Tales of Rock – Pajama Party with Elvis!

Barbara Hearn, a dark-haired Memphis beauty he had known casually for years, was one of the young women he dated that year. Decades later, Barbara still spoke fondly of their time together, despite the heavy competition for Elvis’ attention. “My husband tells everybody that Elvis and I dated steadily for a year. And I say, ‘No. I dated him steadily for a year. He didn’t date anybody steadily for more than 15 minutes.’”

Barbara never asked him about all the other women in his life, but she suspected that he divided them into “good girls” and “road girls,” the latter of whom were fair game and didn’t mean anything beyond the moment. “He was very, very respectful to women. If you could see how he treated me, my mother, his own mom, his grandmother—we were people he cared about. The ones who went backstage were in a different category. They were fans.”

ON APRIL 15, 1956, Elvis, billed as “the Nation’s Only Atomic-Powered Singer,” played the Municipal Auditorium in San Antonio. There to meet him was Kay Wheeler, the virginal 17-year-old president of the first national Elvis Presley fan club. Kay was in something of a teenage haze. A year earlier, she hadn’t even been able to find a picture of Elvis. But by early 1956, working from her Dallas home and aided by two sisters, she had built the club into more than 20,000 members, each of whom received a large autographed photo of Elvis, a “Presley pink” membership card, and a four-page monthly newsletter. Kay was as atomic-powered as the object of her affections, and only Col. Tom Parker, Elvis’ manager, matched her devotion and energy in promoting Elvis into a major heartthrob.

At the beginning of April, Kay had received a letter from Parker’s secretary telling her that Elvis would be on tour in Texas, and inviting her to attend the kickoff show in San Antonio. When the big day came, she chose a clinging sheath dress, dangly pearl earrings, and a pair of spike heels. Then she boarded a Greyhound bus for a 270-mile ride that would mark her first trip away from home. When she arrived at the auditorium, she flashed a telegram from Col. Parker, and was waved through by a guard. Backstage, Parker’s second in command, Tom Diskin, pointed to an unmarked door and said, “Elvis is in his dressing room. Just go on in.”

Elvis was sitting in front of a mirror, smoothing down his dark-blond ducktail, and he turned to look over his shoulder at her. Kay’s knees went wobbly. “Hi, Elvis,” she managed. “I’m Kay Wheeler, the president of your fan club.” “My fan club president?” he asked. He seemed surprised. Kay thought he knew she was coming, but there wasn’t time to think about that now, because the 21-year-old singer had on a blue satin shirt that matched his eyes, and there was a mischievous grin on his face. “If any man ever stepped out of a dream,” she thought, “it was Elvis Presley.”

Elvis stood and walked toward her, staring. The room began swirling, but she could see he was still smiling, and she thought he was about to say something. Instead, he put his hands on her shoulders, and then began following her curves. He slid his hands up over her hips, then moved his fingers to her waist, and nearly up to her breasts. Finally, he spoke: “Is all this really you?”

“He pretty much groped me,” she recalls. “I was overwhelmed. He came on like Godzilla.”

Kay stepped back until his hands dropped away, and then they were both embarrassed. “Gee,” she murmured. Just about then, the door opened, and in came a gaggle of reporters to ask him questions. Kay stood back and watched. Then, in the middle of the interview, Elvis motioned for her to come over. Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed her, turned her around, and pulled her toward him until her back was pressed up against him. He folded her into his arms and kissed the side of her face as photographers snapped away. Kay couldn’t believe what was happening. “He should have been under freaking arrest. He’s feeling me up in that picture. Those are some of the most blatantly sensual poses that I’ve ever seen him in with a girl.”

Just before going onstage, he kissed Kay passionately, pushing against her in a way no boy had done before. Then he launched into the first of two shows before 6,000 deafening fans.

ALREADY, ELVIS’ REPUTATION as a sex symbol was becoming a burden. Some years later, in the 1960s, he would tell Larry Geller, a member of his entourage, that in the early days of his fame he had relations with so many women that he was hospitalized for exhaustion. Whether that was the reason behind a 1955 hospital visit in Jacksonville, Fla., isn’t known. But according to Geller, the experience chastened Elvis. Elvis’ sex-god label also seemed to hamper him psychologically. Women assumed, from his image and his movements onstage, that he was a lover of legendary proportions. But he was insecure about his sexual prowess, fearing that he might not measure up in bed to women’s expectations. This was a factor is his gravitation toward 13- and 14-year-old girls. Young teens were likely to be satisfied simply to make out—precisely where Elvis felt most at ease.

Sometime in the fall of 1956, Elvis’ father, Vernon, was visiting a Memphis Oldsmobile dealership where the family often had their cars repaired, when the owner, a man named Mowel, asked if his 14-year-old daughter, Gloria, could meet Elvis. Vernon Presley said that was ?ne, and for Gloria to come on over anytime.

On Oct. 11, Gloria showed up at the tidy one-story ranch house on Audubon Drive that Elvis had bought for his family in the spring. She was shocked to see Elvis answer the door himself.

Gloria was cute, sweet, and personable, and she knew music—she identified “Ruby, Baby,” a recent hit by the Drifters, whom Elvis loved, playing on the phonograph in the den. So after her visit, Elvis invited her back another day. Soon, she was taking her friends Heidi Heissen and Frances Forbes, who were also 14, and Elvis began asking them over for evening swims at the house, or just to watch TV. Frances, a petite, dark-haired beauty, had been hanging out by the gate of the house since she was 13. “He didn’t pay any attention to me then, but when I was 14, he noticed me. Fourteen was a magical age with Elvis. It really was.”

Fanatical in their devotion, the three girls followed Elvis everywhere he went in Memphis. Elvis had an easy rapport with the trio and felt as if he could ask them what the other kids were saying about him and his music. They were his local contacts with the larger fan base, but it went deeper than that. “He was fascinated with them,” said Lamar Fike, an aspiring deejay who was starting to integrate himself into Elvis’ entourage. In no time, Elvis was inviting the girls to go to a local roller-skating rink, and by 1957, they became his constant companions, part of the group that went to the nearby Mid-South Fairgrounds to crash into one another in the dodge-’em cars and eat endless Pronto Pups. “They were just as nutty as fruitcakes, but they were fun,” Fike remembers. “All three of them were pretty cute girls.”

As Elvis’ attraction to the girls grew, they started staying for private pajama parties—just 14-year-old Heidi, Gloria, Frances, and their 22-year-old host, holed up in his bedroom, a pale-yellow room equipped with a selection of pink stuffed animals. Elvis didn’t seem to mind that his mother had chosen such a girlish motif. “When you were in that room,” says Gloria, “you wanted to shut out the whole world for the rest of your life.”

In an odd suspension of time and gender, Elvis became not only their age but also a teenage girl. After swims in the Presleys’ pool, he’d wash and dry their hair, and they’d blow his hair dry, too. He’d tease them, say to Gloria, “Frances was jealous tonight because I was throwing you in the pool!” Then they’d all giggle, and he’d show them how to put makeup on their eyes the way he liked it, heavy on the shadow and mascara. Sometimes he’d apply the eyeliner himself. Then they’d lie on the beds and roughhouse and have pillow ?ghts, Elvis tickling and kissing them until they couldn’t take it anymore.

The girls insisted that nothing overtly sexual happened inside Elvis’ pastel lair, though it came close on occasion, as Gloria later remembered. “We’d tickle, ?ght, laugh, mess around, but all you’d have to say is, ‘Stop!’, and he’d roll over and quit. It would never be mentioned again that night. But next time, it would be the same thing exactly. You’d ?ght with him, kid around, and scuf?e. The next thing, he’d get serious and you’d just push him away. I think that if he really pushed, I would have done it.”

No matter how Elvis rationalized his interest in mentoring young girls, the relationship contained a strong erotic element. Elvis and the girls would sit on the bed yoga-style, with Elvis in the middle, and he’d kiss each one. “Gloria is jealous ’cause I kissed Frances,” he’d say, and then turn it around: “Frances is jealous ’cause I kissed Heidi.” Eventually, they’d tire of it all, and Elvis would turn out the light, lying with an arm around two of them, with the third girl stretched out across his feet. “Elvis was always kissing,” says Frances, “and it was a good kiss, a real good one. He might be doing anything—playing pool, anything—he’d walk up and kiss you, or he might turn his cheek for you to kiss him. He was especially romantic when it was just you and him. He might talk to you about things that bothered him, and just like teenagers, you’d neck a little bit. Elvis was like a teenager somewhat—the things we did were things that kids do. They really were all very innocent.”

Heidi, Gloria, and Frances were always the last fans to leave Audubon Drive. At 3 or 4 in the morning, Elvis would sit up and kiss each girl and say, “I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fike would drive the girls home, and they’d catch a few hours of sleep before getting up and going to junior high. “The amazing thing is that I never had one problem with any of the parents,” Fike says. “Not ever. It was something I assumed would not happen, and it didn’t.”

Elvis didn’t want his mother to know they stayed so late, and before Gladys Presley got up, they were out and gone. But chances are she was aware that they were there, and she probably didn’t mind. Gladys knew that Elvis, a boy-man, was looking for a child-woman he could mold into his idea of a perfect mate. Fourteen-year-olds were just the right age, as they allowed him to play the role of the older man who would teach them about life. If he could ?nd one who had his mother’s coloring, who shared her values, and who also somehow felt like his twin soul, she would hold him captive.

His friendship with the trio of Memphis teenagers lasted through the early 1960s, about the time he met 14-year-old Priscilla Beaulieu, his future wife.

If you’ve been following Tales of Rock in this blog and you’ve read about all of Elvis’ dalliances with underage girls, you’ll find this video especially filthy.

I can’t believe I found this…

My God. Listen to the lyrics! Who the hell wrote and approved this???

 

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Tales of Rock – Lori Maddox

“Lori Maddox was obsessed with sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and they were just as obsessed with her – despite the fact that she was just 14 years old.”

In 1970s Las Vegas, you were hard-pressed to find someone who wasn’t either a groupie or someone who wanted to be.

The lifestyle was one people fantasized about, leaving home, living on busses, following legendary rock stars from city to city and getting just the faintest glimpse into their lavish lifestyles. Not everyone could handle it, and those who could became almost as famous as the stars. One, in particular, was Lori Maddox.

The only problem? Lori Maddox was 14 years old.

Fresh out of junior high school, Maddox met Sable Starr, who became known as the “queen of the groupie scene.” Starr, also underage at the time, pulled Maddox into her seedy world of the after-hours parties on the Sunset Strip.

When Lori Maddox was just 15 years old, she met David Bowie.

She and Starr were at the E-Club, one of the nightclubs that dotted the strip and played host to rock stars, and turned a blind eye to drug use and girls that might not be of legal age. Bowie, eleven years her senior at the time, scared her at first. When asked about meeting Bowie, she described him as, “hair the color of carrots, no eyebrows, and the whitest skin imaginable.” She pretended she was with someone else to avoid going back to his hotel room with him.

By five months later, her fears had subsided, and she had lost her virginityto him.

When she wasn’t getting down and dirty with rockstars, Maddox could have been mistaken for any other teenage girl. During the week she went to school, lived at home with her mom, and hung out with her sisters.

On the weekends, she snuck out while her mom was at work, and frequented seedy nightclubs with much older men. Despite what seems like an obvious problem, Maddox never considered her lifestyle unusual. In fact, she reveled in it.

Not too long after her tryst with Bowie, Maddox got a phone call from Jimmy Page, guitarist and founder of Led Zeppelin, the biggest rock band in the world at the time. He invited her to his hotel and even sent a limo to collect her.

“I felt like I was being kidnapped,” she said. “I got taken into a room and there was Jimmy Page.”

If there were ever a time for it to click that her lifestyle was far from average, it should have been then, standing in the bedroom of a man quite literally double her age. But, despite the hostage-situation-like vibes, Lori Maddox didn’t run. Instead, she fell in love.

“It was perfect. He mesmerized me,” she said of the evening. “I fell in love instantly.”

Their relationship was secretive and tumultuous and constantly overshadowed by Maddox’s age. But, Page clearly didn’t care. As Maddox was underage she couldn’t travel state-to-state with the band in their jet, so she would sequester herself in Page’s hotel room, and wait for him to return. Eventually, her life outside of being a groupie began to suffer.

“My whole life was about waiting for Jimmy,” she said. “I tried going to high school, but I couldn’t concentrate. And after Jimmy Page and David Bowie, what was I going to do with a North Hollywood boy? I didn’t go to high school prom because I was too busy living the Hollywood prom.”

Then, suddenly, the fairy tale ended. As rock stars do, Jimmy Page eventually moved on, and one night after returning from a show, Maddox found him and Bebe Buell – eventual groupie/lover of Steven Tyler, and mother to his oldest daughter, Liv Tyler – in bed together. After that, her attitude changed. No longer was she there for love, she was there for fun.

Before she turned 18, Lori Madoxx would take shots with John Bonham, do several different drugs with Iggy Pop, have sex in a bathroom with Mick Jagger, and find herself in a bar fight between Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

Despite her foray into the illicit lifestyle of sex, drugs, and rock and roll all well before she reached adulthood, Maddox has no regrets. In fact, she says, she never felt better than she did all those years.

“I feel like I was very present,” she said. “I saw the greatest music ever. I got to hang out with some of the most amazing, most beautiful, most charismatic men in the world. I went to concerts in limos with police escorts. Am I going to regret this? No.”

 

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Wildwood Daze – Spring of 1980 – The Union Jacks – Part 2

Look at Chaz in his black outfit, with his ’79 Black Ibanez Iceman, rocking out for the kids. Baby steps.

 

We get our first gig at Margaret Mace Elementary and Middle School. We’re going to play for the kids in middle school. 12, 13, 14 year old kids.

Jim went to this school, and knows the faculty. He was good student, but my dear friend is an older man in high school now. He’s in Wildwood High now with me and Mark the bassist.

Incidentally I will add this side note. My Uncle Jack was valedictorian from the first graduating class of Margaret Mace. My father told me he never cracked a book. Just a brilliant charming dude.

Love him forever.

I wish I were his son. Just neglect me and let me play rock and be in the music industry.

I think family genetics get mixed up but great creativity came from pain and oppression so I’m fine with where I came from.

All the best art comes from the oppressed. Under Jack I may have just ended up a privileged asshole so I’m fine with where my soul landed.

I’m terrified to do our first show. But it’s a bunch of young kids in an auditorium. I can’t eat before the show for fear of throwing up. No one in the band knows about my severe anxiety problem.

They’re ready to rock these kids and take this band for a test drive.

I’m terrified, but we’ve rehearsed everything and have our whole set list ready. Brian would write out the set list and tape it to the floor in front of every one of us so we knew what was going to happen. I always felt comfort in that, so thank you Bri.

If I just could get through the first song I’d be fine. We got this. We always opened with Freeway Jam, I think by Jeff Beck. It was just a cool song we could run licks on and warm up to get the audience going.

It’s funny because almost every blues act does the same thing. They come out and jam for a bit and then get into their real shit with singing and hits. We did the same thing as a fledgling band automatically. It just worked for us so we could warm up and get to the songs.

We hit our groove, and Brian is always the constant professional showman we need to carry us forth.

He’s just great. He is clearly the leader of this band and we let him have the reigns. He carries us through our show with tight drumming and great vocals and showmanship.

Brian is clearly the leader of this band, but he can’t do it without me, the creative songwriter, cute, rock star one, Jim, the sizzling lead guitarist, and Mark, his flexible tone deaf puppet, carrying the rhythm.

It’s Brian’s band and it’s always been Brian’s band, but today he’s a little outnumbered. The audience has me and Jim rocking out on our guitars in the front.

Thats who the audience adores.

I’m just trying to hold it together and hit all of the right notes.

However, I’ve brought several guitar picks with me and I am throwing them out to the kids in the audience.

I’ve lived this exact scenario as a kid. If there was some rock band playing and I could be a part of it, I would attach myself to that in a second. I knew that even though I was playing rock at a middle school I had to go full on rock star. Because that’s what I wanted to be.

I bought tons of guitar picks before the show and threw dozens into the crowd knowing the result. The kids went crazy. Brian picked up on this and tossed drumsticks into the audience and they fought over them.

Back in 1979-1980 the song by JJ. Cale that became a hit by Eric Clapton had become a hit. It was all over the radio. It was called Cocaine.

Huge hit. We covered the song because it was wildly popular that year. People loved it.

Should we have played Cocaine to a bunch of 13-year-old kids? Probably not. We didn’t even think about it at the time. It was just a hit. But to play that for a bunch of kids in middle school, we probably should have deleted from the set list.

I can tell you that we did the chorus…. “She don’t like, She don’t like, She don’t like…..

The kids would shout: COCAINE!

We had know idea.

Union Jacks were already a dangerous band. (We were just playing what was popular on the radio. (Should we have reviewed the set list before playing in front of a bunch of kids….yea probably)

We’re nearing the end of our set. (The kids are going wild) The Vice Pincipal walks onstage and tells us we’re done.

Brand new young lead guitarist Jim and former alum literally pushed him off the stage…

“We’re not done yet.”

He launches into “My Generation” by the The Who, which to me is my favorite song Jim ever performed with our band. It just seemed so arrogant. It just seemed to embody my best friend.

We close out the show and I think maybe Jim busted up his Strat for show.

We never fucked around with our equiptment but because I spent $500 of my busboy money on my sweet guitar I always treated like my best girl. But Jim beat his Strat into the bass drum that day. It was a pot CBS Strat so I knew that bolt on neck would hold and could be fixed.

 

We promise to meet up later to review and revel.

By the end of the show I had a headache from not eating/not puking/anxiety/ I walked home and sat at the kitchen table with my mom.

“How was the show?”

“I should probably eat something.”

“PBJ rock star?”

“That would be lovely, mom. I think we did good but we may have played some songs that not everybody liked.”

“Well you have to expect that in rock and roll. You think Elvis cared?”

I knew my mom cried when Elvis died, but in that moment I knew my mom, even though she wouldn’t go to my shows, was proud of me.

She got it.

She just was so afraid of watching me fail.

I didn’t care. I was just happy I didn’t puke on stage because of my anxiety.

I did it. I made it.

Knock at the door. Mark and Brain are there.

One Bufferin and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich later…

“Hey guys. Thanks for bring my gear home.

Mark: “I feel like a fuckin roadie.”

Chaz: Welcome to real rock and roll. We just played a real gig and rocked the fuck out. I know it was to a bunch of kids, but we’ve got something here an got paid! ”

Mark: “Some kids recorded the whole concert on tape recorders.”

Chaz: ” Really? We have to hear them!”

Brian: “Yea. We have more gigs coming up.”

Chaz: “Cool man. We’re going to the top!”

Brian: “Oh, these are for you. Looks like you’re pretty popular.”

He hands me a stack of slips of paper with girls names and phone numbers on them.

IT’S STARTING….

I have finally arrived.

I read them all and can’t believe that after all of this time of being a loser this is happening now.

A bunch of 11, 12 and 13 year old girls want to meet me.

I throw them all in the wastebasket in my bedroom.

Because all of these lovelies are minors. Sadly this is something that will haunt me my entire life.

 

 

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Tales of Rock – Lori Maddox – Part 2

MICHAEL OCHS ARCHIVES/GETTY IMAGES
COURTESY OF LORI MATTIX

 

 

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Tales of Rock – Lori Maddox – Part 1

“I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO DAVID BOWIE”

IN THE EARLY 1970S, the Sunset Strip was a magnet for rock stars: Bowie, Zeppelin, Iggy Pop, Mott the Hoople, The Who. They all hung out in the VIP rooms of louche LA nightclubs like E Club, the Rainbow, and Rodney Bingenheimer’s English Disco. And with them, of course, came groupies. Scantily clad 14- and 15-year-olds like Sable Starr and Lynn “Queenie” Koenigsaecker sipped cherry cola, dropped pills, and evolved into pubescent dream girls for the platform-shoed rockers who could get anything and anyone they desired. 

MICHAEL OCHS ARCHIVES/GETTY IMAGES
MICHAEL OCHS ARCHIVES/GETTY IMAGES

 

 

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Wildwood Daze – Winter of 1979 – Lola – Part 6

Lola’s mom is out with her sister. All Lola and I want is some alone time.  I just want to kiss her her

I go to her house. The whole relationship has been condemned by anybody who knows. But I love her. Lola is beautiful and voluptuous and I can’t resist her. Her mom seems fine with is. I’m a nice boy who looks so innocent I’m probably her a year older than her 14-year-old daughter. I feel like Jimmy Page and Lori Maddox at this point. (Google it friends) But I adore Lola. She’s such a sweet baby to me. I always liked young girls. I think it came from me being me being grounded so much and having to hang out with my middle sisters at the house that I got a taste for young girls.

They were always around. So cute and friendly. I had no point of reference, I think it stunted my sexual maturity. From fucking up and being grounded all of the time when I was younger I would be home with my sister and her friends. I had nothing to do and they were always around. This is a thing I carried with me my entire life. All of my girlfriends once I got out of my horrible nightmare of a marriage were all younger than me.

20 years, 17 years, 10 years, and now 30 years. It’s a never ending cycle of failure.

If you date women younger than you, they will always want marriage and kids. and if you’re divorced and have a kid and paying a fortune in chid support you will never want to do that again, no matter how magically amazing your girl is. (See: Michelle.)

It’s a horrible cycle.

I kept dating and getting into relationships with young women over and over for over a decade and they all end the same.

 

Lola is delicious. I love her. But I don’t even know what love is. I have already relieved her of her virginity. I feel guilt and victory in the same breath. But mostly fear of the consequences of the adult part. Pregnancy and VD are my biggest nightmares from Jersey to LA. That and drugs.

I have realized that I love the feeling of being around a beautiful girl. I’m a teenager and I am crippled by anxiety and depression I don’t even know I have but Lola makes me feel good for the first time.

I go to her Aunt’s house and we kiss, drink soda, and watch TV. We know when her mom will be back.

I was always amazed at how big Lola’s breasts were at the age of 14 and how much she liked me having sex with her. But I was her first.

I had already had my cherry busted years ago in Philly at 16 but for Lola this was a whole new world. It was for me too. Sadly, even at the age of 17 I actually was even more turned on I was fucking an underage girl.

What was wrong with me at age 17? I don’t think now it was anything perverted because I really thought of Lola as my girlfriend and I absolutely loved her. Cute, sweet, witty and fun. Lola made me feel relaxed with a girl for the first time.

I loved her little visits with her mom in the winter of 79. Lola was the sweetest, warmest moments of my life back then.

 

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