Chapter 30: The Wind Changes - The King and the Man in Black Head to the White House
Above: In a highly publicized series of meetings, President Kennedy invites Elvis Presley, the King of Rock N Roll to the White House to discuss the possibility of working together on a program to help fight drug addiction among the nation’s youth (left). Country Music Star Johnny Cash gives a free concert to the public in the West Wing. After performing, he and President Kennedy meet to talk prison reform (right).
Returning home to the United States on the heels of his second ever European tour, and leaving opening act Buster and the Battery behind to continue their own development in London, Elvis Presley was feeling more invigorated about his career than he had since it had begun some thirteen years before at Sun Studios. Away from the cheesy Hollywood movies and the Colonel’s often dictatorial control over his every move, the King finally felt like he could flex his creative muscles a bit. The summer of love brought days full of new recording sessions in San Francisco with Chet Atkins and nights spent in marital bliss with Ann, who had earlier in the year accepted a series regular role in the third season hit ABC series
Batman, starring in the role of Poison Ivy. The songs came to the King easily under the watchful eyes of Atkins and Chips Moman, another bigwig brought in from back home in Memphis to help Presley refine his sound. In addition to a fresh perspective and another set of ears, Moman brought with him three tunes which would go on to be some of the biggest hits of Elvis’ career: a ballad about a desperate boy in a poverty stricken city trying to survive through thievery, “In the Ghetto”; another, a tale of a lovestruck lad struggling to find his love, who has fled from him, “Kentucky Rain”; and of course, “Suspicious Minds”; a soul-infused Rock smash which would arguably become Presley’s signature song.
In addition to the millions of copies each of these singles would sell, they earned critical accolades for the King as well. Critics who had previously dismissed Presley as (according to
Rolling Stone): “an aging Rock N Roller trying to recapture the energy of ten years ago”, now hailed him for “recognizing and joining the growing social awareness and responsibility that Rock music carries with it.” Critics and fans alike also praised the new tunes and the album they were released on,
Elvis from San Francisco for its bold new sound. Elvis combined the raw energy of his prior work with the Gospel-influenced soul he felt deeply in his southern bones. The audio was bigger, stronger, and more lush than his previous work had been, but it felt like it was keeping with the times. The minimalist beats produced on the records released by Sam Phillips captured teenagers’ sexual angst and desire for rebellion in the 1950’s, but this new, more informed and mature style of music seemed the next logical step in Elvis’ progression as an artist, and matched the prosperity and good feelings encouraged by the prosperity and progress of the Kennedy years. The record’s innocence, its earnestness were distinctly Elvis and his fanbase ate it up in droves.
Not all was perfect for the King during the Summer of Love, however. Though his career had never been healthier, his own personal health was beginning to suffer under the constant pressure of touring and making new music. An addiction to “uppers” and “downers”, pills designed to give him energy and then help him sleep it off, an old carry over that had begun during his army days; was beginning to catch up with him. On the off chance that he was forced to be without the drugs for any amount of time, Presley would become agitated, irritable, and difficult to work with, retreating into himself for long periods of time. One such night occurred in August of 1967, shortly after the release of
Elvis from San Francisco. The King was returning from a night about the city with Ann in his pink Cadillac, when Elvis realized he didn’t have his pills. They’d been left in the studio earlier that day and were now locked in. He wouldn’t be able to reach them until the doors were opened again at eight the next morning.
Ann would later recall that her husband began to sweat, shiver, and curse under his breath repeatedly. Perennially known for his shy, soft spoken demeanor and kindness, these behaviors seemed vastly out of place, and Ann tried to ask him what was wrong. She imagined it was the city itself starting to eat away at Elvis’ patience. Elvis Presley was by no means a square. The King ruled over a domain occupied by the most rebellious, raucous variety of music ever recorded. He had shared a joint with Paul McCartney and Ann in London during the Elvis/Beatles megatour two years before. Despite all of that however, he was, in his heart of hearts, still that shy farm boy from Tupelo, Mississippi. He didn’t begrudge the hippies their long hair, roman sandals, or loud music, but the idea of “free love” struck him as foreign and tragic. In the wild, psychedelic parties of Haight-Ashbury, Elvis felt isolated, lonely, and overwhelmed. That very August night, he and Ann had gone out to dinner and been interrupted on more than one occasion by hippie types, asking if he could tell them what it was like to play with Jimi Hendrix or George Harrison. Elvis was always gracious and humble, but Ann quietly wondered if this frustration was something her soul mate had been bottling up for a while, now.
“Elvis,” she said, hoping to get his attention. “Darling, what’s wrong?”
“What?” He snapped, turning his head toward her with fire and brimstone in his eyes.
“You look terrible.” His wife replied flatly, and reached out to touch his hand. “Honey, what’s going on? Why are you so upset?”
Elvis pulled his hand away and sighed heavily. In all his years, Elvis had never been one to admit weakness or defeat. His liking the pills was just a silly, nervous habit; like tapping feet or chewing fingernails. The Colonel had told him over and over that it was nothing to feel ashamed about, everyone in Hollywood took pills. Yet he couldn’t help but hate himself a little every time he opened one of the bottles and popped an upper or a downer. He’d read about what almost happened to Marilyn Monroe because of her addiction to pills. His good friend and Sun Records alumni Johnny Cash struggled with them too. “Your life’s being drained from ya by those pills, Elvis.” Cash had told him in a phone call earlier that year, to let him know that Cash was being checked into rehab by June Carter, who wouldn’t even think of marrying him until he got himself cleaned up. “I’m not calling to preach, I’m certainly in no position to judge. But I care about you, friend. Just figured I’d say my piece and wish you’d get some help.” Cash’s call had ended abruptly when Elvis muttered something about “being fine” and hung up the phone in a daze. Now though, sitting in the car with Ann and seeing the concern spreading hopelessly across her face, something inside of Elvis broke. The dam gave way.
“I need help, Ann.” He said, barely above a whisper as tears filled his eyes. “Good lord, I need help.”
…
Along with Cash, who managed to clean up his act and kick the habit over the course of the Summer of Love, Elvis checked himself into rehab shortly thereafter. With the support of his family, friends, and of course, Ann; the King managed to overcome his addictions, and was given a clean bill of health on November 11th, 1967. In the immediate, Ann and his friends thought it best for Elvis to take some time off to relax and regain his strength before returning to the road or studio again. It had been the stress of performing and producing that had turned him onto pills in the first place, after all. During that time, Elvis stayed at home in Graceland and watched a lot of the evening news.
Never a very political person, Elvis nonetheless couldn’t help but think and reflect when images of hippies and young people being arrested at parties, drugged out of their minds were beamed into his living room on the TV. The inspiring words of his pastor, and his recent therapy sessions still fresh in his mind, an idea happened upon Presley in the early winter weeks of 1967: maybe he could do something to help counter the growing trend of drug use among the nation’s young people. Using his immense personal wealth and connections within the entertainment industry, it didn’t take long for him to get a hold of Evelyn Lincoln, President Kennedy’s personal secretary. After some brief small talk, the King asked if she thought it at all possible that he could get a meeting with the President, even a very brief one. Lincoln responded that she could promise him nothing, but that she would bring the idea up to Kennedy the very next time she saw him. The King thanked her profusely, and stated his intentions should such a meeting be arranged: “I want to do what I can to help raise awareness of the dangers of prescription drug abuse, and was hoping that the President would have an idea about how I could do that.”
For his part, Kennedy was mostly ambivalent on the idea of meeting with Presley. He was walking with Ted and Bobby after they’d returned from a series of hearings on the Hill when Mrs. Lincoln brought the idea up to him, resulting in a furious storm of laughter from the three Kennedy brothers. “Who does he think I am,” The President laughed. “Ed Sullivan?” Lincoln scolded him for his dismissive attitude, reminding him that a concerned citizen, particularly a celebrity with the potential reach of Elvis Presley was a rare enough thing in this day and age, and ought to be encouraged, not derided. After making sure that his crowded schedule allowed time for a meeting, the President gave the idea his reluctant approval.
The King and the President met for the first time in the Roosevelt Room for a one hour meeting on the afternoon of December 13th, 1967. Much more well spoken and intelligent than Kennedy initially would have given him credit for, Presley managed to leave something of a lasting impression on the President in the short time they spent together. Though Kennedy would not bring Presley aboard as some sort of “Youth Adviser” as Ted had jokingly suggested, the President would take the issue of licit and illicit drugs, and the potentially devastating effects of addiction into serious consideration for the rest of his administration. Later that month, Country music star Johnny Cash would perform with Elvis in the West Wing and meet with the President for a series of conferences to talk about the possibility of reforming the nation’s prison system, which Cash felt was overcrowded, inefficient, and not serving its true purpose to the American people: to reform and rehabilitate criminals, not just punish them.
The concert, which was recorded and released as a live album, would eventually go platinum. The proceeds from sales all went to various non for profits dedicated to achieving the reforms Cash and Presley sought.
Though some conservatives gave the President flak for inviting “Rock N Rollers” to the White House when there was “important business to be done”, the President shrugged off such criticisms by reminding the press that Franklin Delano Roosevelt had often met with important figures in the entertainment industry during World War II to discuss what they could do for the war effort. “Recall if you can,” the President said to his detractors. “My first inaugural address. I called upon the people of this great country to ask not what their country could do for them, but what they could do for their country. If Elvis Presley and Johnny Cash want to lend a hand, who are we to tell them not to?”
Next Time on Blue Skies in Camelot: A Look into the British-Rhodesian Conflict
Photo Credits for the edited images of Kennedy and Elvis to Hulkster'01 and Nerdman3000 respectively!