Don’t Cry Darlin’
by
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August 16, 1977, Bernie, the United Parcel Service driver, came into my office with the shocking news that Elvis was dead. Little work was done that afternoon. It was a terrible Tuesday.
My boss returned from ‘coffee break,’ and loudly said, laughing, “Someone in Vegas is taking bets that Elvis is alive.” He went on to say the man would pay a million dollars to the person who could prove him right. I don’t remember the Vegas man’s name, but I remember saying, “Perhaps he knows something we don’t.” And the minute I said it I felt very peaceful. I too had a feeling Elvis was still on this earth. It seemed to me time would reveal the truth.
Sometime in 1987 I began supplementing my day job with a weekend child care position near my home. I worked weekend evenings until midnight or three in the morning.
The morning of March 12, 1988, I stopped at Safeway’s. There were no cars in the lot. I rushed in, and glanced to the checkout counters to the right. There was one clerk on duty; he was talking to a guy who I thought must be an employee, or perhaps from one of the cars parked at the back side of the store.
The specialty bread I wanted was sold out. As I turned to walk down an aisle towards the exit the guy, who had been at the checkout, was turning into the same aisle at the opposite end. The chances of that happening were perhaps one in a million; at best.
I have a habit (good or bad) of speaking to or smiling at everyone I pass. I’ve always thought people need someone to acknowledge them. I was ready to make a comment; even if it was a simple “Hello,” but as I got a few steps from him he quickly turned and reached for a can on the top shelf, so I had no eye contact with him. I didn’t take my eyes off him because I still intended to speak to him. He never turned, so I continued on. He just stood there touching the can, like he was going to pick it up. About five steps past him I came to a screeching halt. I just couldn’t ignore what I thought I saw. Since I had already passed him I’m surprised that he didn’t high tail it out the back.
I turned around and walked slowly until I had passed him. I stopped and turned around to look at him. He was still touching the same can, and it looked like he was looking out the corner of his eye to see what I was doing. Once again; I walked a few steps past him, stopped, and turned again, and just stared at him. It looked like he was stuck in that position. I walked past him again. I pondered whether I should just forget it and go on home. However, I just couldn’t forget about it, so I walked past him again; he still hadn’t moved.
It’s not my nature to be so bold, but finally I walked towards him, and said, “Excuse me; you look like, Elvis Presley.” He didn’t move. He was either pretending not to hear me or he was hard of hearing. However, I had a hunch there was nothing wrong with his hearing, so I moved a couple of steps closer. Speaking louder, I said, “Excuse me, you look like, Elvis Presley.” This time he turned to look at me. He smiled, but said nothing. By then, I was standing right beside him, and I nearly screamed, “Wow! You really look like Elvis.”
He looked directly into my eyes, smiled, stood for a moment, and then he grinned, and said, “If you don’t tell anybody, I won’t.” And let me tell you my knees turned to mush. I didn’t faint; however, I thought I was going to.
There was no way to control what happened next. I actually fell into him, so that he had to hold me up; and I cried. It amazed me that I could manufacture so many tears in just a moment.
It didn’t matter what he looked like, or who he looked like, but the fact is; he looked like Elvis. He apparently didn’t think it was necessary to use a disguise after so many years, but regardless, there was one thing he could never disguise, and that is his voice. It was Elvis.
He said, “Don’t cry darlin’.” I was so in shock, I couldn’t push myself away from him, so that I could look at him. We were both standing there with our arms around each other, and suddenly I realized I must be putting him in an extremely uncomfortable situation.
I told him I was shocked at meeting him, but I wouldn’t tell anyone. He laughed and said, “It’s okay if you do. No one would believe you anyway.” He laughed again. Then he asked me, “Are you sure you are okay?” I told him that I would be.
He was such a gentleman. He sincerely was concerned for me. Actually we were both in shock. He was trim. Still had shiny black hair falling down the right side of his forehead, and his eyes were clear blue; absolutely beautiful.
When we walked our separate ways a question entered my mind. I quickly turned, and was happy he was still walking towards the back. I yelled, “Excuse me.” He stopped, turned to look at me (smiling), and I asked, “What name do you use now?”
He continued to smile, and replied, “John Barrows.”
I smiled, and said, “Thanks, and God bless you John Barrows. Have a good life.”
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About the Book
The author writes about her close encounter with Elvis Presley March 12, 1988; almost eleven years after it was reported he had died. She also shares a conversation Elvis had with an Anchorage disc jockey at radio station KYAK Friday morning, October 14, 1988.
About the Author
The author ran away from home when she was a month shy of being fifty-two years of age. Anchorage Alaska was home for twenty-one years. Nineteen months after she arrived in the beautiful state she had a close encounter with Elvis Presley, in a Safeway Store, around three-fifteen in the morning; March 12, 1988; almost eleven years after it was reported he had died. She also shares a conversation Elvis had with an Anchorage disc jockey at radio station KYAK, Friday morning, October 14, 1988.
Pepper is believed to be the only writer who has published a book telling about an unexpected contact with Elvis after his reported death on August 16, 1977.
She resides in Huntsville, Alabama where her only child, Jami Lynn Dixon, lives with husband Terry Lynn. Two granddaughters; Tarah and Brittany, one grandson, Toby, and three great grandsons; Ethan, Haydn, and Noah, also live in Huntsville. Her grandson, JoShua, lives in New York City.
Since this is Pepper’s first published book, and is based on a short encounter; she has read other books, and researched for more interesting things to include that Elvis fans will enjoy.
Pepper hopes that the reader comes away with a deeper understanding of Elvis, and why he did what he did August 16, 1977.