Elvis update

Oct. 29, 1957
Los Angeles

You may remember my post on Elvis Presley's concerts at the Pan-Pacific Auditorium, based on contemporary reviews by those two keen observers of popular culture: Wally George and Hedda Hopper.

I'm sorry to say I did a very poor job of capturing what actually happened and I've been too pressed for time until now to set the record straight.

In fact, Presley put on a graphic, controversial show. The performance was so raunchy that the LAPD vice squad filmed Presley's second concert for possible legal action. I'll never be able to look at the RCA dog in the same way after reading what Presley did with a statue of the company's emblem. Poor Nipper!

Here's Dick Williams' review from the Mirror, which touched off an incredible controversy and caused Presley to curb his performance. "That's the worst he's ever been," socialite Judy Spreckles sobbed after his more conservative show.

 

Sexhibitionist Elvis Presley has come at last in person to a visibly palpitating, adolescent female Los Angeles to give all the little girls' libidos the jolt of their lives.

Six thousand kids, predominantly feminine by a ratio of 10 to 1, jammed Pan-Pacific Auditorium to the rafters last night. They screamed their lungs out without letup as Elvis shook, bumped and did the grinds from one end of the stage to the other until he was a quivering heap on the floor 35 minutes later.

With anyone else, the police would have closed the show 10 minutes after it started. But not Elvis, our new national teenage hero.

If any further proof were needed that what Elvis offers is not basically music but a sex show, it was provided last night. Pandemonium took over from the time he swaggered triumphantly on stage like some ancient Caesar, resplendent in gold lame tux jacket with rhinestone lapels, until he weaved off at the end of his stint.

It was almost impossible to hear the music despite a turned-up public address system. A cloud of thumping drums, whining guitars and Elvis' hoarse shouts rose like some lascivious steaming brew from the bare stage (except for a banner plugging his next picture, "Jailhouse Rock") and filled the auditorium.

The only way I knew what Elvis was singing was by asking the youths sitting next to me. They somehow recognized every number. It started with "Heartbreak Hotel" and wound its way through all his popular record hits from "Hound Dog" to "Don't Be Cruel." There is but scant difference in any of them. Only the wild abandon varies.

Hundreds of little girls brought their flash cameras although what they expected to get sitting far back in this vast barn of a place I don't know. Constantly, amidst the high, sustained screaming, the thumping, clapping and wild shouts, innumerable flashes kept going off so that the darkness was intermittently lit as if by lightning.

The whole panorama, from the frenzy on stage to the far reaches of the jammed bleachers which seemed a mile back at the rear, looked like one of those screeching, uninhibited party rallies which the Nazis used to hold for Hitler.

Scores of police circled the auditorium and at the slightest hint of trouble plunged in ominous pairs up the aisles toward the offenders. There have been too many Elvis "concerts" which ended in riots in the past to risk any trouble.

Elvis worked with two guitarists, a drummer and a pianist plus the Jordinaires, a quartet of young harmonists who were lost in the hubbub.

He attempted almost no talking after his initial muttered, "Friends, I want to introduce yuh to the members of muh gang." Most of the time he was weaving over the stage like a horse with the blind staggers.

He wiggled, bounced, shook and ground in the style which stripteasers of the opposite sex have been using at stag shows since grandpa was a boy.

He used frequent contrived sensual gestures such as constantly hitching up his pants, fooling with his belt buckle and yanking down his coat to elicit further wild screams from his audience.

He played up to the mike stand like it was a girl in a gesture which is expressly forbidden by the police department in every burlesque show in Los Angeles County.

The wilder Elvis got in his pelvic gyrations, the more frenzied his audience became. Inevitably, he announced midway, sweat pouring down his face, that he was "all shook up."

The madness reached its peak at the finish with "Hound Dog." Elvis writhed in complete abandon, hair hanging down over his face. He got down on the floor with a huge replica of the RCA singing dog and made love to it as if it were a girl. Slowly, he rolled over and over on the floor.

The little brunette of maybe 15 sitting in front of me bent her head and covered her eyes, whether with embarrassment, fright, sickness or excitement, I know not.

I do know this is corruption of the innocent on a scale such as I have never witnessed before. For these are children to whom Elvis appeals, preconditioned, curious adolescents, who are artificially and unhealthfully stimulated. Their reactions would shock many a parent if he or she could see this display. They are not adults who can take his crudities and laugh or shrug them off.

The boy next to me, bent forward on his seat taking it all in, turned briefly to me between numbers. "He's great," he enthused. "He's simply great, isn't he?"

The same lesson in pornography will be repeated tonight, barring an interruption by the Police Department, which is unlikely, in view of the fact that they might have a riot on their hands.

Elvis live!

 

Oct. 29, 1957
Los Angeles

He came out of nowhere, barely a blip on the nation's radar in 1955 (according to Proquest, he wasn't mentioned even once in The Times that year). But by 1957, he was an unstoppable sensation.

So when Elvis Presley performed his first live concert in Los Angeles at the Pan-Pacific Auditorium, The Times carried two reviews, perhaps sensing a pivotal moment in American pop music.

Then again, maybe not. One review was by Hollywood gossip columnist Hedda Hopper, by then (Lord help me) 67 years old and accustomed to dealing with pliant movie stars hungry for good press.* The other review was by (Lord help me) George Walter Pearch, a.k.a. Wally George, 25, whose column, titled "Strictly off the Record" and then "Court of Records," appeared in The Times from 1957 to 1961 and heavily favored 1940s big band music.

The Times clips from the 1950s are a feast of Elvis trivia (What famous movie star was booted off the university track team because he refused to trim his Elvis-like sideburns? What famous Presley movie was briefly titled "Treat Me Nice"?).

The 1957 stories are especially illuminating as to how unaware people were that Presley's career was merely beginning. He was compared to faded singers like Frankie Laine and frequently came out second best to singers promoted as his rivals: Pat Boone and Ricky Nelson.

But all those citations (including ads, news stories and TV listings, Presley's name appeared in the paper 163 times in 1956 and 286 times in 1957, according to Proquest) are far beyond the limits of this blog. So I'll stick to the concert.

Unfortunately, The Times apparently didn't send a photographer, so we have no pictures of what went on.

Before the performance, Presley conducted a news conference before a fairly hostile group of reporters in a back room of the Pan-Pacific. He was wearing a black shirt, gold evening jacket and a rhinestone belt, according to George.

Hopper and George noted that Presley was polite. Hopper called him "young, likable, wanting to please."

"He was a pleasant, mild-mannered person who might have been any other 22-year-old young man," George wrote. "He was quiet, polite, somewhat shy and made sure to sprinkle in plenty of 'sirs' when he answered newsmen."

Here's the Q&A, reconstructed from George's articles:

Q: Unknown.
A: "I don't sing. I yell."

Q: Do you intend to change your presentation due to national criticism?
A: "I can't. It's all I can do."

Q: When will you write more songs?
A: "That's all a hoax. I can't even read music."

Q: What about your guitar?
A: "Can't play it--use it as a brace."

Q: "What's your emotional power over women?" (Asked by a female reporter).
A: "Gosh..." replied Elvis, whispering something inaudible into a mike provided for the occasion.

Q: "Read this!" snapped another reporter, shoving a magazine article into Elvis' hands. It was an article written supposedly by Frank Sinatra attacking the institution of rock 'n' roll music.
A: "I admire the man, he has a right to his own opinions," carefully replied the blackshirted Elvis.
Q: "That's all you have to say?"
A: "You can't knock success."

Q: Are you considering marriage?
A: No, he's enjoying playing the field too much.

Q: How long do you intend to wear your 2-inch sideburns?
A: Until Uncle Sam makes him shave them off, perhaps soon. He's 1-A.

Q: How much money are you making?
A: Over $1 million a year, he's not sure of the exact figures.

Q: What do you think of rock 'n' roll?
A: "It's the greatest ever, mainly because it's all I can do!"

For the statisticians among the Daily Mirror readers, Presley performed for 50 minutes and sang 18 "of his biggest hits," including "Heartbreak Hotel" and "Jailhouse Rock." The audience was estimated at 9,000.

Unfortunately, not a note could be heard because of the shrieking audience, according to Hopper as well as George, who also blamed a "frightfully poor audio system."

"The screams came in a sort of rhythm like a great storm at sea so you couldn't hear a word he was singing," Hopper wrote.

"It wasn't an audience of just kids; whole families were there, nice people. Dozens of policemen surrounded the stage but turned their backs on Elvis to watch the audience and see that no one moved. They were told if they got up or walked down the aisle toward Elvis the show would be over."

"He smiled and the crowd screamed," George wrote. "He nodded his head and they made as if to overrun the stage. The musical group behind him struck a chord and Elvis opened his mouth as if to sing--nothing was heard."

"Elvis rolled over and over on the floor, still clutching the mike," Hopper said. "but his performance isn't sickness. He knew what he was doing.... You felt he was mentally saying to himself: 'Do you know an easier way of making a million a year?' "

She added: "In former days police would have been looking at the performance [instead of watching the crowd]. I've seen performers dragged off to jail for less."

And after it was all said and done, it sounds as if Hopper and George may have warmed to Presley:

Hopper wrote: "Elvis' audience got the emotional workout of their lives and screamed their undying love for the greatest phenomenon I've seen in this century."

After coming to Presley's defense against enraged critics, George said: "Well, we don't particularly like his style either. But after observing him closely at a press conference we feel that, as a person, he's not too bad a kid."

 

I would like to salute the first Elvis impersonator apparently recorded in The Times: A student dressed up like Elvis caused a riot at Corona High School on March 6, 1957, during the school's weekly assembly. Students began shrieking "We want Elvis!" The Times said, forcing Dean of Boys Wayne Taylor to recruit every male teacher to quiet the crowd.

The student's name? Tony Colosimo. Wherever you are, Tony, here's to you!

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*California death records list her date of birth as June 2, 1890.

You're wondering about those trivia questions. Surely there are Elvis fans out there who know the answers.

Prisoner's dream

 

Aug. 16, 1957
Santa Monica

We will never know what really happened on the night ad executive Guy F. Roberts was shot to death in a Santa Monica motel room because everyone involved was lying to cover up the truth and--except for the detectives who coerced a phony confession--wildly drunk.

The newspapers finally published an account that was fairly factual, but only years after a young man was wrongly convicted in the killing. I would like to think that at least some good came out of all the injustice.

The main characters are:

• Nina C. Miles, who at the age of 37 was about to make Roberts her seventh husband. She and Roberts were living in the motel at 2801 Santa Monica Blvd. where the killing occurred. Nina had moved in with the victim two weeks earlier after living for several years with one of his friends, William "Billy" Miles.  Between the killing and the trial, she and William got married in Tijuana. 

• Charles L. Guy III, Nina's son by her first husband, who had already served time for drunk driving. Although his mother had moved out, Charles was still living with William at 419 Hill St., Ocean Park.

• Charles L. Guy Jr., Nina's first husband, a prosecutor in Dunn, N.C., who had been estranged from his son for many years.
  

• An unidentified investigator with the Santa Monica Police Department, most likely Detective Ward Bell or Robert Holborow, who obtained a coerced confession.

Here's what happened: Although she has been living with Roberts for two weeks and plans to marry him, Nina and Charles conclude an evening of bar-hopping by going to the cocktail lounge where William plays the piano, having left Roberts asleep in the motel room.

Charles and William argue and Charles leaves in Roberts' car. When William finishes his set at 12:30 a.m., he and Nina go to his home and have more drinks. Nina finally leaves by taxi but stops along the way to have another drink.

About 2 a.m. she finally returns to the motel room and gets some money off the top of the dresser to pay the cabdriver. She comes back, sits down on the bed and only then notices that the room has been ransacked, that there's blood everywhere and that Roberts has been killed with a shotgun blast that tore away the left side of his face.

"Men's and women's clothing was strewn about the room," the Mirror said. "Bureau drawers were opened and their contents scattered, indicating that they had been ransacked. Blood was spattered about the room. A trail of it led to the bathroom where an attempt had been made by the murderer to clean up. Tooth powder was spilled on the floor and wash basin."

"Detectives said there was 'considerable evidence' of a drinking party. Beer cans and a whiskey bottle and glasses were found in the rubbish can and sink."

Santa Monica police obtained a confession from Charles by warning him that if he didn't admit killing Roberts, they would charge his mother.

"I went back to the motel and had a couple more drinks," Charles said in confessing to the crime. "Roberts was still sleeping. The next thing I knew I went out to get a shotgun from the car. Then all I can remember is I saw blood on Roberts. I don't actually remember any shooting, but it must have been me.

"I respected Roberts more than my real father. Roberts and I were the best of friends and I was all for his marrying my mother. The reason I went with my mother was to protect her from Miles. He had broken her nose once and I didn't know what he would do when she told him she was going to marry Roberts."

According to Santa Monica Police Detective Ward Bell, Charles said: "I don't know why I did it. I was very fond of him."

According to Santa Monica Police Detective Robert Holborow, Charles said: "I don't understand why I killed him. It should have been [William] Miles."

Because it doesn't make much sense for anybody to kill someone they respect rather than someone they dislike, Nina offered incriminating testimony about her son:

According to Nina, Charles said: "Gee, mom, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it." She also told reporters: "It all adds up. I know who did it. But I can't say. I think Sonny [her son] had something to do with it. He's all fouled up."

Charles' father was granted permission to come to Los Angeles to handle his son's defense. After two days of arguments, the judge had ruled that Charles' coerced confession was inadmissible, but even so, Detective Holborow testified that during a police interrogation, Charles had admitted killing Roberts. The judge declared a mistrial.

In his second trial, Charles said he left the bar after arguing with William because he was upset with his mother for continuing to see her old boyfriend while she planned to marry Roberts.

"She would write on the mirror at Mr. Miles' house, 'I love you' and then she'd go up to Mr. Roberts' place and write the same thing on the mirror. It was a mess," Charles testified. William had repeatedly rambled on about "teaching Roberts a lesson," Charles said, adding that William claimed Roberts had also "tried to steal one of his former wives."

Jurors found Charles guilty of involuntary manslaughter in December 1957. While conceding that his son would probably serve prison time, Charles Guy Jr. said he hoped to gain custody of his son upon his release and planned to take him back to North Carolina.

"That's fine with me, Dad," Charles said. "That's the day I'll be looking forward to."

Although she was the main witness for the prosecution, Nina did not attend the reading of the verdict against her son. She told reporters: "I'm heartbroken. I know Sonny is guilty but I know he wasn't in his right mind. I don't blame Sonny for what he said [about her] during the trial. I know he had to do it."

In 1963, Paul Coates wrote about what Nina told him as he was covering the trials:

Before the case went to court, she told me a curious, rather chilling thing. 

"I'd like to help my son," she said, "But I can't do it. I don't dare."

I asked her what she meant.  

"After it happened," she explained, "I talked to my family in North Carolina. I was warned that if the family name was dragged into the trial, I'd have my conscience to live with for the rest of my life. 

"I'm too afraid of my father to cross him," Mrs. Miles added. "Even if it would help my own son. It's always been that way."

Coates also quoted a letter Charles had received from his father:

"God willing, you someday will come home here. People will welcome you and you can make the kind of name that when you marry will be carried proudly by your children, just as I am proud that you carry my name. I will never be ashamed that you are my son and that I named you after myself and your grandfather. He said you would come back someday to the people who really love you. And believe me, you will."

While he was being held at Vacaville, Charles recorded some songs. They were released by Capitol Records on the album "The Prisoner's Dream."

Time magazine said  he had the power "of a young, white Leadbelly."

Charles was released from prison in 1963 and returned to North Carolina. Aside from a single, he apparently never made any more recordings. Long out of print, reissues of "The Prisoner's Dream" are available from specialty houses.

Nina C. Miles, who attempted suicide in 1958, died May 2, 1977, at the age of 57.

The family name was presumably protected to her father's satisfaction.

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