What is my role, my duty, my goal, amidst this bewildering breathtaking
drama in which I find myself involved?
The life and death of his stillborn twin
brother, Jesse Garon, was a precious mystery to Elvis, an indelible
part of his life. But then, Elvis was always intrigued by the mystery
that lay at the heart of all existence.
When it came to Jesse Garon, he told me
that as a child he would talk about him to anyone who would listen. “I
have a brother!” he announced proudly, telling everyone how close they
were, and how they talked together all the time. At night as he lay in
his bed, in the dark and silence of his room, he would have special
conversations with Jesse, and later tell people what his brother had
said to him.
I knew Elvis had a stillborn twin
brother; my own younger twin sisters had told me after they read a story
about him in a movie magazine. It was only after we met in April of
1964, that I came to realize how deeply Elvis had been affected by this
unfulfilled relationship.
“I’ll tell ya Larry, being a twin has
always been a mystery for me. I mean, we were in our mother’s womb
together, so why was he born dead and not me? He never even got his
chance to live. Think about it, why me? Why was I the one that was
chosen? An’ I’ve always wondered what would’ve been if he had lived, I
really have. These kinds of questions tear my head up. There’s got to be
reasons for all this.”
This was our very first conversation. I
was a virtual stranger, yet for some reason Elvis felt that he wanted to
bare his soul about Jesse Garon. I learned over the years that this
was one aspect of his life he rarely if ever spoke about. But on this
particular afternoon he opened the floodgates freely, revealing
something so intimate that it was obvious that he was deeply burdened by
the notion that he might have survived at the expense of his twin.
Elvis sat in silence for a moment with
his eyes fixed on the ground, then looked up at me. “Larry, listen, I’m
going to tell you something, and it might even sound strange, but it’s
something I’ve secretly thought about before. Maybe, maybe it was me.
Maybe it was something I did, ya know? Who knows, maybe when we were in
the womb together we were fighting like Jacob and his twin like it says
in the Bible. Man that story always stuck with me. Maybe I was like
Jacob who tried to stop his brother from being born first. Hey, I’m
just saying…anything’s possible.”
I learned so much about Elvis that first
afternoon; his freedom of expression, his willingness to explore, and
most of all his vulnerability. And I’ve always felt that all during
his life he reached out for the brother he never had the chance to know;
the seed was always there. He called us his “family.” Yet at all times,
even when he felt betrayed, he felt a deep concern for the very ones
who hurt him most. And in a curious way the guys were a composite of his
twin – but never really a replacement.
It wasn’t until 1977, just a few months
before Elvis’ death that I heard him bring up Jesse after all those
years. Elvis was so open; he loved to talk about anything under the
sun. From sex, politics or religion, to intimate details about family,
friends, wives, girl friends, co-workers and private thoughts and
feelings about his career and his own life, nothing was out of bounds.
But I can’t remember his ever really talking about Jesse Garon…not until
one day in the spring while we were on tour. I entered his room while
he was still in bed.
“Lawrence”, Elvis declared excitedly,
“You won’t believe the dream I just had. Man, it was so real. An’ I
can’t remember dreaming about my brother Jesse Garon since I was a
little kid. But there we were together – on stage. Seemed like
thousands of people in the audience, and they were screaming at us. It
was wild! We were dressed alike, wearing identical white jumpsuits, and
we were both playing matching guitars slung around our shoulders. .
There were two blue spotlights, one shining on him, one on me. An’ I
kept looking at him, and man, he was the spitting image of me.
I’ll tell you something else Lawrence…” Elvis grinned. “Jesse had a way better voice than me.”
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