Marion Keisker -- Giving a Kid Named Elvis a Break

 

 

Sam Phillips, Elvis Presley, and Marion Keisker

Elvis Presley: Ma'am, this is where they make all those R&B Records, right? Rufus Thomas? The Prisonaires?
Marion Keisker: That's us.
Elvis Presley: Oh ma'am, I like those records a whole lot. I was wonderin', ma'am, if... if anyone needed a singer or somethin'.
Marion Keisker: What kind of a singer are you?
Elvis Presley: I sing all kinds.
Marion Keisker: You sing hillbilly?
Elvis Presley: I sing hillbilly.
Marion Keisker: Country?
Elvis Presley: I sing country.
Marion Keisker: Okay, who do you sound like?
Elvis Presley: I don't sound like nobody, ma'am.

 Sun Records, American television miniseries (2017)

I love a great rock and roll story, and this is one of the best. It is about someone who wasn't as well known for any of her great talents – broadcasting, theater, writing, the military and women’s rights – as she was for her perseverance. Marion Keisker was surely the proverbial “jack of all trades.” However, she should be most remembered as the woman responsible for the birth of rock and roll.

Marion Keisker was a native Memphian, born there on September 23, 1917. She made her radio debut in 1929 at the age of 12, appearing on WREC's weekly children's hour “Wynken, Blynken & Nod.” She graduated from Southwestern College, majoring in English and Medieval French. She married in 1939 and moved to Illinois where she lived until her divorce in 1943. 

That year Marion and her son moved back to her hometown of Memphis. By 1946, she joined radio station WREC, where she became a popular radio personality with her daily 'Kitty Kelly' talk show. She wrote, produced and directed fourteen other programs as well. Her talent was evident, and her career was on the rise. Marion was strong-willed, beautiful, and intelligent … and struggling to be a modern woman.

It was at WREC that Marion met the legendary Sam Phillips. They worked closely together, broadcasting big bands from the Peabody Hotel's Skyway Room.

The Keisker/Phillips connection was firmly solidified at The Memphis Recording Service. Marion also helped Sam set up and operate his own recording studio on Union Avenue. Phillips said, “One day we were riding along and saw that spot on Union. I said, 'That's the spot I want.' With many difficulties we got the place, and we raised the money, and between us, we did everything.”

(Peter Guralnick. Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley. 1995.)

Marion and Sam even did all the work themselves – laying the tile, painting the acoustic boards and setting up the limited amount of equipment Sam had. Marion said, “I put in the bathroom, Sam put in the control room – what little equipment he had always had to be the best."

The studio, named The Memphis Recording Service, opened in January 1950 with Marion working as office manager while still working part-time at WREC to make ends meet. Marion was the organizer while Sam was the creative force. She kept track of the musicians and contacted them for sessions. She kept a log of the sessions, paid the musicians and was contact person for the pressing plants and distributors.

In a later interview, Marion said of the studio, “I scrubbed the floors, did the publicity, the works.” While she was sometimes referred to as secretary, she said, “It’s ok if they’ll also say I was office manager, assistant engineer, and general Jane of all trades.”

(April Tucker. “First to Record Elvis – Marion Keisker.” Sound Girls. 2021.)

What many people do not know is that Marion Keisker helped guide every aspect of the studio's creative and commercial direction as it developed in the early 1950s. In fact, she was Phillips' sole assistant and employee when he started the business.

Keisker said, “We got the place; we raised the money; and between us we did everything,” She kept the business records and organized the distribution strategy. She “handled much of the day-to-day contact with distributors and pressing plants,” described Sun historian Colin Escott, and “nurtured the distribution network and radio contacts that would serve as a launching pad for Sun Records.”

(Colin Escott. Good Rockin' Tonight: Sun Records and the Birth of Rock 'N' Roll. 2017.)

Fate And Circumstance

In August 1953, fresh out of his high school graduation the previous June, an eighteen-year-old named Elvis Presley dropped by The Memphis Recording Service. Keisker was alone in the office at the time. He aimed to pay for a few minutes of studio time to record a two-sided acetate disc: "My Happiness" and "That's When Your Heartaches Begin.”

Marion assisted Presley and asked him what kind of singer he was. He responded, "I sing all kinds." When she pressed him on whom he sounded like, he repeatedly answered, "I don't sound like nobody." According to Keisker, she operated the studio’s Rek-O-Kut direct to disk lathe and also ran the mono recorder.

After he recorded, Phillips asked Keisker to note down the young man's name, which she did along with her own commentary: "Good ballad singer. Hold." She was intrigued by this “unusual looking and sounding young man.” He was shy and his behavior incongrous with slicked-up greasy hair and loud flashy clothes.

Presley asked Marion if she knew of a band that needed a singer. She did not. Then, he paid $3.98 for an acetate with two sides, both ballads.

Presley would later claim he intended the record as a gift for his mother, or was merely interested in what he "sounded like,” though there was a much cheaper, amateur record-making service at a nearby general store – W. T. Grant's on Main Street. If he had simply wanted to record his voice, he could have paid twenty-five cents there. Biographer Peter Guralnick argues that he chose Sun in the hope of being discovered.

Guralnick says …

"But, of course, … instead, Elvis went to a professional facility, where a man who had been written up in the papers would hear him sing. There is little question that he stepped through the doorway [at 706 Union] with the idea, if not of stardom . . . at the very least of being discovered.

(Peter Guralnick. Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley. 1995.)

Although much has been written on who actually physically recorded Elvis Presley – Marion Keisker or Sam Phillips – it is apparent to me that biographers emphasize it was Keisker who is responsible for pursuing the talent of the man who would become the King of Rock and Roll.

Elvis made an impression on Keisker which she later remembered well, especially his answer to her question about which hillbilly singer he sounded like. Presley dropped by 706 Union a number of times after that initial meeting to see if Ms. Keisker had any leads for him.

Then, in January 1954, Presley paid for a second personal record – a demo acetate of “My Happiness” and “That’s When Your Heartaches Begin” for a cost of about $4.00.

Elvis tried out for a professional band that spring. Eddie Bond (1933-2003), the band leader, told him to keep driving a truck because he would never make it as a singer. Presley later revealed that Bond's rejection "broke my heart."

(Peter Guralnick. Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley. 1995.)

What happened next is recorded in “Elvis Presley: Biography” from Sun Records ...

“In the summer of 1954 at Marion Keisker’s suggestion, Sam Phillips called Elvis into the studio to try singing a song Sam hoped to put out on record. The song was “Without You” and Elvis didn't sing it to Sam’s satisfaction.

“Sam asked Elvis what he could sing, and Elvis ran through a number of popular tunes. Sam was impressed enough to team Elvis up with local musicians Scotty Moore (guitar) and Bill Black (bass) to see if they, together, could come up with something worthwhile.

“Nothing really clicked until July 5, when after a tedious session, Elvis and the guys broke into a sped-up version of Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup’s “That’s All Right.” This song, backed with “Blue Moon of Kentucky” became the first of five singles Elvis would release on the Sun label. The songs were on the radio less than a week later.”

(“Elvis Presley: Biography.” Sun Records. www.sunrecords.com. 2021.)

All along it was Keisker who recognized that the young man who “didn’t sound like nobody” possessed a unique talent and could fit into the emergent Sun Records musical strategy of genre-blending southern music. Even as Sam Phillips grew weary of Presley as his early recordings failed to catch fire, it was Keisker who continued to encourage the young singer to bring more material to Sun and insisted that Phillips follow through on his idea to pair Presley with musicians Scotty Moore and Bill Black.

After Sun, Marion Keisker joined the U.S. Air Force. Elvis had not seen her for many years when in 1960 March 1st Elvis spotted her, Captain Marion (Keisker) MacInnes was stationed in Germany. Elvis told her, "I don't know whether to kiss you or salute! We would not be having a press conference if it weren't for this Lady."

At the Jaycees Ten Outstanding young men of America 1970 awards which Elvis was one, Elvis saw her there and invited her to his table and introduced her to his wife Priscilla and his entourage, telling them "she is the one who made it all possible. Without her I would not even be here."

Years later, Elvis would be quick to remind anyone who would ask that it was in fact Marion Keisker not Sam Phillips who saw his potential.

(“Elvis Presley: Biography.” Sun Records. www.sunrecords.com. 2021.)

In my mind, it doesn't really matter whether Keisker recorded Elvis first. Marion’s claim to be the first to record Elvis did not waver (other than minor details) from that time until her death in 1989.

Conversely, Sam didn’t comment about the recording until 1979. In 1986, Sam Phillips did an interview with Rolling Stone Magazine during which he said of the recording, “Well, I would love to say Marion did it. She did an awful lot for me, man. I mean we painted floors together. I wouldn’t take anything away from Marion Keisker. And I think she made the statement inadvertently. I don’t want to make Marion look bad on the thing. I wish you’d just drop it, ’cause I don’t care who it was. But it was simply me. That’s all.”

(Elizabeth Kaye. “Sam Phillips: The Rolling Stone Interview.” Rolling Stone. February 13, 1986.)

Professionals like April Tucker – with a Master’s Degree and a Bachelor’s Degree in Sound Recording, who has over 15 years experience and works primarily as a re-recording mixer and sound editor (based in Los Angeles) – have sought out the truth. Tucker tried, without success, to find someone to collaborate Marion's story. She could have operated the recording lathe, but no one was in the studio to see her do it. Tucker says, “All I can offer by way of explanation is Marion’s view of memory as a fleeting and fungible thing.”

Tucker continues: “Keisker said, 'I’ve really become very much conscious and preoccupied with the subject of memory, How subjective it is, how protective it is. It wasn’t that we didn’t know that things were happening, it’s just that there wasn’t enough time and energy [to write it down].'”

(April Tucker. “First to Record Elvis – Marion Keisker.” Sound Girls. 2021.)

Besides, to work in an environment like Sun Studios, you have to be committed – whether it’s to your career, the music, or to the people you’re working with. And, there’s no doubt Marion’s commitment was to Sam … at least at that time. This makes her efforts focus even harder on the product. With true dedication, she pursued what she judged to be a human being worthy of success.

Even if Marion didn’t do the actual recording, there weren’t many recording studios back then let alone women working in them which still makes her story incredible. Tucker then asks the necessary question: Why is she so often credited as Sam’s secretary or personal assistant, then?

Sheila O'Malley, film critic for Rogerebert.com, put her role in perspective this way …

“Marion Keisker had a sense about Elvis Presley from her first meeting with the teenager. Certainly his singing didn’t blow her away, although there was … something … about him. She thought he would be good for ballads (ironic, considering what eventually happened). But more than that she sensed that he was somehow, as a person, so “ingenuous that there was no way he could go wrong.”

(Sheila O'Malley. “Marion Keisker: “My Total Image of Elvis …” The Sheila Variations. December 11, 2011.)

To me, it's apparent that Marion Keisker was the muse that helped establish not only the career of Elvis Presley but also the recordings that launched his storied and unparalleled career. Doesn't it take a true believer to push the envelope of an individual's success? As the lady who supplied that impetus, Keisler could be considered the mothering influence of the entire genre.

Marion Keisker once said this about Elvis …

“My total image of Elvis was as a child. His attitude towards people was the equivalent of tipping your hat as you walk down the street – ‘Good evening, ma’am, good evening, sir’ – but not showing off. He never said a wrong thing from the very first night he appeared on the Dewey Phillips show – he was like a mirror in a way: whatever you were looking for, you were going to find in him. It was not in him to lie or say anything malicious. He had all the intricacy of the very simple.”

Marion’s Legacy

Marion Keisker died December 29, 1989 in Memphis. She became noted for her work with the Memphis chapter of the National Organization for Women. She was chapter president. Her correspondence is archived at the Memphis Public Library

Even with her accolades, Marion is often presented in the Sun Records story as merely a personal assistant or secretary to Sam Phillips. While Marion has been recognized by women’s rights organizations, Elvis historians and fan clubs all over the world, her contribution to the audio and radio community has largely gone unknown. Marion Keisker was one of the pioneers of women.

Historical Note:

What about that Elvis recording today? In 2015, Jack White anonymously purchased the acetate disk of Elvis’s 1953 recording in an auction for $300,000. The recording was digitally transferred by Alan Stoker.

Presley’s friend Ed Leek claimed to have given the 18-year-old singer $4 to pay for the recording, The acetate – the only one in existence – was put up for sale by Leek’s niece.

Jack White offered a limited-run vinyl re-release of “My Happiness” and “That’s When Your Heartaches Begin” at his Third Man Records in Nashville. The 10in, 78-rpm facsimile of the 1953 recording was digitally transferred from the original acetate on to new vinyl discs with no cleanup – pops, crackles and all.

“It’s exactly what came off the grooves,” Third Man’s Ben Blackwell said.

The record was being sold, for Record Store Day, in a plain paper sleeve because that’s “what Elvis would have walked out of Sun with a record in,” Blackwell said.

(“First Elvis recording re-released by Jack White – and fans in Nashville rejoice.” The Guardian. Associated Press. April 18, 2015.)