A New Book Shifts the Narrative on Elvis and Colonel Tom Parker

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The tale of Elvis Presley mirrors America’s journey in the latter half of the 20th century, a tale so unbelievably unlikely that we’re still struggling to comprehend it, a fourth into the 21st century. Regardless of whether you attribute praise or criticism to Elvis for introducing white audiences to Black American music, there’s no denying he shattered barriers. As Americans, we embody a complex blend of identity, with our fair share of conflicts, but ultimately seeking harmony through shared experiences and emotions.

The narrative of Elvis’ rise and fall continues to captivate us, inspiring filmmakers like Sofia Coppola and Baz Luhrmann. In an age when technology aims to predict our preferences, and AI strives to cater to them, Elvis’ talents and missteps serve as a reminder that authentic greatness arises from human imperfections, encompassing both pain and pleasure.

History shows us that Elvis Presley wasn’t a solo act; he had Colonel Tom Parker, a dynamic Dutch manager, by his side. In 1955, when Parker first saw Elvis on stage, he felt an electric connection with the charismatic yet inexperienced performer. The popular belief is that Parker only saw dollar signs when he looked at Elvis, but this oversimplifies both men.

In his book, “The Colonel and the King: Tom Parker, Elvis Presley, and the Partnership that Rocked the World,” veteran music scholar Peter Guralnick argues that Parker was more complex than the monster image often portrayed. Yes, Parker loved making money, but he also had a deep affection for Elvis, a love that was as opportunistic as it was tender. Both men shared similar ambitious goals and were almost supernaturally persuasive, with a stubborn streak to match. They rose together and fell apart together.

Guralnick’s perspective on Parker is sympathetic yet clear-eyed, making you reconsider your previous opinions about him. After reading the book, one realizes that biographers are meant to challenge our preconceived notions.

In 1988, Guralnick started an uncertain friendship with Parker that lasted until 1996, with occasional correspondence. During this time, Guralnick was working on his comprehensive two-part biography of Elvis Presley, titled “Last Train to Memphis” (1994) and “Careless Love: The Unmaking of Elvis Presley” (1998). After the publication of “Last Train to Memphis”, Guralnick was granted access by Jack Soden, CEO of Elvis Presley Enterprises, to explore Parker’s business archives, encompassing everything from gas receipts to legal documents to contracts. Additionally, he gained access to Parker’s personal letters, a collection of lively, passionate, assertive, and punctuated correspondences that detail Parker’s ascent, parallel with Elvis’s.

The book is divided into two parts. The first part narrates Parker’s life story, presenting a balanced perspective, questioning some of the stories that Parker may or may not have fabricated. The second part consists of the letters, accompanied by Guralnick’s explanatory notes. While repetitive might be an understatement for the second half, it could also be seen as reinforcing the information presented in the first section.

By disclosing Parker’s business methods directly from his own words, the book strengthens everything previously revealed about him. This dual approach gives the book its strength, challenging some myths and celebrating others, thus paying homage to the enigmatic spirit of the brilliant Parker.

If you’ve watched Luhrmann’s captivating and entertaining film Elvis from 2022, you might think you understand a piece of Parker’s story, but it may not reveal the actual truth. The initial portion of Guralnick’s book sets out to clarify how Andreas Cornelis van Kuijk, born in Breda, Holland in 1909, transformed himself into Colonel Tom Parker-though he was never a true colonel, he became an extraordinary myth-maker instead. As a child, young Andreas didn’t fit in at school and his father, a livery man, didn’t understand him. It seems he even abused him. Andreas found ways to escape his difficult circumstances emotionally at first. His love for the circus was so profound that he assembled his own circus as a child, featuring acrobatics, trained sparrows and beetles, and a rabbit among other attractions. When he attempted to involve his father’s workhorses in the act, he was brutally beaten. However, Andreas had an innate ability to charm himself out of tricky situations, earning trust and friendship wherever he went. In the spring of 1926, he made it to America as a stowaway, but was caught and sent back. He succeeded in sneaking onto a ship bound for Hoboken a few months later, at just 17 years old, marking the start of his new American life and a comprehensive self-transformation.

As a movie critic, I embarked on my journey in 1929, openly acknowledging my Dutch roots before enlisting in the U.S. military. Hawaii, a place that would later captivate me, was where I found myself stationed. However, the disciplined life of the army didn’t resonate with my spirit. I seized the opportunity to leave and immerse myself in the world of carnivals, climbing the ranks from the bottom up, eventually transitioning into artist management. I nurtured the budding careers of country music stars like Eddy Arnold and Hank Snow. Yet, it was during a performance at the Louisiana Hayride in 1955 that I was struck by lightning. Guralnick eloquently stated, “It was astounding, the swiftness of this transformation.” If I had been subtly distancing myself from my Dutch past, in an instant, it was as if I had wiped it clean. I hastily abandoned my other obligations. The young Elvis Presley became the essence of my past, present, and future.

Starting from this point, Guralnick constructs a compelling argument that while Parker was indeed a savvy businessman, he always acted in ways that prioritized his client’s best interests. The deals he struck were undeniably advantageous for both parties; the more Elvis prospered, the more Parker benefited. However, Parker consciously kept himself detached from Elvis’ artistic or personal decisions. He intervened only when he perceived his client slipping into self-destructive patterns: after Elvis made an off-color joke during a performance early on, Parker privately reprimanded him, and the sincere boy that Elvis was, he heeded the advice. In later years, Parker attempted to intervene through Elvis’ father, Vernon, to curb Elvis’ extravagant spending, knowing full well that his client couldn’t recoup the money he was losing, especially to the growing number of associates who were clinging to him like barnacles.

Did Colonel Parker, who typically used “Colonel” but sometimes added “the,” put excessive pressure on Elvis, particularly by pushing him into a string of high-paying Las Vegas shows. This pressure allegedly led Elvis to self-destructive drug use. However, it’s debatable how much control Parker had over the situation. Guralnick argues that Elvis’ downfall caused Parker significant distress. In writing his book, Guralnick gained insights from Loanne, Parker’s second wife and widow. After a disappointing performance in Hartford, Conn., in 1976, Parker couldn’t reach Elvis backstage; he was too drugged up to respond. According to Loanne, Parker lamented, “What can I do? The real Elvis…was sharp and clever, but the man I saw tonight didn’t recognize me. I miss the real Elvis so much. If only I knew how to bring him back. I miss my friend so much.” After this encounter, Parker cried uncontrollably, as tears poured down.

Colonel’s behavior wasn’t typical. He was elusive, captivating, peculiar, and cunning. He never seemed to tire. When he purchased Elvis from the man who discovered him, Sam Phillips of Sun Record Company, he negotiated a deal as hard as a diamond. If he hadn’t done so, the Elvis we recognize-the only Elvis our imagination can conjure up-wouldn’t have emerged. Can you imagine what kind of world that would be?

Parker struggled with inner turmoil, as he was addicted to gambling, which often put his limited personal connections at risk. Despite repeated attempts by his Dutch family members to rebuild their relationship with him, he consistently pushed them away – they represented a past self that he had left behind long ago. However, he was fiercely devoted to his friends and colleagues. Although he started seeing Loanne before his first wife, Marie, passed away, he ensured Marie received proper care during her prolonged illness. Beneath his knack for trickery lay a strong sense of honesty, albeit one that occasionally faltered, like all individuals do.

Parker excelled in pulling off clever deceptions; he acknowledged this talent and wore it like a badge of honor. He even established a club for individuals he dubbed “snowmen,” individuals skilled at deceiving and charming, but who knew when to draw the line at dishonesty. Reading “The Colonel and The King, one might ponder if Guralnick himself was deceived by Parker. Absolutely! Such is the cost of being deeply invested in a subject, not blindly, but with an unyielding pursuit of truth. What other path can there be? Guralnick demonstrates that loving Elvis implies loving Parker, even if it’s begrudgingly. They walked together as far as they could. It holds significance that we can still hear their footsteps echoing.

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2025-08-07 20:06