I'll never forget the day Elvis died, just for the sheer drama of it. I was 17. My sisters were fans but my great passion at the time was John Denver. So when I heard on TV that Elvis had passed, I was interested but not devastated. I went outside into the backyard, where my Mom and my cousin Betty were having a conversation over the last of the tomato plants. I said, "You'll never believe it, Elvis is dead." Poor Betty. She began to hyperventilate and tear her hair, all the while wailing "O God, it can't be true", and then she passed out cold in the tomato patch. My Mom picked up the lawn sprinkler and held it over her head until she came to.