“I WASN’T IMPRESSED BY ELVIS” — THEN MYRNA SMITH SPENT 8 YEARS BESIDE THE KING AND REVEALED THE TRUTH
At first, Myrna Smith wasn’t impressed by Elvis Presley.
She had heard Love Me Tender. She knew Hound Dog. She knew the image, the famous moves, the blue suede shoes, and the enormous reputation. But when the idea of working with Elvis first came up, her reaction was anything but starstruck.
She wondered what a sophisticated gospel-and-soul vocal group could possibly have in common with a rock-and-roll superstar.
That skepticism makes what happened next almost unbelievable.
Myrna Smith would eventually spend eight years singing only a few feet behind Elvis Presley, watching his performances from a perspective almost no ordinary fan could ever experience. And when she later tried to describe those years, one word kept coming back:
Magical.
So how did she go from “I wasn’t impressed” to “I loved him”?
The answer begins with the Sweet Inspirations, a remarkable vocal group whose musical history was already impressive long before Elvis entered the picture.
The group came out of the world of R&B, soul, and gospel. Their original leader was Cissy Houston, the future mother of Whitney Houston. The Sweet Inspirations had worked with some of the biggest names in popular music, providing background vocals for artists including Aretha Franklin, Dusty Springfield, Wilson Pickett, and Van Morrison.
They were not inexperienced singers waiting for someone famous to rescue them.
They were professionals.
So when hundreds of Elvis records arrived for them to study, they were almost amused.
Why would they need so much preparation?
They were background singers. They could learn material quickly.
But beneath the laughter was a genuine question: Why Elvis?
Their musical world was deeply rooted in gospel and soul. Elvis was the King of Rock and Roll. On paper, the combination seemed strange.
Then came the first rehearsal.
And everything changed.
The woman who had dismissed Elvis as a novelty suddenly heard something she had never fully understood from his records.
She heard Elvis live.
Myrna later recalled being blown away. Suddenly, the excitement surrounding him made sense. The voice, the presence, the energy—none of it translated quite the same way through a record.
She was witnessing something different.
And the timing could hardly have been more dramatic.
In 1969, Elvis was returning to the live stage after years away. His Las Vegas engagement at the International Hotel represented one of the biggest moments of his career. After years dominated by Hollywood films and recording projects, he was stepping back in front of a live audience.
And Myrna was standing just behind him.
What makes her memories so fascinating is that she didn’t simply see the superstar.
She saw the human being underneath the legend.
Before opening night, Elvis was reportedly nervous. The pressure was enormous. He was returning to live performance after an eight-year absence, surrounded by expectations that few entertainers could have handled.
Then he walked onto the stage.
The fear disappeared behind the performance.
For Myrna, that became one of the great lessons of working with Elvis: being afraid did not mean you could not walk into the spotlight. You could be nervous, uncertain, even trembling—and still give everything you had.
But the relationship between Elvis and the Sweet Inspirations was about more than music.
For the singers, their years on the road had included the difficult realities of the R&B circuit. They had performed in clubs and theaters where being a headliner did not always mean being financially secure. Sometimes performers worked hard and still struggled to get paid properly.
Working with Elvis changed that.
The Sweet Inspirations were treated as valued professionals. Their travel was arranged. Their band was supported. Their clothing and musical arrangements were handled. They knew that when Elvis worked, they would work too.
For musicians who had spent years dealing with uncertainty, that stability mattered enormously.
But there was another challenge.
Not everyone approved of their decision to work with Elvis.
Some members of the Black community questioned why a Black R&B and gospel group would stand behind the biggest white rock-and-roll star in America.
Myrna, however, had something those critics did not have:
Personal experience with Elvis.
She judged him by how he treated her.
And according to her memories, he treated the Sweet Inspirations with extraordinary warmth.
She remembered Elvis coming to their dressing room after shows simply to say goodnight. He didn’t have to do that. He was the star. They were part of his backing ensemble.
Yet he made the effort.
That small gesture told Myrna something much bigger about the man.
She began to see Elvis not as the cartoonish rock-and-roll figure she had once imagined, but as someone who cared deeply about the people around him.
She also discovered his spiritual side.
Elvis was deeply influenced by gospel music and spent much of his life searching for spiritual meaning. Gospel wasn’t merely another musical style to him. It was part of his foundation.
That helps explain why the Sweet Inspirations were such an important part of his stage sound.
Elvis wasn’t simply putting together a collection of famous musicians.
He was building a musical world.
There was gospel. There was soul. There was rock and roll. There were male gospel singers, musicians, and a full orchestra.
What initially looked like a strange combination was actually deliberate.
And somehow, it worked.
More importantly, the people involved began to feel like a family.
Myrna eventually realized that the people surrounding Elvis were not necessarily there because they were freeloaders or opportunists. Many were there because Elvis wanted them there.
She saw the relationships from the inside.
And after years beside him, she reached a conclusion that completely reversed her first impression.
Elvis had become one of the loves of her life.
“He treated me like a princess,” she recalled, describing the affection and respect she felt from him.
That is the remarkable transformation at the center of Myrna Smith’s story.
She began as a skeptic.
She questioned the music.
She wondered what they could possibly sing with Elvis.
Then she heard him live.
She witnessed his comeback.
She watched him step onto the stage despite his nerves.
She experienced his generosity.
She saw his spiritual side.
She became part of his inner working family.
And eventually, the musical mismatch that once seemed almost ridiculous became something she described as magical.
Perhaps that is what makes Myrna Smith’s memories so powerful.
She wasn’t a lifelong Elvis fanatic looking backward through rose-colored glasses.
She was skeptical when she first met him.
She had doubts.
She wasn’t impressed.
But then she saw the man behind the image.
And sometimes, the people who begin with the strongest doubts are the ones who can recognize a transformation most clearly.
Myrna Smith thought she knew who Elvis Presley was before she ever stood beside him.
Eight years later, she knew better.
The King of Rock and Roll had become something much more personal—a colleague, a friend, a source of inspiration, and, in her words, someone who made the experience magical.
The strangest part of the story may be the simplest:
She almost missed it because she thought it was the wrong fit.
Sometimes the greatest chapters of our lives begin with the opportunities we almost turn down.
