ROCK ‘N ROLL’S FATHER AND KING
The Puzzle of Bill Haley and Elvis Presley’s Prominence
by David Lee Joyner and Chris Gardner
In the late 1960s, famed composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein told journalist Richard Clurman, “Elvis Presley is the greatest cultural force in in the 20th century.” Also in the 1960s, at a television studio where they had all gathered, British journalist Alan Watkins witnessed fellow countryman and politician Enoch Powell asking Bill Haley if he could shake his hand. When asked why he wanted to do that, Powell replied, “He is the most influential character of our age.”
The action having been performed to mutual satisfaction, they talked with equal affability for a few minutes. Later I asked Powell: “Why did you want to shake Bill Haley’s hand, Enoch?” “Why did I want to shake Bill Haley’s hand?” Powell replied, for one of his conversational tricks was to repeat the question before answering it, if indeed he ever came ‘round to doing so. “Surely the answer must be obvious. He is the most influential character of our age.”
In the history of rock ’n’ and roll there has always been spirited debate comparing Bill Haley and Elvis Presley and their role in the early days of the music. Haley seemed to have known from the first moment Elvis came to his attention that the young man from Memphis would represent, if not directly bring about, the diminishing of his career. This was something he bore with alternating resignation, bitterness, and paternal pride.
“The first three years were ours, all ours, till Presley came along.”- Bill Haley
From “Falling Comet” (Texas Monthly), 2011: “Haley was increasingly bitter that all the credit for rock and roll had gone to Elvis. ‘He talked and talked about how Elvis got so famous,’ said Sam Charters [Haley’s record producer in the 1970s]. ‘He couldn’t get over it.’”
“He would be sober and happy for months, then something would happen (like when Elvis died) that triggered a week or two-long binge.” -Pedro Haley (Bill’s youngest son)
Because of the chronology of their first fruits and their age difference, Haley has usually been dubbed the “father” or “daddy” of rock ’n’ roll and Elvis, because of the height and longevity of his career, is considered the “king.”
Haley outlived Presley by four years. Even Presley’s death haunted him and, to Haley’s mind, imposed another burden. In the preface to his unpublished autobiography, Haley explained that he came out of retirement “only through the urging of promoters and fans and people… who convinced me after Elvis Presley died that unless I once again began to do tours that everything… I had worked for would be forgotten.”
(Russell Dota, Houston Lincoln dealer, in Texas Monthly): “After Elvis died, in 1977, Bill told me, ‘If I could’ve gotten in to see Elvis, I could’ve helped straighten him out.’ You had to sympathize with the poor guy [Haley] — he just seemed a little bit lost.”
From Texas Monthly: “At some point in 1978 he began to think about another comeback, maybe because Elvis had recently died and everyone was saying he was the guy who had started rock and roll.”
There were definitely parallels in Haley and Presley’s upbringings and musical journeys. Both grew up in poverty with doting mothers and Southern-born fathers who scraped by either farming or working menial jobs. Both developed an early and insatiable passion for music that they would pursue at all costs. Both voraciously absorbed and synthesized all kinds of music, defying the strict stylistic and cultural categories established by the music industry of the day. Both were influenced by the ubiquitous broadcasts of The Grand Ole Opry every Saturday night. Both more or less had their “coming out” at fairground-type settings — Haley performing “Has Anybody Seen My Gal?,” age eighteen, in 1943 at the Booth’s Corner, Pennsylvania Auction Mart and Presley, age ten, singing the Red Foley tearjerker “Old Shep” in 1945 at the Mississippi-Alabama Fair and Dairy Show in Tupelo.
Particularly significant to the history of the beginnings of rock ’n’ roll is the fact that both Bill Haley’s and Elvis Presley’s producers (Dave Miller and Sam Phillips respectively) experimented with producing a white musician with a convincing “black” sound that could break the tight style category barriers set up by the industry in the late 1940s and early 1950s. To this end, both artists made records with a “black song” on one side and a country song on the other. Haley recalled his first meeting with producer Dave Miller at WPWA in Chester, Pennsylvania:
When Dave arrived at the station I found him to be a young man full of enthusiasm and a real eager beaver and he told me that when he first heard me sing he thought I was a black singer doing country songs, and that his idea was to record me doing cover records of black songs. We finally came to an agreement. We decided to do one side a black song and a country tune on the other. He said he would only use the name Bill Haley and not allow any pictures of me as he wanted to sell me to both black and white audiences. I agreed to this because it was a way to further my ideas about selling to all people — not just one set of fans. The first record we did for Dave was a cover of Jackie Brenston’s record of a song called “Rocket 88.” and on the other side we did “Tearstains on My Heart.” The initial reaction was not overwhelming, but we sold about 10,000 copies in the Eastern markets. This was enough for Dave Miller to record other tunes with us.
Similarly, SUN Records producer Sam Phillips’ most famous quote was “If I could find a white man who had a Negro sound and the Negro feel, I could make a billion dollars,” although he always denied that he had ever said it. Phillips seems to have found his man when 19-year old Elvis Presley came to his Memphis studio in July 1954. It’s easy to see the parallel between what Dave Miller heard in Bill Haley and what Sam Phillips heard in Elvis. Elvis Presley’s first recording for SUN in Memphis had Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup’s “That’s Alright, Mama,” a “black song,” on one side and Bill Monroe’s “Blue Moon of Kentucky,” a “country song,” on the other. (Monroe hated Presley’s rockabilly interpretation of his gentle waltz tune until the royalty checks starting rolling in!)
Both were shy boys but their music attracted girls like moths to a candle flame. Fame, fan frenzy, and the intensity of their careers weighed heavily on them and isolated them. Neither sought or expected the crazed reaction of young fans and the vitriol of moral authorities over their music. Both would die at a relatively early age aided to whatever extent by alcohol or prescription drugs.
Then there are the differences. The difference that always comes to the fore is that Elvis was young and undeniably attractive, ten years younger than the more fatherly-looking Bill Haley, whose spit curl made him look, at best, like the 1930s-era Superman. Haley’s presentation was all about the band, not about himself as the front man. Presley was always a singular attraction; he did not have a band as such, no Elvis Presley and the Whatevers, at least after his initial SUN recordings labeled “ELVIS PRESLEY” with smaller type “SCOTTY and BILL.” Haley stood steadfastly on his mark, the only real bodily movement was his “singer’s march” in place. He left the stage acrobatics to the circus clown antics of Comets Joey Ambrose and Marshall Lytle and, later, Rudy Pompilli and Al Rex, saxophonists and bassists respectively. Presley was in constant and sensual motion, hence his nickname “Elvis the Pelvis.” It was this unbridled physical accompaniment to his singing that prompted the camera operators on CBS television’s Ed Sullivan Show to cut him off at the waist by the time he got to his third appearance in January 1957. Haley and the Comets only got bit parts in a couple of movies, even in Rock Around the Clock, in which he got top billing. Presley became a film star with a run of movies spanning almost fifteen years.
There were great differences in the capabilities of Haley’s and Presley’s management. Jim Ferguson was out of his league when it came to managing Haley’s career, particularly when it hit its peak. Haley was stubbornly loyal to Ferguson and they seemed to feed off of each other’s hedonism and business ineptitude. Jolly Joyce, Haley’s next manager, was even worse, booking The Comets after their heyday as a cheap lounge act in Holiday Inns and similar venues. Bill Haley’s third wife Martha said, “Jolly Joyce prostituted him…If it hadn’t been for Jolly Joyce his pride would not have dropped so much.”
Martha thought better of Bill’s next manager, Paddy Malynn. “Paddy, in my time, he was the best.” Malynn was adamant about getting Bill and The Comets back out on the international stage where he had sustained a fervent fan base, even among young people who were not of Haley’s era, and demanding big money for the appearances. “And that’s what Paddy started to do,” Martha stated. “He was already getting like $20,000 a performance.” Latter-day Comets guitarist Bill Turner, who did his best to keep The Comets together after the death of Rudy Pompilli, had a darker view of Malynn. In his interview with Otto Fuchs, he said that Malynn “was doing everything he could to undermine the band — he was a real instigator.” He not only accused Malynn of trying to break up the band but even driving a wedge between the members of Haley’s three families.
Presley, on the other hand, was under the management of the savvy and experienced Tom Parker. Presley was equally loyal to his manager, but unquestioningly deferred to Parker’s decisions. Many critics thought that Parker took an unusually large cut of Presley’s income, but he made them both multi-millionaires and sustained Presley’s career at a high level, passing him into popular culture mythology even before his death in 1977. “Let’s face it, Colonel Parker was a genius, he really was,” Bill Turner said. “I don’t care what people say about him, Elvis approved of him all the way, whatever their financial ‘split’ was. It’s interesting to see what would have happened if Bill Haley had Colonel Tom Parker on his side.” In his autobiography, Bill Haley attempts to faithfully elevate Jim Ferguson to the same sphere of significance as Tom Parker, but concedes that Parker was “the greatest manager of our time” and that Ferguson “took lessons” from Parker while they were on tour in 1955. “Without the Lord Jims and Col. Tom Parkers of that day, there would not have been the Bill Haleys & Elvis Presleys. So much credit goes to these people.”
Now to the musical comparisons. Haley synthesized the swing big band-derived blues of Louis Jordan, whereas Presley would was more influenced by the electric blues of B. B. King and Howlin’ Wolf that migrated from Sam Phillips’ SUN studios and WDIA radio in Memphis to the Chess brothers’ studios in Chicago. Remember that, as mentioned above, both Haley and Presley fed their musical imagination on a lot of the same sources — movie cowboys, Hank Williams, Grand Ole Opry broadcasts, et. al. Everyone in the Northeast, including Haley himself, called his music “hillbilly music.” In focusing on the wild man exuberance of Presley and his SUN Records stablemate Jerry Lee Lewis, many Haley biographers completely miss the origin of Presley and Lewis’ unhinged style — southern gospel music.
In his two-volume Elvis Presley biography, Peter Guralnick unequivocally states, “There was probably no type of music that he didn’t love, but [male gospel] quartet music was the center of his musical universe. Gospel music combined the spiritual force that he felt in all music with the sense of physical release and exaltation for which, it seemed, he was casting about.” Presley grew up in the fundamentalist Assembly of God church, with an emotional and boisterous style of worship that was reflected in its music. Gospel music in black and white churches had many similarities as well as some differences. It easily moved out of the sanctuary into the secular world of entertainment while still maintaining its evangelical message. In the South, the white male gospel quartet was a staple of radio, television, recordings, and the stage. Like a barbershop quartet on steroids, the singers gave breathtaking displays of tight harmonies and virtuosic technique at the outer extremes of the male vocal range. The groups always featured a tenor that could reach tonsil-splitting high notes and a bass singer that belched out impossibly low notes. The groups were usually accompanied only by piano, playing in a ragtime-like stride style. Immaculately suited and coiffed, the quartets were the epitome of poise and decorum, standing in calculated formation and flashing wholesome and inviting smiles to their audience while thrilling them with energetic rhythm and force.
Elvis Presley ate this stuff up. He was a frequent patron of the marathon gospel quartet concerts at Ellis Auditorium’s North Hall in Memphis that would attract up to five thousand people per performance. He admired and longed to emulate the vocal fireworks of the Blackwood Brothers’ tenor Jake Hess as well as the giant bass singer J. D. Sumner. The Jordanaires sang background vocals on his RCA records and live shows, a gospel music version of the easy-listening chorus heard on RCA and Decca “Nashville Sound” recordings. Most of Presley’s all-night jam sessions at his Graceland mansion in Memphis were gospel music sessions. When Elvis performed, his conditioning in the evangelical church put him “in the spirit,” manifesting itself in profound physical movement that those outside of the church context mistook for vulgar, sexual display, particularly when it being done by such a handsome young man. When questioned about it in interviews, Presley usually seemed at a loss for an explanation, as if he neither had control over it or even the memory of doing it. In addition to vocal range fireworks and impassioned delivery, another gospel quartet technique adopted by Presley was a way of delivering a lyric that gave a percussive shuffle beat to an ensemble that usually did not have drums. For instance, if you listen to Elvis on the Otis Blackwell song, “All Shook Up,” he sings, “A-Well-a bless-a my soul-a what’s-a wrong-a with me. . .,” where the “a’s” provide an upbeat kick aligning with the right hand of the piano, characteristic of a shuffle groove.
That same evangelical background would plague Presley as to the morality of his music. Jerry Lee Lewis, who similarly grew up in the Assembly of God church in Louisiana and is cousin of the infamous evangelist Jimmy Swaggart, had a similar inner turmoil. There is a famous recording of Lewis having a religious meltdown in the SUN Records studio just before recording his famous “Great Balls of Fire” in 1957. He almost refused to do it. Similarly, Elvis asked Lewis if he (Elvis) was singing the devil’s music, to which Lewis mercilessly teased, “Boy, you are the devil.”
Bill Haley never wrestled with such a moral dilemma, but he was also light years from the gravitational pull of white male gospel music and the Southern Christian hellfire and brimstone that was Presley’s cultural core. Haley always felt his music was just music and devoted a lot of time and energy trying to convince authorities of his viewpoint. He could see that his rock ’n’ roll excited youngsters to the point of rioting and destruction of property, but could not wrap his head around his music actually being of the devil, even with clergy and civic officials throwing those accusations in his face.
It is now time to go to Bill Haley’s autobiography and get his own account of his Elvis memories and his relationship to him. Always paternal in tone, he refers to “my boy Elvis” when referring to the Cleveland concert in 1955 and “my old pal Elvis.” He remains cordial and objective when obviously recognizing Presley’s advantages of better looks and better management, but truly — and rightfully — takes pride in whatever part he played in offering guidance and encouragement to a young man that was in awe of him. However, there is no doubt that Haley saw Presley as a commercial adversary in his memoir, twice speaking of Elvis “challenging me for the King of Rock ’n’ Roll title.”
Here is Haley’s story of his first encounter with Presley, confident of his own dominance in rock ’n’ roll — and even his established place in country music — at this point in time:
In 1955 Lord Jim received a phone call from Colonel Tom Parker, who was then managing Hank Snow. We were scheduled to do a short tour of the Midwest and Oklahoma with Hank Snow, Marty Robbins, and acts from the Grand Ole Opry. I was anxiously looking forward to this, because I knew these were great entertainers and I would be right at home with my own people, the country music fans. Tom explained to Jim that he was going to sign a young man from Memphis, and that he wanted to bring him along on the tour to give him some experience and exposure. He wanted to ask Jim if it would be alright with me. The young man Tom was referring to was named Elvis Presley, and I told Jim that we would be glad to have him with us.
And so, we traveled to Omaha, Nebraska, for the opening night of the tour. We arrived in the afternoon and I went to the auditorium for the sound check, and to say hello to Colonel Tom and Hank Snow and the rest. I talked for a while with my old friends. They all had a lot of praise for this new young kid, and so I was quite interested to hear him do his show. The first night was a sellout, and after Hank and Marty had been on, and I was back in my dressing room I heard them announce Elvis Presley. As I watched the tall, good-looking youngster do his show, to only mild applause, I could see great potential but he seemed not to be timing his tunes. We went on and did our part of the show.
When I returned to the dressing room, there came a knock on the door, and in walked Elvis, and he introduced himself. He was, and would remain all the years I knew him, a very shy, polite, young guy. He told me that I was his favorite singer, and for many years, Elvis would repeat this. Whether he meant it or not, I never really found out; but, anyway, he told me of his ambitions and how thankful he was to be on the tour. He asked if I would help him with any advice I could. I promised I would. For the next two or three nights, as the tour rolled along to great business, Elvis and I had more chance to get to talk and joke and kid each other. As I got to know him better, I realized that here was a very intense and determined young guy who really was intent on making it big in show business. Please remember those were the days before Elvis had had big exposure, or any big records, and on this show were the giants — Hank Snow, an idol of mine and Marty Robbins, a giant in the business, even then, and of course our group with the #1 record “Shake Rattle & Roll.” So, it wasn’t easy for this young man, just starting out, to go out every night to packed houses and entertain a crowd, there to see other artists, and impatient as the audience always is, while waiting for the feature attraction. Nevertheless, as the tour progressed, Elvis held his own every night.
One night after he had done his show, I saw him standing backstage looking kind of down. I called him to my dressing room and asked him what was wrong. He told me that he was worried because he didn’t seem to be able to get the audience where he wanted them and couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong. I encouraged him and explained that he was fighting all the hit records of Snow, Robbins and myself. I assured him of how proud we were of him, because he was indeed holding his own. I also suggested that he take out some of the slow ballads and add more up-tempo songs such as his “Blue Moon of Kentucky” and “That’s All Right Mama.” He did change some of them, and whether it helped him or not, I don’t know. However, years later, in Germany, he was to recall our days here and he thanked me.
In his later references to Elvis, Haley tries to maintain his place as mentor or even peer, but recognizing that the young man from Memphis would knock him off the gold medal podium in the Olympics of rock ’n’ roll. Notice that he refers to Presley as both challenger and friend in the same sentence, perhaps to assert his confidence or to recognize Presley’s growing stature and to have the reader believe that their personal relationship was closer than it really was.
We finished our tour, and I didn’t see Elvis again until Cleveland. As he was to go on to challenge me in the next few years for the “King of Rock” title, our paths were not to cross as much as we, as friends, would have liked to. But more of that later in the story. It is with great warmth that I remember this tour and young Elvis in his pink Cadillac, tremendous raw talent, and ambitions. I was indeed proud of him as he climbed the ladder of success. Also, all through this tour Lord Jim was taking lessons from the greatest Manager of our time, Colonel Tom Parker. Tom and Jim smoked many a cigar together. Those were indeed happy days for all of us.
After leaving Lubbock, we went on to Cleveland, Ohio, to do a show called A Sock Hop for my good friend, Bill Randle. The show was to be held at the Brooklyn High School, and featured Bill Haley and the Comets, The 4 Lads, a young Pat Boone, and my boy, Elvis Presley. We arrived, and before the show, had a grand reunion with Elvis, who in one short year was really on his way. Colonel Tom had signed him to RCA Victor, and as we laughed and talked that evening, Elvis told me of all his plans and how helpful Bill Randle had been. Elvis was shortly to do The Jackie Gleason Show, and, as we parted that evening, wishing each other good luck, we were both shortly to be swallowed up in the publicity, clamor, and rush of the hectic first days of big time Rock & Roll. We had talked that night of doing a tour together, but it was never to be.
Local DJ, Bill Randle, a great supporter of rock ’n’ roll and Bill Haley in particular, organized an afternoon show on October 20th at Cleveland, Ohio’s Brooklyn High School, in which Bill and Elvis were joined by Pat Boone and the Four Aces. There was a second show in the evening at St. Michael’s Hall in Cleveland. The shows were filmed for a 15-minute “short,” becoming known as The Pied Piper of Cleveland (A Day in the life of a Disc Jockey), but it was never released. Reading between the lines of the eyewitness accounts, it was Elvis who stole this show in front of the high school audience. Local radio station WERE disc jockey Tommy Edwards took a photograph of Haley and Presley together and Haley hung it on the wall in his office in Chester and his home, Melody Manor, in Booth’s Corner. This gig was a “free-bee,” indicating the respect that The Comets and the other major acts had for Randle, including the young and nervous Elvis, making his first appearance in the North. Prior to taking the stage, he turned to Comets bassist Al Rex and said, “I hope these Yankees like my music.” The whereabouts of the footage has remained a mystery to this day.
Bill’s story of travelling with Elvis for several days and passing on fatherly advice is, however, exaggerated. He wanted to portray himself as someone more established helping the young kid and associating himself with Elvis’ later success. In truth, they only performed together on two dates, first at the Municipal Auditorium, Oklahoma City on October 16th when Elvis, with Scotty and Bill, was an added attraction on two shows headlined by Hank Snow and Bill Haley, and second at the “Sock Hop” at Brooklyn High School in Cleveland on October 20th. On the two intervening days, while Bill Haley’s whereabouts cannot be ascertained, Elvis, Scotty and Bill travelled to El Dorado, Arkansas to headline a hillbilly talent show on October 17th and the following night to the Circle Theatre, Cleveland Ohio, where they joined Roy Acuff, Kitty Wells and Johnny & Jack for two shows as an “extra added attraction.”
In Haley’s next reference to Presley, he recognizes the upper hand Elvis has, not only in the superior management of Colonel Tom Parker, but in the aggressive marketing, distribution, and support of their artist exhibited by RCA in Nashville compared to Haley’s label Decca in New York. From Bill’s Chapter 8:
Now for the first time I was being challenged for the title “The King of Rock & Roll” as another artist had exploded on the scene to challenge me. Guess who? Yes, my old buddy, Elvis, had come on like gangbusters as they used to say. RCA Records had mounted a tremendous publicity campaign and Elvis Presley records were bombarding the charts. I felt that Decca should match the RCA promotion, so Lord Jim and I went to New York to have a conference with the powers that be at Decca. We pleaded our case, but ran up against a stone wall. We were told that the company had a policy of treating all their artists equally, and if they gave us extra promotion, they would have to do this for all the others. I had great respect for my record company, and especially for Milt Gabler; and although I still felt that they should match the promotion of RCA for Elvis, there was no other choice for me but to go along with their decision.
The next Presley account finds Haley coming to the realization that the rock ’n’ roll race track now had lots of drivers and he was not necessarily the pace car. The music he felt he invented was now morphing into a number of substyles, including that of the commercially manufactured teen idols. From Bill’s Chapter 9, “Elvis was really hitting his stride. Such new acts as Jerry Lee Lewis, Ricky Nelson, Bo Diddley. The Everly Brothers and Tommy Sands were bursting upon the scene, and we worked with many of them.”
Perhaps the most celebrated meeting between Haley and Presley was during The Comets’ European tour in 1958. To the chagrin of his fans and management, and at the height of his career to that point, Elvis Presley had joined the Army and was stationed at a base near Friedberg when Bill and the Comets arrived in Frankfurt, Germany on October 23rd for a series of concerts in major German cities. Elvis showed up in uniform and was admitted backstage to Haley’s dressing room. It was a fleeting visit (Bill had to get to another show that night in Wiesbaden.) There is a famous photograph of the dressing room where Elvis sits as Haley tunes his guitar in preparation for his performance. Comets drummer Ralph Jones recalled Elvis telling members of the band, “You know, if it weren’t for you boys, I’d still be driving a truck back in Memphis.” Jerry Lee Lewis’ similarly said to Haley, “Without you, we’d all be driving trucks,” probably referencing Elvis.
After what must have been a very brief meeting, Elvis made a second visit to the show in Mannheim on October 24th, where he was photographed (out of his Army uniform and wearing a suit and tie) by well-known photographer Günther Thomas with members of the band, as well as seated at the piano with the Comets’ bass player, Al Pompilli on bass behind him. There is also a photo of Elvis with supporting act Kurt Edelhagen and Elvis’ father, Vernon Presley, in the shot. Elvis’s third and final visit took place on October 29th at the Killesburg Halle in Stuttgart.
As we move through the 1960s, Haley and Presley were, in a way, sharing a similar conundrum, and had their respective “revivals” toward the end of the decade. While Bill and The Comets were languishing away playing joints for low pay and recording largely unimpressive fodder, Elvis had returned from the Army to be basically trapped in a movie contract with 20th Century Fox, making a series of mediocre movies and victim to equally mediocre songs written for them. Elvis came back out into the light of day with his NBC television broadcast simply titled Elvis but later dubbed the ‘68 Comeback Special (December 3rd) about the same time that Bill resurfaced in a big way, touring Europe, then the next year in the U.S. through the Richard Nader rock ’n’ roll revival concerts.
Elvis and his manager Tom Parker knew that he had not performed a live stage show in years and, in 1969, they contracted a four-week residency at the International Hotel in Las Vegas for a whopping $500,000 — the equivalent of $3.5 million in 2020 — a week. This hearkens back to 1956, when he was contracted for a two-week engagement at Las Vegas’ New Frontier Hotel for $7,500 a week. Performing for a sold-out crowd of 2,000 at the first show on July 31st, Presley ultimately performed more than 700 sold-out shows through 1976 and became synonymous with Las Vegas, much as one of his heroes, Frank Sinatra, had.
Bill Haley was making his way back to Las Vegas as well, though on a significantly smaller scale. The Comets did a revival show for several nights at the Flamingo Hilton Hotel in late August/early September of 1972, sharing the bill with a number of other revival acts. Elvis was also in town, performing at the Hilton Hotel. Bill Turner (the Comets’ lead guitarist from 1974 to 1976) remembers seeing a photograph of Elvis with Bill and the Comets taken in Las Vegas at the time and Hugh McCallum reports that Bill had mentioned meeting Elvis, but in a rather vague way that did not inspire any more inquiry. It is not known whether Elvis was visiting Bill, or the other way around, and the photograph has disappeared into the mists of time and remains purely a memory and a tantalizing footnote to this story.
Elvis resumed live performing in the Summer of 1969 with a month of performances at the International Hotel in Las Vegas. In 1970 he embarked on a grueling tour that combined major tours of the U.S. with more residencies in Las Vegas. This pattern continued through 1977. In June that year he returned to his home, Graceland, in Memphis to rest up and prepare for the next leg of his concert touring that would start in Portland, Maine and end up back in Memphis at the Mid-South Coliseum on August 28th. That final show in his hometown was never to take place. He died in his home in the early morning hours of August 16th.
The year before, Bill Haley’s dear friend and colleague, saxophonist Rudy Pompilli, died, sending Bill into retirement. The news of Elvis’ death impacted Bill with the same dichotomy as his buddy/competition view he had of him all through their careers. Their careers had gone so far apart in their level of success that Elvis’ death certainly didn’t open any doors of opportunity for a Comets comeback, but Bill did take it upon himself to come out of retirement in 1979 to carry the torch as the representative of early (to him, real) rock ’n’ roll now that “the king was dead.” To the end of his days, even in his ramblings on his solitary trips to Sambo’s Restaurant in Harlingen, Bill continued to both proudly align himself with Elvis and to cast his bitterness. Beaten down by psychological problems, chain smoking, and alcoholism, Haley died on February 9, 1981 at age 55.
In comparing Bill Haley and Elvis Presley, we conclude that each has a distinctive place in rock ’n’ roll and that each developed his own version of it. While growing up in two distant regions of the United States, both had similar early musical influences but, through different circumstances and shaping by managers and record producers, came up with unique musical products that would capture the imagination and devotion of a generation. Bill had the historical advantage in that he was older, got in the rock ’n’ roll game earlier, and was actually an inspiration and influence on young Presley. Presley had the advantage with his youth, good looks, and better management both in personal promotion and in the recording studio. Even though they only met a couple of times over the span of their life and careers, Bill Haley and Elvis Presley will always be inextricably linked in rock ’n’ roll history as The Father and The King.
David Deacon-Joyner and Chris Gardner are currently working on a new biography of Bill Haley, commissioned by the Haley estate. Their previous article, “The Boss and the King: An Unlikely Friendship at the Birth of Rock ’n’ Roll,” about the relationship between Haley and blues singer Big Joe Turner, is also available on Medium.com.