My childhood was in the 1960s and 70s. I spent much of that time playing outside in the dirt with my faithful dog, King. My kid sister, Denise and I built a tree house in a vacant lot behind our grandparent’s home. We spent countless hours there, unsupervised.
Close to where we lived was an undeveloped section of the park. The kids in the neighborhood had a system of well-worn trails all through it. In one particular area stood a tall pine tree. It must have been 50 feet tall. Once you reached the lowest branch — about 6 feet off the ground — it was like climbing a ladder on the other branches to the top.
Growing up at that age, children enjoyed more freedom. There was a bell on our carport — I never remember a car parked there — and mom would ring it as loud as she could for dinner, hoping we were within earshot.
There were five channels on the tube — 2, 4, 5, 11 and 13. I watched the Lone Ranger and Fury on our 19-inch RCA color TV in the mornings and Gilligan’s Island and Star Trek after school.
The 60s was the era of drugs, rock and roll, sex, flower power, hippies and Vietnam. But of course, I was too young for all that except rock and roll.
After my sister and I had earned some money, we decided to go together and join a “record club.” For those of you who were born in the 90s let me explain. For the low, low price of $1.99 you could choose ten vinyl albums — later, it became 8-track tapes, cassette tapes, and, finally, CDs. You were then required to order more albums at the regular price.
Each month as a club member, you would receive a new magazine with the month’s selection. Here’s the catch, if you didn’t decline in 10 days it was mailed to you automatically, whether you wanted it or not.
Some of the records we ordered were by the Carpenters, Simon and Garfunkel and Chicago. We never choose albums by Elvis Presley or The Beatles. I have never been a fan of their music.
What I do enjoy is history. So, I recently read the 12th book in Bill O’Reilly’s “Killing” series. Entitled Killing the Legends, the latest book focuses on the lives and deaths of Elvis Presley, John Lennon and Muhammad Ali.
Each of these “Legends” was a big part of the time I grew up, but I had no interest in them.
I remember watching some of Presley’s movies on TV, but I did not enjoy his music. I knew the King of Rock and Roll died at his home in Graceland, but I did not weep for his untimely demise.
To me, Lennon was just a washed-out drug addict from a rock and roll band that broke up. I have no idea where I was or what I was doing when he died from an assassin’s bullet on Dec. 8, 1980, in New York City. I didn’t mourn his passing.
Ali fought in the ring 61 times after turning professional in 1960. He lost his last fight in ten rounds on Dec. 11, 1981, against Trevor Berbick. I recall Ali boasting on the news that he was “the Greatest,” but I never saw one of his fights.
Interesting tidbits I learned from this book:
• Presley started dating Priscilla Beaulieu when she was just 15.
• Elvis dyed his hair black, and so did Priscilla.
• Ali “absorbed almost two hundred thousand blows to the head and torso” during his career.
• Ali fought a Japanese wrestler on June 26, 1976, which is now seen as a precursor to modern mixed martial arts (MMA).
• Watching Saturday Night Live on April 24, 1976, just a mile away from the show, John Lennon and Paul McCartney almost made an impromptu appearance when the show’s producer invited the four Beatles to come on the show.
The one thread that ties these men together is they each turned over control of their professional lives to someone else. In the case of Presley and Ali, this mistake cost them financially and can be part of the blame of their poor health and, ultimately, their death.
Thanks to O’Reilly and his co-writer Martin Dugard, I now have a healthy respect for each of these icons and how they affected America and the world.
You are depriving yourself if you enjoy history but don’t read O’Reilly’s books because of his political leanings. There is nothing political in any of his books I have read. I have enjoyed every one of them and always learned something, even when I was already familiar with the subject.
