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By Root 1587 0

the celebrated Tupelo, Mississippi, historian, is also the kind of angel who watches over errant authors. He answered what must have seemed like a thousand questions—never complaining of the drain on his time—and fact-checked the first two chapters twice as new information came to the fore. Then, at the last minute, he provided the amazing Parchman Penitentiary letters. The day he called me “Mate,” I felt as though I had earned my first merit badge, and I shone like a new brass button.

Suzanne Finstad, author of Child Bride: The Untold Story of Priscilla Beaulieu Presley, was the kind of generous biographer writers dream about. She also fact-checked chapters, and offered telephone time and more while on deadline for a book herself. Her finest compliment came in an e-mail: “We are comrades.”

Super-sleuth Patrick Lacy, author of Elvis Decoded: A Fan’s Guide to Deciphering the Myths and Misinformation, was a constant co-detective, helping me run down rumors and hard to access documents. While I was repeatedly impressed at the depth of his reporting skills, I also found him to be an amazing and indefatigable copyeditor, photo scanner, and friend, always offering help, hope, and long-distance hand-holding, no matter what the hour.

When the project was still in its infancy, Robin Rosaaen, Elvis collector and fan extraordinaire, began offering contact information, insider stories, and much-needed enthusiastic support. She was there at the end, too, opening her vast Elvis photo collection, and providing unusual and never-before-published photographs.

Andreas Roth also demonstrated remarkable kindness in allowing me to reprint a rare photo from his The Ultimate Elvis in Munich Book. His exciting e-mails added a new depth to my understanding of Elvis’s army years and his off-base activities in Europe.

David Troedson of the terrific Web site Elvis Australia (www.elvis.com.au), likewise provided a number of pictures, and publicized the book at the beginning to help me find interview subjects.

And Nancy Kozikowski was incredibly generous to lend her spectacular photographs and memories of her remarkable 1956 Elvis adventure in Las Vegas, which made my heart beat fast.

Very special thanks go to Randall Elkins, who was both my photography guru—scanning, corralling, and tracking essential images around the globe—and my reality check. Sometimes I would struggle with a paragraph for days, trying to distill a complex idea into a few sentences, only to have him speak it back to me in one concise and poetic sentence that would have me nearly on my knees.

I am also hugely indebted to Shirley Dieu, who after sharing her own memories, encouraged others to speak with me, including Joe Esposito, who continues to “TCB” after all these years. Joe, in turn, answered more questions than any one man should be burdened with, and also made numerous calls on my behalf. His kindness astonished me, as did Shirley’s. She stayed with me ’til the end.

Barbara Hearn Smith became like a big sister to me after our interview, and offered assistance in ways too many to enumerate. Sheila Ryan Caan and June Juanico also won my heart after our talks, and Joyce Bova, Carolyn Bradshaw Shanahan, Barbara Leigh, Jackie Rowland, Regis Wilson Vaughn, Kay Wheeler, Reeca Smith Gossan, and Nita Lynn Zahn, too, proved unforgettable.

Kittra Moore, already a dear friend, suggested a great number of wonderful ideas, and Elizabeth Clifford never failed to take a frantic phone call when the going got rough. Gale Nash Snyder, my sister, and Richard H. Nash Jr., my cousin, taught me to love Elvis at the very start.

My most unsung hero, however, is my neighbor, Carolyn Shircliffe, who transcribed almost all of the interview tapes, and managed to remain both sane and pleasant throughout. She has my undying love, admiration, and gratitude.

Of course, the book would not exist were it not for my editor, Kate Hamill, who put up with more author abuse than anyone dare imagine, fought hard for the book to be what I envisioned, and never lost her cool with me, though I wouldn’t have