I was in Noblesville, Indiana, a quiet little town about 25 miles north of Indianapolis. My mother and grandmother took me into a drugstore. We sat down in a booth and ordered drinks. While we were waiting for our orders, a man came into the store holding something and went over to see another man sitting near the front window. He was excited about whatever treasure he had. He and the other man talked for a few minutes, then the first man left.
As we sat there with our drinks the story floated through the place. This was big-time stuff for little ole Noblesville. According to what we heard, none other than Elvis Presley had come through town and had a problem with his car. The guy we had seen come in the front made the repair on Elvis' car and kept the old part he had replaced.
That was my near-brush with Elvis. I was in the same room with a defective part from his car. This was very early in Elvis' career, but I still like to think it was the pink Cadillac.