Choosing a Chariot to Carry You Home

Gary Presley and son Eric, front and center (better known as Herkimer and Cecil)

 

 

As I type these words I am sitting on a hotel balcony in Branson, Mo., courtesy of Joe and Terry, my globetrotting, timeshare-owning Australian kin. The setting sun is coloring two thin rows of clouds a brilliant pink as it dips below the treeline in the west. Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Pink sky at night? Don't know about that sailor, but there are definitely no complaints from me as the sun disappears on this almost achingly beautiful fall day.

 

As I walked around the parking lot earlier today it seems every State and Canada has sent a delegation to Branson this weekend. And that's not counting our car which could and should sport an "AUSSIES ON BOARD" bumper sticker. Three cars from Ontario joined cars from New Hampshire, Virginia, Florida, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Texas, Illinois, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas, Tennessee, South Dakota, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Indiana, Louisiana, Michigan, Ohio and Kansas. A car from Arizona bore a license plate that said "FORMER POW". If John McCain is missing I think I may know where he is. Heck, there was even a sprinkling of cars with Missouri plates on the lot.

 

On Friday night we introduced Joe & Terry to Branson's own Herkimer and Cecil at Presley's Country Jubilee.   Paul Harvey referred to the Presley's as "Founders of Branson's entertainment phenomenon."  Gary Presley graduated from Springfield's Hillcrest High School a year ahead of me.  His wife Patty was my age and had the misfortune to sit in front of me in algebra.  

 

 

A crowd of predominantly senior citizens packed Presley's Theater on Friday.  Bumper-to-bumper traffic filled the streets in all directions as we navigated the short distance from our hotel to the theater.  Once inside I purchased some glazed almonds and pecans for Joe & Terry to sample and we headed to our seats.  They had traveled 9500 miles to see the show.  I figured the least I could do was spring for some nuts.  As we waited, busloads of senior citizens from as far away as the east coast filed in and filled the seats in front of us.  One of the first songs the Presley's performed Saturday evening was "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot (comin' for to carry me home)."  Later, as Gary played "Wipe Out" on his electric guitar, an old guy on the third row had a medical emergency and was taken from the theater.  As he left I wondered if the chariot really HAD come for him.

 

 

After the show I introduced cousins Joe and Terry to Gary Presley.  In 1967,  my Dad sold Gary a Volkswagon to drive back and forth from his day job in Springfield to his night job entertaining ever-growing crowds in the then-brand new Presley Theater on Highway 76, the first theater on what is now "the Branson Strip".   Whenever I see Gary he always asks about my dad and mentions the VW he purchased brand new from him for a whopping $2000 in 1967.  This time a big smile came to his face as he mentioned that VW.  "I just bought another red 1967 VW just like your dad sold me!" he said.

 

Good for him!

That "other chariot" will get here soon enough for the Classes of '65 and '66.

 

1967 VW Beetle