Leroy’s Story

Spent last night not just reminiscing with my Mom, but actually writing down details of much of her story. It’s worth its own post one day soon.

Part of her story is Leroy’s story. I write about him a post or two ago and told you I would share more, so here it is. Let me cut to the chase …

We were living here in Rockwall, Texas in August of 1977. As a matter of fact, the house we last lived in on a main street into the town square was just torn down a day or two ago. Monday night we drove by but it was too dark for pictures. Tuesday afternoon we drove by and it’s now a pile of rubble. Making room for a wider street.

Anyway, I think it was August 17, 1977 when I was at home and heard the news that Elvis Presley had died. I ran down the street to The Brown Derby, a fast food restaurant my Mom was managing, to tell her. I had NO IDEA what was to come.

She was visibly upset, but I had no idea why. It was a little weird to me how upset she was at the news. Leroy’s story unfolds.

We were always told that my Dad was not Leroy’s real father. His birth father was apparently someone Mom had a short relationship with. Turns out that was true. What we were never told was who the person was … until the day Elvis died.

That’s right … turns out that Mom was a night club singer in Frankfurt, Germany while Elvis was stationed there and the two hooked up. Just after Elvis left Germany, Mom found out she was pregnant with Leroy.

When Elvis died, a friend who knew my Mom in Germany and knew the story called Mom and coerced her into telling my brother that Elvis was his real father. The Midnight Globe got hold of the story and sent Mom and Leroy to Graceland to do a story on them.

I know … hard to believe. But there are a few people in Mom’s life who attest to it. Here is a picture of them both … you be the judge …


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