Inside Graceland: Elvis' Maid Remembers

INSIDE GRACELAND

Elvis’ Maid Remembers

Nancy B. Rooks

As told to Jim Cox

Copyright © 2005 by Nancy B. Rooks.

Back Cover Photograph: Nancy Rooks and Jim Cox in front of Graceland.

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C
ONTENTS

INTRODUCTION
 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
 

“MR. ELVIS DOESN’T LIVE LIKE MOST PEOPLE”
 

“LEARNING MY WAY AROUND”
 

“LISTENING AND LEARNING”
 

MEMORIES
 

LISA MARIE
 

“LORD, PLEASE SAVE MY BOY!”
 

THE NEXT DAY
 

“WHAT A SAD DAY!”
 

“HOME FOR THE LAST TIME”
 

“LIFE AFTER ELVIS”
 

INTRODUCTION
 

El
vis Presley. The name says it all. To his millions of fans
ar
ound the world, that name conjures up excitement, awe, admiration, devotion, and love.

Today, many years after his death, people still hunger for insights into his life. He touched the world in so many ways, and influenced us beyond just the music. Who was he and what was he really like?

Hundreds of books have been written trying to answer those questions.

Several of them have been truthful, many of them spiteful, a few exaggerated, and some just plain wrong. It’s amazing how many people suddenly became “Elvis Experts” when they realized there may be money to be made in writing about him.

My intention in writing this book is very straightforward. I want to share, quite simply, what it was like for me to work for him as his maid and cook. To share the everyday experiences of being around him, of seeing him from my unique perspective in his unguarded moments, and getting to know him as only someone in that position could.

I want to show what it was really like “Inside Graceland.”

Nancy Rooks

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
 

I
would like to express my appreciation to the following
p
eople who assisted me in preparing this book.

First, I would like to thank Jim Cox for making it possible. If it had not been for him, it would have taken me a lot longer. I greatly appreciate the number of trips he made to Memphis, along with the trips we made to Graceland together. I had kept notes from my years at Graceland, and he helped refresh my memories of all those wonderful years. Through talking to him over the phone, and meeting him in person, we have become very good friends.

I would also like to thank his wife, Susan, for putting up with our numerous phone calls, and his brother, John, for his input.

Thanks also to George Coleman, Elvis’ electrician at Graceland from 1957 to 1982, for his help. He was a good friend and co-worker, as well as a very nice person. He also helped save me from what could have been an expensive accident at Graceland.

Thanks also to everyone who helped me in writing this book.

“MR. ELVIS DOESN’T LIVE LIKE MOST PEOPLE”
 

Ve
ry few people have seen the King of Rock & Roll as I
wa
s privileged to have seen him. He was considered to be a legend and superstar by the world, and he was truly both. But to those of us who knew him as a person, as well as a friend, he was so much more. He was, in so many ways, a very kind, giving, and humble human being.

My life with Elvis began in May, 1967. Being out of work and needing a job, I applied to the local Memphis Employment Office on Cleveland Street. I was looking for a job as a housekeeper and was working with an employment counselor by the name of Mrs. Ghost.

While working around the house one morning the phone rang. It was Mrs. Ghost.

“Guess who you’re going to be working for?” she asked, with a hint of excitement in her voice.

“Who?” I nonchalantly asked.

“Elvis!” she exclaimed.

And I asked what was probably the most laughable question anyone in Memphis could have asked: “Elvis WHO?”

Though I couldn’t see her face at the other end of the phone line, I’m sure she must have been rolling her eyes as she patiently replied, “You know, Elvis PRESLEY, the MOVIE STAR!”

“Oh, THAT ELVIS!”

I don’t think that what she was saying to me was really sinking in. It was like, even though I heard what she was saying, I still couldn’t quite bring myself to believe it.

She went on to explain that she had received a call from Dee Presley, the wife of Elvis’ father, Vernon, and that they needed a housekeeper to work at Elvis’ estate, Graceland, in the southern part of town.

She told me that she felt I would meet the needs of what they were looking for, because of my background, and that they wanted me to come to work for them based on the strength of her recommendation. She was offering me the job, if I wanted it, without them having to interview me first.

It took a minute for it to sink in that I was being offered a job with one of the most famous names in the history of the entertainment industry! (I was, of course, very familiar with the name Elvis Presley, but I did not know that much about him, other than the fact that he was a mega-star and lived in Memphis and was VERY famous!)

I had no idea, talking to Mrs. Ghost on the telephone that day, how much my life was about to change.

Without any hesitation I accepted the job over the phone and was instructed to report to work the next morning at 8am sharp at Elvis’ house.

As if she needed to tell me, she emphasized, “Whatever you do, now, make sure that you’re not late. The Presley’s really put a lot of stock in punctuality.”

She had given me directions to Graceland, or “the mansion” as I would come to know it.

She told me to “Keep driving south on Hwy. 51 until you see the big white house on the top of the hill. It’s on the left, and has a stone wall around it and iron gates at the front, with giant musical notes on them. It’s a beautiful house.” “Trust me”, she said, “You can’t miss it!”

“That shouldn’t be too hard to spot,” I thought.

To be sure I knew exactly where I was going the next morning, and to ensure that I would be there on time, I had my husband drive me out to find Graceland that night. Just as I’d been told, it wasn’t hard to find.

It was all lit up and looked so beautiful at night. It was a pleasant night, and there were a lot of stars in the sky. The long driveway had lights leading up to the house. It seemed as if every light was on, and my husband commented how pretty the house looked framed against the night sky. A gentle breeze was causing the tops of the massive trees to sway, giving an almost surreal look to the entire property.

As we sat in our car on the highway and looked up at that imposing house, sitting high on the hill, it began to dawn on me that I was about to begin working for a real movie star! Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever imagined that.

As we drove home that night, I realized I was beginning to feel a little excited at the prospect of working for someone so famous.

I found it a little more difficult than usual getting to sleep that night, thinking of what lay ahead. I had set the alarm clock a little earlier than usual, and had all my things laid out and ready to go. I wanted to make sure I made a good first impression. I remembered what Mrs. Ghost had said about punctuality.

Arriving several minutes before 8am the next morning, May 9th, I was more than ready to start my new job.

As I approached those famous gates I must admit to being more than a little apprehensive. Questions raced through my mind. What kind of man would Elvis be? How would he be to work for? What if he didn’t like me, or worse, what if he didn’t like how I did my job? Everyone feels a little apprehensive starting a new job, but when you’re going to work for one of the world’s most famous celebrities, I think the stakes are a little higher than normal. I was glad, that morning, that we had driven out the night before, so I felt comfortable knowing exactly where I was going.

I had not even thought about it before, but, when I pulled up to the front gate, I was aware of several fans milling around outside. They looked at me, whispering among themselves, as if I must be someone important, to be driving onto the grounds of Graceland. Suddenly, I had a horrible thought. What if Ms. Ghost had not let them know I was coming. In front of those people watching me, what if I was told by the guard that I wasn’t allowed to go in, and would have to back up and leave. How humiliating that would be.

My fears were quickly put to rest. The guard came over to me, asked my name, and then, after checking his clipboard, said, “Well, welcome aboard. We’re glad you’re here.” He motioned me through the gates with a smile.

With a sense of great relief, I then drove onto the grounds of Graceland for the first time.

As instructed by the guard, I drove up the driveway and continued on around the left drive, to the back of the house.

I drove under the beautiful tall trees lining the long driveway, parked near the carport, and got out. My ordinary car paled in comparison to some of the beautiful luxury cars parked under the carport, including that famous pink and white Cadillac.

As I was getting out of my car, I was met by Daisy, one of the cooks at Graceland. The guard at the front gate had alerted her that the new maid had arrived, and she had been watching for me.

Daisy, friendly and easy-going, introduced herself and told me, after some small talk, to follow her into the house where she would introduce me to some of the Presley family. I was impressed with the way she looked. She was wearing a neatly starched white service dress, with a matching white apron.

She led me through the carport, giving me a closer look at the vehicles parked there. I was amazed at the number, and variety, of what was parked around the carport area. Not only were there a number of expensive cars, but there were motorcycles, a jeep, several go-carts, and even a few snowmobiles as well. I remember thinking to myself that it looked like a high end used car lot.

Going through a back door, we went into a room I would later call the “jungle room”, then, through a small hallway leading under a stairway, and into a first floor bedroom at the end of the main hallway. Everything looked so shiny and clean, but at the same time had the look and feel of comfort. I had never been inside a movie star’s home before.

I’m not sure what I had expected, but my first impression of Graceland was that it was a very nice, comfortable and well-maintained home. It was an inviting place, and I felt a sense of warmth as soon as I walked in.

Inside the bedroom I was introduced, first, to Elvis’ Aunt Delta, and then to Minnie Mae, Elvis’ paternal grandmother, whose bedroom we were standing in. I would soon discover that Minnie Mae was known affectionately by family, friends and staff alike as “Dodger”. It was a nickname given to her by Elvis many years before. (Though several versions were given over the years as to the origin of that nickname, the most logical, and oft repeated, story seemed to involve her having moved, or ‘dodged’, very quickly out of the way to avoid a baseball that Elvis had mistakenly thrown in her direction when he was younger.)

“Aunt Delta”, as I would come to call her, was dressed in a brightly flowered blouse and slacks. She was standing at the foot of a large bed, and next to a rocking chair placed right inside the bedroom door. Dodger, dressed immaculately in a pretty dark dress, rose from the rocking chair as Daisy and I walked into the room. Over the years I would routinely call her by several different names, including Dodger, Minnie Mae, Ms. Minnie, and Grandma.

“So, you’re the new maid?”, Dodger asked, as she stuck out her thin but steady hand to greet me. “Well, we’re glad you’re here.”

With that, the warmth of the Presley family that I would come to love began.

We exchanged the usual pleasantries and proceeded with some small talk about how beautiful the house was. It was obvious from talking with both of them that they felt a sense of pride in living there. I immediately felt comfortable with both of them, and, apparently, they felt the same way.

Dodger’s bedroom was large and spacious. Located on the back of the house, it had windows on two walls, allowing sunshine to stream into the room. In addition to the large bed and rocking chair, she also had a piano, two nightstands, a dresser, a chest of drawers, and a TV, which was almost always turned on. The room was a light color with purple accents and two wall sconces, one over each side of the bed. She had her own full bath and a small closet as well. It was a very warm, comfortable and inviting, room. It reflected her personality very well.

I was surveying the room as we talked and my eyes came to rest on a small framed picture of Elvis, sitting on the dresser. I had never before noticed how truly handsome he was. I almost had to pinch myself to make sure this was really happening, and that I was really going to be working for him and his family.

After several minutes, Aunt Delta took me back into the kitchen and said, “We really don’t expect much around here. Just do what you think needs to be done to keep the house looking good.”

She went on to explain that my primary responsibilities would be dusting, vacuuming, emptying trash, setting the table as needed as well as clearing it. In general, she went on, just helping to keep the house clean and, most importantly, doing whatever Elvis wanted done.

As she was finishing up with her little orientation to me a man came through the back door. Walking up to me he stuck his hand out and said, “Hi, I’m Vernon Presley,” and then with a grin, and in a slow southern drawl added, “At least what’s left of him. You must be the new maid.” I knew without being told that he had to be Elvis’ father. There was a rugged handsomeness about him.

“Yes sir, I am. I’m Nancy Rooks.” (I got the same friendly reception from him that I’d gotten from Aunt Delta and Dodger.)

“Well,” he continued, “Delta will show you what’s expected of you. Just do whatever you see that needs to be done,” he said, echoing what Aunt Delta had previously told me.

He then turned to Daisy and, with a grin on his face, did what he would do many times to me over the next 12 years. He walked up behind her, quickly snapping the fingers on his right hand, and started saying, “What ya’ got, what ya’ got?” He was hungry and, as was often the case, one of the cooks would have baked something fresh and that was his way of asking what was available for him to snack on.

It became an endearing trait, over time, as I would suddenly hear his fingers snapping rapidly behind me, and, “What ya’ got, what ya’ got?” being whispered into my ear.

With the formalities out of the way, I got a quick tour of the downstairs area of the house by Daisy. She took me into the front of the house and showed me the dining room, which was across the foyer from the living room, which in turn led into a small music room. The beautiful piano sitting in the middle of the music room was a reminder of whose house we were in. From there, we went through the dining room and into the kitchen, where she showed me where things were kept.

Once inside the kitchen, she showed me Aunt Delta’s bedroom, located at the end of the kitchen, after which we then toured what had been a garage, now known as the annex. It held small bedrooms and a living room-like area. She told me that I would learn my way around the basement and upstairs areas later.

With the tour out of the way, I started to work. Having been a maid before, I pretty much knew what was expected of me.

I remember that I started working first in the jungle room. It was such a beautiful room and the light streaming in the large picture windows made it feel very comfortable. I found a dust cloth and polish and proceeded to dust and polish all the furniture in the room, and then moved on to the other rooms on the first floor. After several hours of dusting, I spent several more hours vacuuming, emptying trash, and then generally straightening up anything that looked as if it was out of place.

I quickly felt very comfortable and at home, as several people came and went and acted as if I’d been working there for some time. Daisy also helped make me feel right at home, making sure I knew where everything was that I needed. Even though a movie star lived there, it was still run just like any other house, having the same needs which had to be met. I would come to realize that I needed to do essentially the same thing to keep it clean as I did at my own house. It was just much bigger.