BIG EL’s BIG AL HAS LEFT THE BUILDING…
I found it fittingly odd that our Teen Scene columnist, Jackie Klapak, should choose to write this month on the values of friendship she has learned in her short 16 years on this Earth. As I read her words, when they came in on the 16th of August, I found myself realizing that I was guilty of one of the things she wrote about –– being too busy to stay in touch as I should with my old friends –– and I vowed to change that, as soon as deadline days were over...of course. Sadly, putting off a phone call for even a day or two can have drastic consequences sometimes. One should never put off saying something what needs to be said, because often one never gets another opportunity to say it. On August 23, I realized that a full week had passed since I had read Jackie’s column, and that I had not kept my promise to myself. Since I was already at the computer and since I was due to go to the post office that afternoon to collect whatever might be awaiting me in our P.O. Box, I figured it was high time to fire off a short note to my old friend Al Dvorin. I had met Al a number of years ago at one of the Elvis Presley Fantasy Festivals that are put on every year in Portage to raise funds for our local Special Olympics athletes.
A resident of Chicago, Al became a valuable source to me as a music journalist when it came to my writing about the early rock scene, and in particular, the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. While passionate Elvis Presley fans know Al Dvorin by name, few are really aware of his place in rock ‘n’ roll history. Fewer yet know that Dvorin was a successful Big Band leader in the 1940s and 1950s; was a major booking agent and concert promoter; and even had a hand in bringing into our living rooms in the 1970s, the beloved Chicago-produced PBS children’s program, “Cartoon Town with BJ & Dirty Dragon.” However, one would be hard pressed to find a person anywhere in the civilized world who has not heard Dvorin’s immortal phrase –– “Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has left the building!” He coined that famous line early on in his 30-plus year career with Presley. Dvorin was more than just a pitch man for the King, for three decades he had been the right hand man to Presley’s lifetime manager, Colonel Tom Parker. As such, Al handled a variety of duties for Elvis’s organization over the years –– bookings, merchandising, advertising, payroll, trouble-shooting, etc. Dvorin was an avid multi-tasker, before that term had even been coined. It had been a couple of months since Al and I had actually spoke, but he had left me a couple of phone messages over the last few weeks. One was in late June, to send his condolences upon learning I had recently lost my mother. The other came in late July, and was just to let me know that he was still “on the go as always” and that he was thinking about me after having received the latest issue of Midwest BEAT. For one reason or another, I just never got around to returning either of his calls. I was determined to make up for that as I opened up my computer’s Word Perfect program to compose a short letter to send to him, along with a few recent articles I had written that I thought he might enjoy. Just then a heartbreaking email found its way into my “in box”. It was from my buddy Jon, who like me is a huge Elvis Presley fan. I had not heard from Jon in quite some time either, so I figured I had best read it first and see what was on his mind. His email informed me that the night before, Al Dvorin, had been killed in an automobile accident near Ivanpah, California. It seems that Al had been returning late at night down a twisting back road after hosting a big California Elvis event. Even though Al was 81-years-old, he stayed active and busy. The man was amazing and I often found myself envying his energy and drive. Al Dvorin became more than just a “source” to me. Al became a close and trusted family friend. We discussed on several occasions that we would have to sit down together one day, when time allowed, and scribe his memoirs. Time was something neither of us seemed to ever have much of, because of the busy schedules we both kept. Though his health had been failing a bit, Dvorin’s mind remained a steel trap. He could fire off the minutest details surrounding a Elvis-related situation or event. He was a fabulous oral historian. One of the things Al was most proud of, was having masterminded the Elvis Presley concert of March 25, 1961 at Bloch Arena in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. That show –– which also featured performances by Opry legend Minnie Pearl, saxophonist Boots Randolph and honky tonk piano man, Floyd Cramer –– raised $63,000 to help build the now famous U.S.S. Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor. I heard the whole fascinating story behind the making of that historic concert when Dvorin and I co-wrote a feature for “Elvis International Magazine” in 2000, commemorating the fortieth anniversary of the event. Not only was Dvorin’s famous line the signature closing of live Presley performances, it lived on after Presley’s death on August 16, 1977. It has become a pop culture catch phrase. “When Elvis left the stage, I went on and reminded people to buy a program, t-shirt or button,” he explained. “Fans would be hanging around thinking Elvis would come back for an encore, but he was already long gone by that point. So after making my sales pitch to a captive audience, I would disperse them by announcing, ‘Elvis has left the building...thank you and good night!’ ” It is Dvorin’s voice heard on Presley’s concert DVDs and live albums. It was Dvorin’s voice often heard in the years after his boss’s death at Elvis impersonator concerts, such as those held at Star Plaza Theatre and the Rosemont Theatre, where he served as stage emcee, sharing Elvis stories with Presley fans. It’s Dvorin’s digitized voice that is heard on the Stern Company’s pinball arcade game, “Elvis Pinball.” It is Dvorin’s voice that is still on my telephone answering machine. My friend concluded his last message to me with the customized line –– “Evidently, Tom Lounges has left the building!” I thought it was classic and had not erased it. I doubt I ever will now. Dvorin uttered his trademark line a final time only hours before his death, when closing out that California Elvis tribute concert. After that, he climbed into the car that would soon after swerve off a dark, winding desert road, flip over, and end his colorful life. According to the California Highway Patrol, Dvorin was thrown from the vehicle when it flipped. He died instantly. A photographer friend of Dvorin’s was reportedly driving and is said to be hospitalized in serious condition. The impact of Al’s sudden death and the sorrow I feel, is magnified all the more by my not having found the time to return his last call. I wish I had told him again how much I respected him and how much his friendship over the years had meant to me. Now the window of opportunity for doing that is closed forever. I wonder if perhaps it is more than simple coincidence that Jackie Klapak’s September column was about “friendship” and that it arrived a day after the usual 15th of the month deadline date. After all, it was on August 16, 1977 that Elvis died. That day that I promised myself to phone Al, until ultimately I wound up putting it off once again. If there is someone you need to say something to, want to visit with again, or simply miss. Take heed from this story and from Klapak’s column and get in contact with them –– NOW –– because sometimes tomorrow just never comes for some of us. Ladies and gentlemen, Al Dvorin has left the building, but he will never be forgotten. God bless Al Dvorin as he shuffles off this mortal coil to rejoin his former “big boss man” and tends to “takin’ care of business” on the other side of the Pearly Gates. Thanks for everything Al! | |||||||
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Being a wonderful and warm human being, Dvorin often would come out to these charity events and help out Fantasy Festival coordinator, Kay Lipps, in her efforts. Al was a popular guest with the Elvis fans, because he had an endless stream of stories to share. In a sense, Al was akin to being the Mark Twain of the Elvis world.