Read Online Elvis and Ginger: Elvis Presley's Fiancée and Last Love Finally Tells Her Story by Ginger Alden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ginger Alden
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seeing for a few months, telephoned me at home that night, I was thrown into another emotional tailspin. Whether it was my doing or not, things had changed for me. The past weekend had been completely mind-blowing, and I hadn’t gone one day without thinking about Elvis.
I needed to be honest and up-front with Larry, so I asked him to come over that night. I knew that telling him about Elvis and my sudden change of heart would catch him as off guard as it had me, and I felt bad about that. I didn’t know if Elvis would even call me again, but I was willing to wait and see.
Larry and I talked for a while. Afterward, he still wasn’t ready to accept that I wanted to end things, and he left expressing the hope that we could sort things through.
I had gone about my normal schedule, worked at the dress shop and otherwise spent time with my family, but I hadn’t gone out in the evenings, wondering if Elvis would call. My family had been stunned by the bracelet Elvis had given me. I was so afraid of having it fall off my wrist that I didn’t wear it often; I only looked at it in my bedroom, still surprised that Elvis had given it to me. It seemed to have been something special to him and yet I hadn’t heard from him.
When Thanksgiving came and went, and all day Friday, too, without a call from Elvis, I truly felt that something wasn’t right. I must have misinterpreted what had happened between Elvis and me. I was just going to have to wake up and return to my real life.
On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, a man called our home. He said he was Elvis’s road manager, Joe Esposito, and asked to speak with me. My mood immediately lifted as Joe told me Elvis was on tour, would be in San Francisco, and wanted me to fly there and see his show.
My initial reaction was one of enormous relief.
That’s why I haven’t heard anything,
I thought.
He’s been on tour!
I even rationalized that maybe this road trip was the reason why we had left Las Vegas so soon.
In the middle of arranging things with Joe, I suddenly heard Elvis’s voice come on the line. “I need you out here with me, Ginger,” he said, and added with a chuckle, “Get your ass out here!”
I was so glad to hear his voice that I simply said, “Okay,” even though “Get your ass out here!” wasn’t exactly the way I thought I’d be invited. It wasn’t the sort of language I was used to hearing. I was momentarily taken aback, but my excitement kicked in, and I decided to overlook it. Elvis wanted me to join him on tour!
Elvis then asked if he could speak with my mother. “I want to ease any worries she might have about you traveling to see me,” he said.
My mother and Elvis spoke for a few moments, then Elvis put Joe back on the line to finish discussing travel arrangements. Joe told me to be at Memphis Aero at 10:30 that very night.
Tonight?
Panicked, I hung up and quickly began to pack. I had no clue what to wear and felt nothing in my wardrobe was right. Thankfully, Terry came to my rescue and generously loaned me a couple of nice outfits she’d received from her pageants.
It was a brutally cold, snowy night in Memphis, and my parents were worried about me traveling in those weather conditions. Just as I finished packing, Milo High, Elvis’s personal pilot, called to say that the door to the JetStar was frozen shut. “We’re not sure we can open it,” he admitted.
He also told me they had to wait for the runways to be cleared and the plane to be deiced. After the anticipation of seeing Elvis and all of my rushing around, I sat in our den and anxiously wondered if I’d even be making the trip at all.
A few hours later, Milo finally called back. “We’re ready for you, Ginger,” he said.
My mother asked me to call when I arrived in San Francisco as I left with my father for the airport. The JetStar was waiting for me on the edge of the runway; I said good-bye to my dad and hurriedly boarded the plane, already feeling the bitter wind
I needed to be honest and up-front with Larry, so I asked him to come over that night. I knew that telling him about Elvis and my sudden change of heart would catch him as off guard as it had me, and I felt bad about that. I didn’t know if Elvis would even call me again, but I was willing to wait and see.
Larry and I talked for a while. Afterward, he still wasn’t ready to accept that I wanted to end things, and he left expressing the hope that we could sort things through.
I had gone about my normal schedule, worked at the dress shop and otherwise spent time with my family, but I hadn’t gone out in the evenings, wondering if Elvis would call. My family had been stunned by the bracelet Elvis had given me. I was so afraid of having it fall off my wrist that I didn’t wear it often; I only looked at it in my bedroom, still surprised that Elvis had given it to me. It seemed to have been something special to him and yet I hadn’t heard from him.
When Thanksgiving came and went, and all day Friday, too, without a call from Elvis, I truly felt that something wasn’t right. I must have misinterpreted what had happened between Elvis and me. I was just going to have to wake up and return to my real life.
On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, a man called our home. He said he was Elvis’s road manager, Joe Esposito, and asked to speak with me. My mood immediately lifted as Joe told me Elvis was on tour, would be in San Francisco, and wanted me to fly there and see his show.
My initial reaction was one of enormous relief.
That’s why I haven’t heard anything,
I thought.
He’s been on tour!
I even rationalized that maybe this road trip was the reason why we had left Las Vegas so soon.
In the middle of arranging things with Joe, I suddenly heard Elvis’s voice come on the line. “I need you out here with me, Ginger,” he said, and added with a chuckle, “Get your ass out here!”
I was so glad to hear his voice that I simply said, “Okay,” even though “Get your ass out here!” wasn’t exactly the way I thought I’d be invited. It wasn’t the sort of language I was used to hearing. I was momentarily taken aback, but my excitement kicked in, and I decided to overlook it. Elvis wanted me to join him on tour!
Elvis then asked if he could speak with my mother. “I want to ease any worries she might have about you traveling to see me,” he said.
My mother and Elvis spoke for a few moments, then Elvis put Joe back on the line to finish discussing travel arrangements. Joe told me to be at Memphis Aero at 10:30 that very night.
Tonight?
Panicked, I hung up and quickly began to pack. I had no clue what to wear and felt nothing in my wardrobe was right. Thankfully, Terry came to my rescue and generously loaned me a couple of nice outfits she’d received from her pageants.
It was a brutally cold, snowy night in Memphis, and my parents were worried about me traveling in those weather conditions. Just as I finished packing, Milo High, Elvis’s personal pilot, called to say that the door to the JetStar was frozen shut. “We’re not sure we can open it,” he admitted.
He also told me they had to wait for the runways to be cleared and the plane to be deiced. After the anticipation of seeing Elvis and all of my rushing around, I sat in our den and anxiously wondered if I’d even be making the trip at all.
A few hours later, Milo finally called back. “We’re ready for you, Ginger,” he said.
My mother asked me to call when I arrived in San Francisco as I left with my father for the airport. The JetStar was waiting for me on the edge of the runway; I said good-bye to my dad and hurriedly boarded the plane, already feeling the bitter wind
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