This work is a southern memoir. What that means is that this work is, by definition made up almost but not quite entirely of suspiciously unverified events. It features somewhat exaggerated drama and some very questionable characters. (For the record, I have never actually met Elvis.)
This memoir is a roux made of equal parts fact and fiction liberally seasoned with healthy measures of exaggeration, fabrication, and a few outright lies. The story is set in Jonesboro Arkansas and the Mid-South during the years following the devastating tornado that sturck Jonesboro in May of 1973. This story takes poetic license to an absurd, almost criminal extreme. In keeping with the greatest of southern traditions, the Author has never been one to let the truth get in the way of a good story.