On August 18, under the heavy Memphis sun, thousands lined the streets in a silent parade of sorrow. Faces were streaked with tears; hands clutched flowers, photographs, and notes. They came from all walks of life, united in their love and mourning. It was a testament to the reach of Elvis’s spirit — a reminder that even in death, he was still the King. His casket, gleaming and somber, was carried with reverence, the weight of it mirrored by the hearts that followed. The destination was Forest Hill Cemetery, where he would be laid to rest beside his beloved mother, Gladys.

Just eleven days later, in the stillness of a Memphis night, the unthinkable happened. Three men attempted to steal Elvis Presley’s body. The plot was audacious, almost surreal — the idea that someone would target a dead man, even one as famous as Elvis, was horrifying. Their intentions, motivated by greed and notoriety, were thwarted, but the psychological impact was profound. The Presley family, already fragile from loss, was thrown into a new state of shock and fear. Vernon Presley, who had held on through decades of public scrutiny, was consumed by a terror that few could imagine: that even in death, his son might not be safe.
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