In my cynical early 20s, I thought the fandom would make for a novel story. But the community’s joy was so contagious I ended up joining it
It’s often said that watching Elvis Presley was a religious experience. He sent women into fits and presided over his disciples, singing gospel and gently blessing them with silk scarves. I’m not a religious person but in 2016 – 39 years after Elvis died – I saw the neon light.
This was also, not coincidentally, the year I gained sympathy for journalists who pursue stories about cults which they then end up joining.
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