by Ginger Alden
I soon realized I was now of interest to the press. One day, I was at home and planning to take a drive with my family when I noticed a strange car parked on the street in front of our home with the engine running. A man was sitting inside it. Who was this? Was this a photographer or a reporter?
Just in case, my sisters and I donned sunglasses before walking to the car to make it more difficult for someone to tell who was who. Sure enough, the car followed us.
My dad randomly drove around for a while, but eventually had to stop and get gas. The car that had been following us pulled up at the gas station, too, and the driver got out. He approached our car and peered into the backseat.
“Which one is Ginger?” he asked.
Determined to protect my privacy, my sisters and I pointed at one another. The man walked away, not looking too happy. I was glad he couldn’t hear my heart thudding against my rib cage. I knew we wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long though as the word was definitely out: I was with Elvis.
On the night of January 26, I was watching television with Elvis in Lisa’s bedroom. He left the room at one point and was gone for long enough that I looked to see where he was.
I found Elvis talking on the phone in his bedroom. I returned to Lisa’s room and watched some more television, then heard a commotion as others came and went upstairs, speaking in private with Elvis.
It wasn’t like him to avoid me. As more time passed, I started to feel odd and began worrying that something might be wrong. When Elvis finally returned to Lisa’s room, he took my hand without saying a word and led me into his dressing area.
I was all the more puzzled as he guided me toward a black chair in front of his bathroom window, where Elvis asked me to sit down. As soon as I was seated, he knelt before me with one hand behind his back.
“Ginger, I’ve been searching for love so long,” Elvis said, “and never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would find it in my own backyard. I’ve been sixty percent happy and forty percent happy, but never a hundred percent. I’ve loved before but I’ve never been in love. Ginger, I’m asking you: Will you marry me?”
Elvis brought his hand out from around his back. In it was a small, green velvet box.
Nearly overcome by emotion, my voice quavered. I was glad I was sitting down because I wasn’t sure my shaking legs could have supported me. “Yes,” I managed, holding on to the beautiful words he’d just spoken.
Elvis placed the box in my hand, which was now trembling. Inside it was the most magnificent ring I had ever seen, with a huge center diamond surrounded by six smaller ones.
I kissed Elvis, feeling my eyes brim with tears. He delicately took the ring from the box and slipped it onto the ring finger of my left hand. It was a perfect fit.
Now I remembered the jeweler, Lowell, Elvis had called to the house to measure my finger. I realized he must have planned this then.
With a hint of nervousness in his voice, Elvis asked me to hold up my hand so he could see what the ring looked like. Commenting on how beautiful it was, he said, “God will come through me and tell me when the time is right for our wedding. Are you ready? Can you cope with my lifestyle?”
“Yes,” I answered, still naive but ready to do whatever that entailed.
“There will be a lot of people jealous of you,” Elvis went on, “but you should always be a lady, and if negative things are ever said, just bow out gracefully.”
“I will,” I said, clueless at that bright moment in our lives as to just how deep and biting those jealousies would become. I was also unaware of how close some of the people around Elvis were to the other women in his past, and how loyal they would remain to those women. I only knew that I loved Elvis and hoped his feelings for me were as deep as what I felt for him. I was willing to wait to marry until the time felt right to Elvis, and intended to leave it all up to him. But, for now, having a ring on my finger made me realize that he was as deeply committed to our relationship as I was. We were going to build a future together and I was never happier.
When we walked out of his bathroom, I was surprised to see Charlie and Billy Smith standing in Elvis’s bedroom. I blushed, knowing they must have been in on the secret and were waiting for us to come out and tell them our news.
Beaming, Elvis said to me, “Show them the ring.”
I was proud to, and in such a daze, my hand almost rose on its own.
Elvis took hold of it and shook his head. “Boy, oh boy,” he said.
Charlie and Billy hugged and congratulated us. Then Charlie presented us with a small backgammon set and said, “This is a little engagement gift.” This was so sweet of him, and I hugged him again.
Shortly afterward, Elvis’s stepbrothers, Ricky and David, entered the room to give us their hugs and congratulations as well. Everyone knew! The overwhelmingly cheerful response was comforting, but I wondered if these men would ever really accept me as Mrs. Presley, or if they felt that Elvis getting married might bring some change in the dynamics of their relationships with Elvis.
Every few minutes, Elvis would tell me to hold up my hand so everyone could see the ring. I think I was still in a state of shock because each time he did this, I had trouble keeping my hand from trembling.
After everyone had finally left us alone, Elvis and I sat on the bed. He asked me to raise my hand several more times, so he could look at the ring again.
“It looks like a car headlight,” Elvis said proudly at one point.
“I think it’s beautiful,” I countered, leaning over to kiss him. I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t take my eyes off the ring. At first I was dying to call my family and let them know, but then decided it would be fun to do it in person.
Elvis wanted others in the house to see the ring and know we were engaged. He called for Aunt Delta and the maids to come up. With each new arrival, he proudly again asked me to hold out my hand, even aiming the overhead reading light so the ring gleamed and sparkled, giving them a better look. Each one enthusiastically congratulated us.
It wasn’t until after Elvis’s death that I would learn the center diamond in my engagement ring was the diamond from his custom-made TCB ring, which Elvis always wore onstage. The jeweler, Lowell Hayes, had made it for him and years later he described on his website how this engagement ring came to be. Elvis had called him at one o’clock one morning telling him that he wanted Lowell to make an engagement ring for me with a diamond that looked like the one in the middle of Elvis’s TCB ring. Lowell protested, saying he didn’t have a diamond like that, but Elvis called him back half an hour later and said he had to have the ring that very night and pleaded with him to make it.
Lowell reported that he’d called diamond dealers in New York then, but they all reported that nobody could get a diamond of that size on such short notice, since the diamonds were kept in vaults overnight. Once Lowell had delivered the bad news to Elvis, though, he had pondered the problem some more, and realized they could use the diamond from Elvis’s TCB ring and find another to replace it later. Elvis was thrilled with that idea.
Lowell had driven to Graceland to collect the ring and went back to the jewelry shop to remove the diamond and make a mounting for it. He centered the TCB diamond and added three diamonds on either side of it, then drove back to Graceland to present the ring to Elvis—all on the same night. When I heard this story, I was once again reminded that the rules in Elvis’s world were a lot different from the rules governing everyone else.
• • •
It had been an extraordinarily unforgettable night. By the end of it, I had come to believe with certainty that all of the things Elvis had been saying to me about us being soul mates and us having a future together were absolutely true. I was committed to Elvis heart and soul.
The following afternoon, I woke eager to share my news with my family, but there were a few more people to announce it to at Graceland fi
rst. Elvis and I went downstairs to show the ring to his grandmother. Dodger was sitting in bed when we entered her room. When Elvis told her we were engaged, she took my hand in hers, smiled sweetly at Elvis, and said she was happy for us.
Elvis was still as excited as he’d been the night before; now he wanted to show his father the ring. I followed him out the back door. I hadn’t seen that much of Vernon at Graceland. He usually spoke to Elvis by phone and I felt nervous about his reaction to our news. He was a nice man, but from the little I’d been around him, I knew Vernon could be blunt. I was slightly intimidated by him. What if he didn’t like the idea of me being Elvis’s second wife?
For whatever reasons—mostly due to the chilly weather, the fact that we’d been touring, and Elvis’s preference for his bedroom—I had never actually been in the backyard of Graceland before, though I hadn’t really thought about that until now. We walked through a pasture behind a racquetball court, and I saw some horses in the distance before entering Vernon’s property through a gate in the fence surrounding his backyard. Elvis had built a two-story white house with black trim for his father on Dolan Drive, which ran along one side of the land surrounding Graceland.
After Elvis showed Vernon the ring, his father embraced us both and congratulated us. I immediately felt relieved. I didn’t sense that Vernon was really surprised, though, which made me wonder if Elvis had spoken to him at some point about giving me a ring.
As he had earlier with me, Elvis told his father that God would tell him when the time was right to set the date. We visited for a bit. Before long, however, Elvis said to me, “Let’s go see your parents.” I was happy and couldn’t wait to tell them the news!
I didn’t even give my family any advance warning of our arrival. They were plainly surprised when they opened the door and saw Elvis and me standing together on the front porch.
I kept my hand behind my back until we were in the den, where Elvis turned to me and said, “Show them your hand.”
I was still finding it difficult to hold my hand steady as I brought it from around my back. My parents looked at the ring, then back at us, speechless.
“We’re engaged,” Elvis said, effectively making what he had told my mother on the phone in Las Vegas an exciting reality. I was touched to see that he seemed a little anxious as he waited for their reaction and approval.
I wish I’d brought a camera to capture the completely stunned look on my parents’ faces. My mother broke the silence finally, smiling and saying, “I’m so happy! And what a beautiful ring! I’ve never seen a diamond that large!”
My parents hugged the two of us. Serious, Elvis then said to them, “I’m going to take good care of Ginger, don’t you worry.”
Making direct eye contact with Elvis, my father smiled and said, “I’m sure you will.” He shook his hand.
Then Rosemary and Terry came in, and when we’d announced our news to them, the elation and congratulations started up again!
Elvis and I stayed another hour or so, relaxing at my house and basking in my family’s excitement. When we returned to Graceland later, I couldn’t help but wonder what Vernon really thought, so I asked Elvis, “What was your father’s reaction to our engagement?”
He replied, “My daddy only asked, ‘Son, does she do little things for you?’ And I told him yes.”
It felt good hearing his answer, since I had tried to pamper Elvis in small ways, such as ordering food for him, rubbing his back, reading with him, and even placing cotton balls in his ears so he could sleep better.
According to Elvis, his father had then responded, “Good. What could a forty-year-old woman do for you, like what can a sixty-year-old do for me? Nothing.”
I didn’t agree with what Vernon said, but didn’t comment. Of course I was glad that Vernon was comfortable with the age difference between Elvis and me, but hearing his words made me think that maybe Vernon brought Elvis up believing that’s what a man needed, a younger woman to take care of him since Elvis was with me and Vernon was with Sandy. I was glad to take care of Elvis—but equally glad that Elvis seemed keen on taking care of me, too.
A few nights after our engagement, Elvis returned to my family’s home to visit and, while he was there, invited his jeweler to come over.
When Lowell arrived, he brought TCB and TLC necklaces with him. As he had done with me, Elvis slipped the symbolic necklaces over the heads of each of my family members. He wanted my family to know they were now part of his inner circle and family. And this was his way of making sure that others knew it as well.
Impulsive, extravagant gestures remained the norm for Elvis. On the spur of the moment, he invited my whole family to Las Vegas again. He called the sheriff, and the sheriff called the mayor of Memphis to see if the district chief would give my brother permission to take the following day off from the fire department.
The power of Elvis worked and the chief said yes.
We flew to Las Vegas, where we all stayed at the Hilton and Elvis gave each member of my family a hundred dollars for gambling in the casino. Elvis preferred to remain in his room with me again and I now felt that Elvis got bored sometimes and just a change in location relaxed him. It would have been nice to see one of the Las Vegas shows, but I understood that, if Elvis went out, it would be a big deal. I was confident that one day, if I asked him, we would see some shows together. I didn’t mind staying inside with him that night, and I felt especially happy knowing my family was being treated to a wonderful time.
The two of us kept to our usual patterns and spent our time watching television and reading together in our hotel room. This time Elvis had brought The Impersonal Life, a book by Joseph Benner. It was a small book about self-discovery and looking within for true spiritual guidance. Elvis was seriously interested in the concepts and eager to share them with me.
One never knew what Elvis might say or do, and at one point during the night, Elvis asked me to sit with him, close my eyes, and practice saying, “Be still and know that I am God.”
As we sat, chanting this phrase in an attempt to bring inner peace, Elvis suddenly got a cramp in his toe that didn’t let up. So much for inner peace! He finally jumped up from the bed and, still holding on to his foot, began hopping around. He was laughing and cursing through the pain, which made me get tickled, too.
It took a little while for the cramp to go away, and it was pretty funny to watch how Elvis kept his sense of humor while in agony. As others were being entertained in showrooms across Las Vegas, I was getting a uniquely private performance as Elvis danced for me!
Later, we connected with my family and visited with them for a while. We were in Las Vegas for only one night and before I knew it, we were on our way back to Memphis.
• • •
Not long after we returned to Graceland, Elvis again brought up his wish to buy my family a new home. He also mentioned again that I should have my own room and phone line, so he could “easily get in touch with me.” I was still uncomfortable about Elvis buying a house for my family.
I hadn’t pursued the idea, nor had my family, but Elvis remained determined to follow through with this. He decided to take matters into his own hands one day and contacted his cousin GeeGee, asking him to set up an appointment with a Realtor to look at a home. Elvis also invited my parents to come to Graceland so they could go with us.
My mother showed up, accompanied by Rosemary and my niece Amber. My father was working a late shift. We rode along with GeeGee and Patsy to a two-story home in the Whitehaven area, a neighborhood closer to Graceland.
Two Realtors gave us a tour of the home. It was an older house and still occupied. As we walked around the first floor, Elvis said, “Well, don’t look at it as it is, because there will be a lot of repairs that will need to be made on it. Picture it in a different light, with new carpeting and bathroom fixtures.”
We went upstairs. When I sa
w that the house had five bedrooms, I realized the house must be much more expensive than the one we lived in now. Elvis peered at the backyard through one of the upstairs windows. “You need a pool,” he said. “The backyard looks small, and there’s no room for a pool.”
Elvis had been holding my hand the whole time. When he let go, Amber quickly took my hand. Elvis shot her a look. “Amber, watch it,” he said with a grin. “You’re getting too close.”
Before we left, Elvis told my mother, “Keep looking to see if you can find one in the neighborhood with four or five bedrooms. I’d like you to have one closer to Graceland, but you have to live in the house. It should be something that pleases you and has a room for each of you.”
With the difficulty that my parents were having in their marriage, I knew the last thing they would be focused on was looking for a new house, but we could all tell Elvis was extremely serious about doing this. His benevolent spirit continued to astonish me.
CHAPTER 18
Learning how to be part of Elvis’s life was like running next to a fast-moving train, grabbing a door handle, and jumping on board. That express train showed no signs of slowing down.
His new tour began in Florida on February 12. Elvis wanted me to see how he prepared for his shows, so at one point he asked me to join him in his bathroom on the Lisa Marie. There he mixed up a saline solution, tilted his head back, and poured the salt water down each nostril. This made him cough and helped clear his throat.
Another time aboard the Lisa Marie, Elvis asked me to come into his bathroom before that night’s show. He leaned against the sink and handed me a black eye pencil. He wanted me to touch up a few gray whiskers on his sideburns and a couple of gray hairs in his eyebrows. I never thought of his gray hair as detracting from his sex appeal in any way, but Elvis obviously didn’t like it.