The Colonel (72 page)

On such a project, photographs are especially important, and while many people contributed, I owe a round of applause to Jeff Burak, Time Pix; Kelly C. Hill, Photography Research Manager, and
Angie Marchise, Curatorial Assistant, Elvis Presley Enterprises Inc.; Steve Buchanan, President, Grand Ole Opry Group, and Barbara Turner, Gaylord Entertainment Group, for assistance with the
Gordon Gillingham photo collection; Maria Columbus; James Forsher; Tony Davidson; Trish McGee, the Ryman Auditorium; John Mott; Elizabeth Odle, The Nashville Public Library; James R. Reid; Michele
Romero,
Entertainment Weekly;
Robin Rosaaen; Karen Silveroli, the Las Vegas News Bureau; Marsh Starks and Rebecca Bagayas,
The Las Vegas Sun; The Tampa Tribune
library and photo
departments; Richard Weize and Heidi Cordsmeier of Bear Family Records; and the incomparable Al Wertheimer.

A very special thanks to Greg Howell, former exhibitions and collections manager of Graceland; to Paula B. Kennedy and Joan Buchanan West, of the E. P. Continentals Elvis Fan Club, who helped me
unearth a key part of Marie Parker’s past; and to Mark North, who gave me an extraordinary tour of Parker’s former home in Madison, Tennessee.

And for care and feeding of the author, Elizabeth Thiels and Ellen and Bill Pryor in Nashville; Ted Dons and Maria Dons-Maas in Holland; Barbara Shircliffe, Sandra Polk Ross, and Frances Keenan
in Tampa; and in Memphis, Charles and Virginia Overholt, who at the directive of Diana Magrann, kindly let me stay in Vernon Presley’s house. My Memphis cousin, DeAnna Mooneyhan, was brave
beyond all measure.

On a technical note, it’s impossible to properly thank Jerry Maskalick and Dan Coddington of Dr. Dan’s Computers, as well as Brian Arnold, for modifying my word processing for this
project, and for gluing it—and me—back together when my system crashed, and crashed, and crashed.

Finally, I haven’t the words to thank my parents, Allan and Emily Kay Nash, who gave me bottomless financial and emotional support during this long and difficult journey. No mother and
father could have done more. Judy F. May, Elizabeth Clifford, and Robert Morse also deserve my deepest gratitude for always being there, as does Carolyn Shircliffe, who transcribed nearly all of
the hundreds of interviews I conducted for the book. Her family—Mary Jo Shircliffe, Barbara Shircliffe, and the late Montgomery Shircliffe—did so much in innumerable ways to make this
book see the light of day, and served as my guardian angels on a constant basis. Additionally, Robin Rosaaen supervised all critical Elvis sightings, and Bill and Connie Burk performed Herculean
deeds, especially on our joint trip to Holland. Bill also fact-checked the manuscript.

Warm thanks, too, to Bobbie Ann Mason and Frances Zichanowicz, who kept me buoyed during the last half of the writing. And I’m especially grateful to Phil Collier of Stites & Harbison
for extraordinary legal magic, and Hugh Wright, Leslie K. Hale, Missy Coorssen of National City Bank, and Susan Lemley of Grover Greweling & Co., CPA.

In many ways, it is astonishing that this book survived the many setbacks that threatened its publication, but then it had many shepherds along the way. Joyce Engelson, as always, offered sage
advice and enthusiasm when I needed it most, as did Regula Noetzli and David Black.

But it was Sam Hughes and Bob Solinger of the Dickens Group Literary Agency who lent a peerless stewardship. Sam was the one who strongly encouraged me to do the book, since I had met with the
Colonel on three occasions in Las Vegas and had written about him in my two previous books on Elvis. She was always the one with the clearest vision for it, never giving up when others, including
myself, lost faith.

Sam and I labored through some wrenching times in the six years it took to bring the book to completion, and at one dark juncture, we not only split our business association, but also dissolved
our deep friendship. Two years went by before we reconciled, and she set me back on course to continue the writing, working several miracles along the way. “It just looks as if we were meant
to be together,” she said, and I knew she was right.

The day after Simon & Schuster agreed to acquire the book, Sam became ill with pneumonia. Two weeks later, she died, at the age of fifty-five, leaving a crater in my heart and an unfillable
void in the lives of her family and clients. After that, not a day went by that I didn’t feel her sitting next to me at the word processor, suggesting a word here, elaborating on an idea
there. Now a project that started out as one kind of haunting had turned into another. Here’s to you, Sam. I’ll be seeing you.