Throughout his career, Elvis Presley mastered so many talents. He was a musician, actor, dancer and — of course — martial artist. Elvis’ passion for karate played out on the streets of Madison in the late 1970s, just before he played his final show in Wisconsin at the Dane County Coliseum.
In honor of what would have been Elvis’ 90th birthday, writer Dean Robbins takes us back to that fateful moment in Wisconsin music history.
(Editor’s note: This story originally aired on August 15, 2012 to commemorate the 35th anniversary of Elvis’s death.)
==
The Elvis Presley story has religious overtones. A poor boy is endowed with divine talent, then rises from obscurity to become a rock ‘n roll God.
I’m a true believer myself. I’ve even made pilgrimages to the Elvis shrines in the South, his birthplace in Tupelo and Graceland, his home in Memphis. Many Elvis fans will flock to those sacred sites this year for the 35th anniversary of his death. But Wisconsinites needn’t go that far to observe the solemn occasion. We have a sacred site of our own right in Madison, not as well known as Graceland, but authentic nonetheless.
At a busy intersection on the east side of town, a small stone marker bears Elvis’ image. It stands on the spot where the King of Rock ‘n Roll performed a real miracle in the middle of the night on June 24, 1977.
Elvis had just flown into Madison for a concert and he was still wearing a sparkly jumpsuit.
On the way to a hotel, his limousine stopped at a fateful intersection East Washington Avenue and Highway 51. Elvis looked out the window and at the corner gas station, he saw two guys beating up a teenager. He flung open the car door.
“I can’t let this happen,” he said, in savior mode. Over the strenuous objections of his bodyguard, he strode toward the attackers.
Now, remember, this was the summer of 1977. Our hero was overweight and ailing, but he did have a black belt in karate and a not unwarranted confidence in his power to change the course of human affairs. One can only imagine how the villains felt when a sparkling man approached them, throwing karate kicks and shouting, “I’ll take you on.” One can only imagine their shame when they realized it was Elvis Presley himself who had caught them in an evil act.
They stopped in mid-punch and their victim fled to safety. After such an otherworldly experience. I wouldn’t be surprised if the two thugs vowed to reform right on the spot. As odd bystanders watched in wonder, Elvis shook hands all around, jumped back in his limousine and vanished into the night. Police officers and newspaper reporters showed up later to make sense of the visitation.
The gas station rescue was the last miracle of Elvis’ life. He died less than two months later. But Wisconsin still has the corner of East Washington Avenue and Highway 51 to remind us that he once walked among us performing extraordinary feats.
I’ve stood there more than once, staring at the patch of ground where the gas station used to be. I swear that even as traffic whizzes by, you can feel the King’s presence.
