Once I traveled from the rock strewn hills of the Missouri Ozarks down into the Arkansas mountains and across to the Delta of the great Mississippi River. Our car carried us across to Memphis, to Beale Street where the music never stopped and to Elvis Presley’s estate of Graceland. It sounds strange now but we rode a bus from the center across the street to the mansion and that night we stayed in a hotel so near that we could stand on the balcony and see Graceland ...