BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN: I could not imagine that guy dying. He was so incredibly important to me, to go on and do what I want to do. When I heard the news it was like somebody took a piece out of me.

He was not primitive, like people think. He was an artist and he was into being an artist. Of course, he was also into rockin' his ass, but that was part of it. Onstage, he encompassed everything — he was laughing at the world, and he was laughing at himself, but at the same time, he was dead serious.

When we played Memphis, we decided we wanted to get something to eat after the show. We told the cab driver, take us some place quiet. He said, "Are you guys celebrities?" Yeah. So he said he'd take us out along the highway, by Elvis' house. I said, "You gotta take me to Elvis' house." He says, "Okay. Do you mind if I call the dispatcher and tell him where we're going?" So he calls the guy, says, "We got some celebrities here. We got..." and he shoves the mike in my face, so I say, "Bruce Springsteen." They didn't know who I was, but they were pretendin' to, you know? He told the dispatcher we were going to Elvis' house; he was crackin' up because the dispatcher thought we were gonna drink coffee with Elvis.

When we got to the gate, I looked through. It was three a.m., but all the lights in the house were on. I said, "I gotta go see if he's home." So I climbed over and started up the driveway; it's a long walk 'cause the house is set way back. And I was almost at the front door, just getting ready to knock, when I see this guy looking at me from the trees. He says, "Hey, come here a minute." I said, "Is Elvis here?" He said no, he was in Lake Tahoe or somewhere. Well, now I'm pullin' out all the cheap shots I can think of — you know, I was on Time, I play guitar, Elvis is my hero — all the things I never say to anybody. Because I figure I've gotta get a message through. But he just said, "Yeah, sure. Why don't you let me walk you down to the gate. You gotta get out of here." He thought I was just another crazy fan — which I was.

To me, he was as big as the whole country itself, as big as the whole dream. He just embodied the essence of it and he was in mortal combat with the thing. It was horrible and, at the same time, it was fantastic. Nothing will ever take the place of that guy. Like I used to say when I introduced one of his songs: "There have been a lotta tough guys. There have been pretenders. There have been con-tenders. But there is only one King."

CHET ATKINS: I set the session for the afternoon, and he came in with pink trousers with blue stripes and he was real nice. He'd "yes sir" and "no sir" you to death, and he still does. He was very respectful, a little too much. He was singing and split his pants. One of his boys went to get him another pair and he threw the split pair in the corner. A girl who was working for the Methodist Publishing Company in the same building asked what to do with the pants, and I told her she better hang onto them, that boy's gonna be famous. She said naw, and six months later there she was on I've Got a Secret with Elvis' pants.

STEVE CROPPER: I went out to the house a lot, and we would play pool, go to the movies — he'd rent the Memphian Theater and show movies all night. He was so generous. People would drive up to the movies and he'd throw 'em a set of keys. People he thought needed a car, say. Or like my friend Bill Browder. Last year, Elvis called him in and gave him his $60,000 touring bus. Said, "Here, I don't need this anymore, and you can use it." Elvis was always doing something nice.

A lot of people used to put Elvis down, say he held the guitar like a prop. But he could make his way through all right, and he could play piano a bit, too. When we played together, in fact, I was surprised at how much he did know. But the real thing was his way of crying out a lyric in a song; it was the same thing with Otis.

I remember the first or second time I went to Graceland — this would be around '63 or '64 and I was pretty young. Now all his cohorts, his bodyguards and friends, would call Elvis "E." They'd say, "E did this" or "E did that" or "E just bought a new Cadillac." And I just picked it up. So I'm up at the house, and I sort of say across the room, "Hey E." He gave me a stare that nailed me to the wall. He didn't want to be known as E; he wanted to be known as Elvis, and nothing else.