Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, October 2, 1994 TAG: 9410040041
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: Steve Kark
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
The news came between striped bass tournaments at the resort, which is on the shores of Smith Mountain Lake. I dunno, you have to wonder why they decided to hold their news-breaking event at such a place. I suppose, if you think about it, you'd probably agree that theirs is a fairly unrewarding line of work, everybody else being so skeptical and all. Why not throw in a weekend of bass fishing when you can?
Anyway, during their news conference, commission members released a report in which they reveal that Elvis' death was faked to protect him from mob reprisals, which were probable, it goes on to say, because of his work as a government agent during the Nixon administration. He's been in the witness-protection program ever since, they said.
Yep, they got it nailed down pretty good. They don't call themselves a "commission" for nothing.
I've been bustin' to tell someone this for a long time, but knew I couldn't out of respect for the King of Rock 'n' Roll. But now that those commission folks have blown everything, I may as well let you in on the secret.
You see, Elvis has been holed up in Rye Hollow since he was flooded out of his secret place on the Mississippi River, just outside Memphis, two summers back.
And he told me how it all happened.
He said he was really ticked off by the press that day at the White House when he offered his services to the president. That picture of the two of them shaking hands in the oval office was supposed to be a personal memento.
It wasn't meant for publication, he told me. It blew his cover.
After that, things just kept getting worse for the king until, finally, he decided that he needed to take drastic action. He said he'd see these mob guys sprinkled in with his regular audience. They were easy to spot, these dark-suit guys in the midst of a writhing, screaming mass of middle-aged females.
So he'd gone into hiding. When Tennessee got too hot for him, the government found this secluded place way back in the hollow on Big Walker Creek. They gave Elvis a pick-up truck and an old hound dog, which, as I recall, tickled him no end. They told him he couldn't wear those fancy leather outfits anymore, but he said wearing a T-shirt and blue jeans was a whole lot more comfortable anyway. It went along with his "Bubba P." cover.
He still traveled around a lot, and every once in a while somebody'd recognize him when he stopped to get a Slurpee or something.
Although he kept to himself most of the time, sometimes he'd surprise us. Once he came down and helped me split some wood. He was wearing these silly-looking black pajamas, but it turned out this was his karate outfit and he was right skillful at it after all. He was like that, real neighborly.
Anyway, we'll miss him out here in the hollow. Since those commission folks were closing in on him, the government had to relocate Elvis again, which is a darn shame.
That ol' boy could whip up some stinky catfish bait.
Steve Kark is an instructor at Virginia Tech and a correspondent for the Roanoke Times & World-News' New River Valley bureau. He writes from his home in scenic Rye Hollow, in a remote part of Giles County south of Pearisburg.
by CNB