Elvis candlelight vigil is 'socially distanced' at Graceland

Ticketed, socially distanced and accompanied by heavy security, this year's pandemic-adjusted Graceland candlelight vigil may have been the most regimented Elvis-connected activity since Sergeant Presley was mustered out of the Army in 1960.

On a typical Aug. 15, hundreds of mourners, tourists, fans, curiosity-seekers, rubberneckers, Presleyphiles, "Elvis Tribute Artists" (known as "Elvis impersonators," to the uninitiated), and others gather outside the gates of Graceland, to observe or take part in a candlelight procession to the Elvis grave that lasts deep into the morning of Aug. 16, the date on which the Tupelo-born, Memphis-based King of Rock 'n Roll died at the age of 42 in 1977.

Saturday's vigil, however, had been reshaped by Graceland officials for the socially distanced era of COVID-19. The funeral visitation-meets-block party vibe of the traditional vigil was replaced with something more orderly, more lonely and more intimate.

To eliminate unhealthy crowding, only 720 people were allowed to take part in the event, which was confined to three hours, from 9 p.m. to midnight. Participants were required to reserve a free advance ticket, a fact that had made the event a "sell-out" by the middle of last week. Most of the attendees came from beyond the Tennessee-Mississippi-Arkansas region, Graceland officials said, but due to the virus the usual contingent of Elvis visitors from overseas were absent.

"We're here for all the people who can't be here," said Mary Clark, 27, a member of the Austin, Texas-based Elvis Country Fan Club, which originated the vigil in 1978, before it was adopted by Graceland and made the emotional climax of the days of Presley commemoration and celebration known as "Elvis Week."

In addition, concrete barriers and traffic-flow barricades blocked Elvis Presley Boulevard to foot as well as vehicle traffic on either side of Graceland, meaning only those with a vigil ticket, media credentials or some other type of pass could reach the mansion. Masks, of course, were mandatory.

"It's very important that we held this event, and made sure that it would be a safe event, because this is what Elvis Week is all about," said Angie Marchese, Graceland's vice president for archives and exhibits, who an hour before the start of the vigil was helping members of the Elvis Country Fan Club put oil in the torches that would be lit with fire from the four urns of "eternal flame" that illuminate the Presley family graves in the Meditation Garden on the south side of the mansion.

These torches, in turn, were used to light the candles of the Elvis fans who processed through the Graceland gates. After lighting their candles, the fans moved up the long driveway, past the creative Elvis-themed floral arrangements and other memorial tributes left earlier in the week, and to the grave marker that reads "Elvis Aaron Presley," which, as per tradition, was flanked at its head by flowers sent by Lisa Marie Presley, the singer's daughter, and by Priscilla Presley, his former wife. 

Although their tickets guaranteed entrance through the gates at a specific time, most fans arrived early, as in the Before Time, back when they had never heard the term "coronavirus."

Chris Wilson, 15, said he spent 12 hours Saturday outside Graceland, in anticipation of his 11:15 p.m. admission. "When I first saw the wall, I was ecstatic," said Chris, referring to the brick-and-stone wall in front of Graceland that is covered in fan-scrawled graffito messages to Elvis. 

Chris is a  sophomore in high school who said he has been an Elvis fan since sixth grade. His family likes Elvis, but it was mostly at Chris' insistence that they drove from Louisville to Memphis for the vigil. In addition to enjoying Elvis' music, "his clothing's pretty cool," Chris said.

"If you want to know my favorite jumpsuit," he volunteered, "it's 'Aloha from Hawaii.'"

Chris wasn't the only fan who enjoyed the wall. "I wrote this many years ago," said Libby Parks, 71, of Memphis, indicating a message written in dark ink on the bricks near the Graceland gate: "ELVIS = WORLD PEACE."

The sentiment expressed an apparently common belief among Elvis fans at the vigil that Presley's appeal transcends generations and cultures, and that his music represents a hopeful and unifying response for an age of divisiveness. 

"He's timeless, he looks good, he makes you happy," summarized Carol Ikami of the California Bay Area who, along with her sister, Lissa Ikami, and their friends, the Memphis sisters Libby Parks and Mary Pat Van Epps, had secured the first four entry tickets to the vigil.

Vigil attendees for many years, the pairs of sisters found Saturday's underpopulated event to be strange yet inspiring. The absence of Elvis fan-friends from years past was sad, yet their non-presence caused them to be appreciated.

"I miss all the friends we have from around the world, from the UK, Brazil, Japan, Germany, that we only see once a year during Elvis Week," said Carol Ikami. 

"My two friends from Louisiana aren't here, so I have them around my neck," said Van Epps, who wore a snapshot-style color photograph of two women on a makeshift necklace. During this Elvis Week like no other, with most of Graceland's official "events" relegated to "virtual" streaming choices and online activities, it made sense that some candlelight vigil mourners would pay their respects through symbolic representation rather than in person.

The Ikamis also wore something unique they had created: pro-mask Elvis buttons.

The button featured the words "Elvis Week 2020 - Year of the COVID" and "Dr. Carpenter Says Wear Your Mask," which surrounded a photograph of Elvis as "Dr. Carpenter" in the 1969 movie "Change of Habit." In the photo, Elvis wears a stethoscope around his neck, but the sisters added something new to his face: a red face mask.