Tipitina’s in New Orleans. Jerry Lee often speaks in great quotes, and this was the first time I got to hear one. He was in a three-piece suit, looking lost in deep thought as he scratched his chin and pulled on his pipe of tobacco, when he turned to me and said, “Jerry, if God created anything more lovely than a woman, he kept it to himself.”

  I worked hard to get Jerry Lee the royalties and publishing rights that he deserved, and I got him actively involved in the soundtrack of the biopic based on his life, Great Balls of Fire. At the premiere for that film, he asked me to be the one to walk down the red carpet with him. He’s still a great talent, and a good friend.

  Through the nineties, my dream of a film career became a very busy reality. I worked as a producer on such projects as Elvis: The Great Performances, Elvis in Hollywood, and coproduced the ABC TV series Elvis: The Early Years with Priscilla and Rick Husky. In 1995, I was the executive in charge of talent for the ten-hour documentary The History of Rock ’n’ Roll, coproduced by Quincy Jones and my dear friend Andrew Solt. In that position I oversaw interviews with legends and superstars ranging from Sam Phillips to Sex Pistol Steve Jones, Little Richard to Robert Plant, B. B. King to Bono.

  As the new millennium began, I was back where I started, in Memphis, serving a term as the president and CEO of the Memphis and Shelby County Music Commission, during which my proudest achievement was starting a Memphis musicians’ health-care plan. During my time back in Memphis, I also received the amazing honor of becoming the first white member appointed to the board of the International Black Broadcasters Association, which I still serve on.

  I found my soul mate—a bright, beautiful, vivacious woman named Cindy Bennett, who I couldn’t help falling in love with. Through the years she has been an incredible source of strength, support, friendship, and love, and in 2000, after thirteen years together, I finally got smart enough to officially make her Cindy Schilling. For our wedding, we traveled to India, where we were the guests of Ambassador Richard Celeste and his wife, Jacqueline Lundquist. Cindy and I were married in a traditional Hindu ceremony that was wonderful in every way possible. I know that Elvis would have appreciated the ceremony’s beauty and spirituality. And, as Cindy was brought to the ceremony in a horse-drawn carriage, I made my groom’s approach on top of an elephant, which I know the Colonel would have approved of.

  In the years after Elvis’s death, Carl Wilson became my closest friend. Cindy and I spent a lot of time with Carl and his second wife, Gina Martin (Dean’s daughter). Carl’s calming presence and quiet wisdom were always an inspiration to me. Sadly, he was also taken away too soon. He and Gina spent their last holiday together up at my house, on New Year’s Eve 1997, along with Carl’s sons, Jonah and Justin, and their girlfriends, Rona and Britta. Carl was very ill at the time, but it was a beautiful evening of celebration and togetherness. Carl died just a few weeks later on February 6, my birthday.

  A few months after Elvis’s funeral, Priscilla and I got together in Los Angeles and went out to dinner. We decided we’d treat ourselves right, and went to one of the more upscale spots in town, Le Dome. Both of us had been under a good deal of stress figuring out what our personal lives would be like without Elvis, and Priscilla was under a particularly harsh media spotlight. It was great to be together because we each had a deep understanding of what the other was going through. But it was still a little hard to talk about everything.

  The talking got a little easier when a bottle of champagne was sent over by another patron (and part owner)—Elton John. We finished that bottle, then, uncharacteristically, ordered another. Suddenly, Priscilla and I were opening up to each other in ways we never had before—talking about Elvis, growing up at Graceland, and all our times together. We recounted a lot of very happy memories, and shared a lot of laughter. It was a wonderful healing night—the first night like that for either of us. We finally walked out to get our cars, and became aware that there was a large group of paparazzi waiting for some kind of Priscilla picture. “Prim and proper” Priscilla turned to me and said, “Let’s give them something to talk about.” We shared a good-night kiss, which we followed with an extra-long hug—cracking up as the cameras went into a frenzy of clicking and flashing. In the years since that night, Priscilla has become one of my dearest friends in the world, and someone I can always count on. She’s a strong woman, and an incredibly generous soul. She’s a sharp businesswoman, but she’s also got a great sense of humor. I’m honored to consider her my friend.

  It’s hard to come up with words for the relationship I have with Lisa (or, as I’ve nicknamed her, “Memphis”). We started early—I drove her parents to the hospital the day she was born. After she lost her dad, she was often with me on Christmas Eve—when in addition to celebrating the holiday, we’d spend a lot of time talking about her father. As a teenager, Lisa’s first job was working for me as my personal assistant in the office at Jerry Schilling Management, a job she took seriously and executed well. There, we learned that not only did we have a unique way of communicating with each other, but we could match each other temper for temper. In her early twenties, when Lisa began her career as an artist, I was her first manager, and even in that earliest phase of her career I recognized the beauty of her writing and depth of her talent. There’s no question that she’s her own person, but there are many times that I’m wonderfully aware that there’s a lot of her father’s spirit within her.

  In the fall of 2004, in New York City on a business trip, I was in the back of a cab when I noticed something terribly wrong—the emerald had fallen from the ring Elvis gave me. It wasn’t anywhere in the cab, and couldn’t be found in my hotel room. My token of good fortune was gone. I can only assume that some New York pedestrian got very lucky that week. I continued to wear the ring anyway, and at Priscilla’s birthday party the next spring, Lisa noticed the missing stone. She asked if she could have the ring, to try and have it reset. Months later, on Christmas Eve, thirty years to the day her father had first given me the extraordinary gift, Lisa, with the same casually overwhelming generosity of her father, gave me back the ring—now set with the most brilliant, exquisitely cut emerald I’d ever seen. Coming from Elvis, the ring had great personal meaning to me. Now, as a gift from father and daughter, it is a personal treasure.

  In January 2006, I traveled to Kyoto, Japan, on a trip that had some of the feel of a top secret mission: it was there that Lisa—in the presence of her children, Benjamin and Riley, her mother, and a tight-knit group of family and friends—married her fiancé, Michael Lockwood (a great guy). And I was very honored to be the one Lisa and Michael asked to conduct the marriage ceremony (I became a credentialed clergyman in the Church of Spiritual Humanism for the occasion). As that beautiful wedding day came to a close, it occurred to me that I was in my fifty-second year as a member of the extended Presley family. The fact that Elvis and his loved ones have welcomed me into their lives is the single greatest blessing of my life.

  Elvis was my friend, and I received more from him than from any other person I’ve known. I can only hope that I gave something of substance back to him. Losing him was the greatest loss I’ve ever suffered. But it also has occurred to me that those words I once heard Elvis sing in the Graceland music room have turned out to be absolutely true.

  With everything he gave me, and with all the love, friends, memories, and music in my life—I don’t ever walk alone.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A very special thanks to Peter Guralnick, for believing in me, and for guiding me through this process with insight, honesty, and friendship. I could not have done this without you.


  Special thanks to Chuck Crisafulli, who lived my story with me and captured my life and my voice in a way I could not have done on my own. You’re now an honorary member of the Memphis Mafia, and I consider myself lucky to have found not just a writer, but a friend. A heartfelt thank-you also to Kyra Thompson, for her generosity and unwavering support of this project.

  I’d like to offer my sincere gratitude to many other people who helped make this book a reality.

  At Gotham Books: Special thanks to Bill Shinker, who got what I wanted to do at our first meeting, and offered my story a classy home. Thanks to editor Brendan Cahill, who made the book more than the “10 percent better” he promised, and who always supported my decisions on how this story should be told. Thanks to Patrick Mulligan, who was always there to answer my questions, and whose attention to detail was greatly appreciated. Thanks also to Lisa Johnson, Melanie Koch, and Annsley Rosner.

  At Fish & Richardson: Thank you to John Taylor “Ike” Williams and Hope Denekamp, who provided encouragement and enthusiasm throughout the process.

  At Elvis Presley Enterprises: Thank you to Jack Soden for his gracious support of this endeavor. Special thanks to Todd Morgan, who knew I should write a book before I did, and who was extremely generous with his time and knowledge—You helped keep this book honest and true. Thank you to Scott Williams and Susan Sherwood for all their efforts on my behalf. Thanks also to the David Beckwith Company.

  Thank you to Andrew Solt, for generously providing a loving environment in which to write this book.

  Thank you to Ernst Jorgenson, who improved the accuracy of this work by sharing his vast historical knowledge of the subject with me.

  Thank you to Erin Hosier, an early believer in this book who gave me all the right information before I could comprehend it. Thanks most of all for finding Chuck for me.

  Some very personal thank-you’s go out to the following:

  To Mamaw and Papaw Gilkey—I would not have survived without you. To Bill Schilling, for being a loving father. To Billy Ray Schilling, for sticking up for me when I needed it. And to Aunt Jinky, who gave me so much new insight about my mother.

  To Myrna Smith, who shared so much of this story with me. To Sandy Kawelo, a truly pure and wonderful spirit.

  To George Klein, for being my lifelong North Memphis friend, and for sharing his great memory of our Memphis Mafia days. To Joe Esposito, for all his years of friendship. To Linda Thompson, for always being the caring, positive person that she is. To all my brothers in the Memphis Mafia.

  To Gary Hovey for his personal and professional insight, and to Michelle Hovey for her support and for sharing her family stories with me. To Col. and Anne Beaulieu, whose reminiscences helped me relive some of the great times we shared.

  For guidance, support, and friendship throughout the years, thanks to Emily Kuroda, Steve Einczig, Ross Schwartz, Dennis Arfa, Glen Brunman, and Tom Hulett. Thanks to Randy Poe for sharing his expertise and making me feel comfortable as an author. Thanks to Scotty Moore, a great musician and a great friend. Thanks to D. J. Fontana for steady beats and steady friendship. Thanks to George Brooks and Bud Tedesco for refreshing my memory of my film-editing days.

  I’d also like to take this opportunity to thank all the fans around the world who have always been so kind to me.

  Special thanks to the Sam Phillips family for their friendship.

  Special thanks to the Carl Wilson family for their love and support.

  Special thanks to my loving wife, Cindy Schilling, who was always there for me every step of the way through this process. Her contributions were invaluable. I wouldn’t have wanted to share my 3:00 A.M. notes with anyone else.

  Thank you to Priscilla, for growing up with me at Graceland, and for understanding and appreciating the love that went into this work.

  Thank you to Lisa, the reader I most wanted to share my story with.

  E—Thanks for everything.

  INDEX

  ABC

  Abel, Bob

  acting career of Elvis

  frustration with

  Hollywood social scene and

  karate film

  Memphis Mafia and

  Mr. Schaeffer (Mid-South Film Exchange)

  Star Is Born, A

  talent of Elvis

  See also California and Elvis; specific Elvis films

  acting careers of

  Jerry Schilling

  Memphis Mafia

  Adams, Nick

  Adidge, Pierre

  “All Shook Up” (Presley)

  Ann-Margret “Ammo” (Elvis’s girlfriend)

  arguments with Elvis

  Colonel Tom Parker

  Jerry Schilling

  Priscilla Presley

  Army and Elvis

  assaults on Elvis

  Autobiography of a Yogi (Yogananda)

  badges (police) collected by Elvis

  Baptist Memorial Hospital

  Beach Boys

  Beatles

  Beaulieu family

  Beaulieu, Priscilla. See Presley, Priscilla

  Becket (film)

  Benner, Joseph

  Bennett, Cindy (Schilling’s third wife)

  Berry, Chuck

  “Beyond the Reef” (Presley)

  Binder, Steve

  Binyon, Claude

  Black, Bill

  Blue Hawaii (Elvis film)

  “Blue Moon of Kentucky” (Presley)

  Brando, Marlon

  Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs (BNDD)

  “Burning Love” (Presley)

  Burton, James

  California and Elvis

  Beatles meeting

  Bel Air (Perugia Way)

  Bel Air (Rocca Place)

  Beverly Hills (Hillcrest Drive)

  bus driver, Elvis as

  cross-country travel approach

  Memphis schedule vs.

  Monovale Drive home

  motorcycle riding in

  Palm Springs weekends

  road time, importance

  video player used on road trips

  Caribou Management

  “Cat, The”

  See also Presley, Elvis

  CBS

  Chamberlain, Wilt

  Cheiro’s Book of Numbers

  Christmas (Presley album)

  Circle G Ranch

  Clambake (Elvis film)

  Clapton, Eric

  Cocke, Marian (Elvis’s personal nurse)

  Cole, Richard

  concert career of Elvis

  Aloha concert

  audience’s interest, losing

  Chisca Hotel concert

  Ellis Auditorium concert

  Elvis on Tour (film)

  Goodwill Revue concert

  Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo at Astrodome

  International Hotel (Las Vegas)

  jumpsuits

  New Year’s Eve at Silverdome

  Olympia Theatre concert

  overseas touring desire

  Overton Park (first major concert)

  Russwood Park concert

  talking to audience

  “Thus Spake Zarathustra” intro

  touring

  controversy over Elvis

  Cook, Carol (Schilling’s girlfriend)

  “Cool, Cool, Water” (Presley)

  Cuccia, Loretta (Schilling’s girlfriend)

  Davis, Richard (Memphis Mafia)

  Davis, Sammy, Jr.

  Dean, James

  death of Elvis, impact on Schilling

  death threat on Elvis

  Dieu, Shirley

  Diskin, Tom

  Dominoes

  “Don’t Be Cruel” (Presley)

  Doolittle brothers

  Doors of Perception, The (Huxley)

  Dorsey brothers

  Double Trouble (Elvis film)

  Dr. Strangelove (film)

  Easy Come, Easy Go (Elvis film)

  Ed Sullivan Show, The (TV show)
<
br />   El Charro! (Elvis film)

  Elvis In Concert (TV special)

  Elvis In Hollywood (film)

  Elvis on Tour (film)

  Elvis Presley Boulevard

  Elvis Presley Enterprises

  Elvis Presley (first album)

  Elvis: The Early Years (TV series)

  Elvis: The Great Performances (film)

  emerald ring from Elvis

  Esposito, Joe (Memphis Mafia)

  Evans, Mal

  Fairgrounds

  Fike, Lamar (Memphis Mafia)

  film career, Schilling

  firing by Elvis

  Colonel Tom Parker

  Memphis Mafia

  football games with Elvis

  Forest Hill Cemetery

  Fortas, Alan (Memphis Mafia) “Hog Ears”

  Frankie and Johnny (Elvis film)

  frustration of Elvis with

  acting

  recording

  funeral of Elvis

  Gambill, G. G. Gambill (Memphis Mafia) “Muffin”

  Geller, Larry (Memphis Mafia)

  Ghanem, Elias (Dr.)

  GI Blues (Elvis film)