A baby was born in Tupelo, MS and no one had any idea within two decades his name would be known around the world.  Of course the baby was Elvis Presley.

Growing up in the late 50’s I was never much of an Elvis fan.  Roy Orbison, Buddy Holly, Jerry Lee Lewis and Motown groups got more of my attention.  But as the years have rolled by, I’ve grown to enjoy the singing of Elvis more and more and have always been fascinated at how a poor kid from a shotgun house in northeast Mississippi became who he did.

My only CD player is in my old car.  You go in the trunk and load six discs at once.  One of the many scattered on the floor bed is a gospel album that Elvis made years ago.

Here is my favorite from it.

It’s not uncommon for me to mash the repeat button and listen to this song over and over.  And always I think about the little primitive Baptist church on the Covington-Butler County line were my four grandparents, and many other kin, sleep eternally in Bushfield cemetary out behind the church.

I can never relate to the fame and fortune Elvis obtained.  If I can carry a tune, no one has ever mentioned it to me.  But I can relate to his roots and the soul that comes through this American favorite.