Thirty years ago tomorrow: August 16, 1977. The death of Elvis Presley (if you truly believe that he's dead). He would be 72 if he was still alive.
It was my Dad's 46th birthday, and I was just a couple weeks from leaving home to start university, at what was then Ryerson Polytechnical Institute. After birthday cake for dessert, I borrowed my Dad's car to get together with my buddies for one of the last times before we dispersed to various colleges and universities. I had just pulled out of the driveway when I heard on the radio that the King had died. A couple of weeks later, on Labour Day weekend, the radio waves were full of Elvis tributes and music.
Your turn. Where were you when you heard?
3 comments:
I was 7 and getting ready to go to greek dancing classes when my teachers husband called to say classes were cancelled for the rest of the week because she had barricaded herself in her room, crying and was NOT coming out!
I thought whats the BIG deal? Remember I was 7.
I was 8. We were on vacation camping on PEI. My dad was visibly upset, and for the next few days, all you heard on the radio was Elvis...
I honestly don't remember where I was. I was 20, in a rock band, and - as sacrilegious as it may sound to some - never much of a fan of Elvis Presley. I was musing on the air today about what he'd be doing if he were alive today - Would he be bouncing grandchildren and great-grandchildren on his knee (because he absolutely adored Lisa Marie), or would he be a judge on America's Got Talent, still craving attention and fame? We'll never know. Rest In Peace, Elvis. I'm sorry the star system swallowed you up the way it did.
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