Ginger Alden - Elvis and Ginger: Elvis Presleys Fiancée and Last Love Finally Tells Her Story

One September afternoon in 2001, I was standing on the side porch of my home in New York. The school year had just begun and I was waiting for the yellow bus that usually came roaring up our street at this time to bring my son, Hunter, home.

When the bus arrived at the end of our driveway, the doors swung open and Hunter jumped out, racing toward me wearing a pair of oversize sunglasses he had taken with him earlier that morning. Some of the kids on the bus were calling me Elvis! he exclaimed breathlessly. Whos Elvis?

I was surprised that children as young as mine would know who Elvis was. Hunters question caught me off guard. I wasnt prepared to reveal an extremely special relationship in my life to my son, whose birth seven years earlier had been scheduled for August 16, the same day Elvis died. Hunter arrived four days late, sparing me the irony of having such a happy event coincide with the date of such a tragic event in my life.

That afternoon, I told Hunter the simplest truth. Elvis was a very famous entertainer, I said. I breathed a sigh of relief when he ran inside, seemingly satisfied with my response.

As the year progressed, however, Hunter occasionally asked me more questions about Elvis: What kind of hairstyle did he wear? What kind of music did he sing?

I knew these questions had to be prompted by conversations at school. Still, I kept my answers short and simple, knowing one day Id have to say more.

By the end of that school year, I had decided to tell Hunter a little about Elvis and me. I didnt know quite how to begin. It felt strange to talk with him about a man Id loved long before meeting his father.

Not knowing what my sons reaction would be, I was a little nervous and felt an involuntary tremble. I hadnt talked about Elvis in a long time. This person youve been asking about, Elvis, well, Mommy knew him, I said and then paused. I wasnt feeling comfortable enough to tell him that Elvis and I had been engaged, so I simply added, Elvis was a very nice man I met long ago. He was someone who loved to sing and make people happy.

I waited for any questions, but he just said, Cool! and as he went off to play, I began to feel that all of my apprehension about opening up this conversation with him was unnecessary. For him it was simple. For me, it was profoundly complex.

I had written down my memories of Elvis not long after he passed away as a way of holding on to them. I felt I had to grant a few interviews at various times, but I always kept the true, complete story and intimate details of our time together to myself. I went forward with my life, but over time, I was shocked and hurt to see that speculations, exaggerations, and complete untruths regarding Elvis, me, and our relationship were unjustly being told by a few people who had been around Elvispeople Id barely gotten to know and some I hardly knew at all. Some of their stories were then picked up and spread by other writers for their own Elvis biographies. Many books have sensationalized and even fictionalized Elvis as being depressed and in a downward spiral during his last year of life. However, the Elvis that I knew was not the way he was portrayed in the media. He saw his relationship with me as a new beginning and was excited about both the relationship and what the future would bring for the two of us.