John Smith is the secret love child of Elvis Presley. And he has, he swears, the DNA evidence to prove it
By Robert L Pela  (Pheonix NewsTimes)
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John Smith, a sometime country singer and songwriter who lives in
Scottsdale, says he's coming clean this month in a new book detailing his
hush-hush life as the unheralded Prince of Rock 'n' Roll.

"Let the Boy Sing: Elvis Is My Daddy", from a tiny, pay-to-print publisher
in Oklahoma, reveals everything the world wants to know about the perks of
being Elvis' tug-of-love:

The trust fund, set up by Elvis for Smith when he was born. The music gigs,
playing with John Denver and Lawrence Welk, and the recording contract
which produced an LP with Elvis' label, RCA Records.

The chance to write songs for country superstars like Kenny Rogers and to
record an album with music legends who also recorded with Elvis. All these
cushy thrills, according to Smith's new book, were arranged by Elvis himself,
who kept tabs on his boy via a network of people who did the King's bidding.

And that's because John Smith is, he says, the son of the King.
"I've known
that Elvis is my daddy since I was 27 years old,"
says Smith, 51. "And there's
no one word that describes how it feels to finally tell the world the truth about
Smith's claims of an RCA
Records contract & LP, in fact
turns out to be this lone 45
rpm single on the tiny label
Adonda Records.
"The correct word is scary," according to Presley historian Cory Cooper, who's known in pop culture
circles as
"The Elvis Expert" and who recently served as technical adviser on director John
Fame and Fortune, an adaptation of Elvis: Still Taking Care of Business, a 2008
bestseller by Presley's former bodyguard.
"These people show up every few years, claiming to be Elvis'
son or daughter. The sad thing is that some of them actually believe it. Maybe they've been fed a story
all their lives about a one-night stand their mom had with Elvis, and they think it's true. Whatever the
story, they always have two things in common: They all swear they have birth certificates or DNA
evidence to prove their claim, and they all have a story about why they can't show you those things. And,
of course, the real reason they can't is because they don't have them. Their story isn't true."

True or not, Smith's book provides a fascinating read — perhaps not for Elvis fans or anyone who
actually cares whether Smith is the out-of-wedlock son of the world's most famous rock 'n' roller, but most
definitely for fans of unadulterated gall, tall tales, and lousy fact-checking. Because Smith's story — in
which he makes bogus claims about his life and career that three minutes' worth of Googling can refute
— proves to be, with very little digging, a hunk-a hunk-a burning crapola.

Almost everything in the book is a story either wildly exaggerated or completely made up. The album
deal with RCA Records turns out to be a pair of 45s released on a tiny indie label. The songs Smith says
he wrote for famous artists clearly were penned by others. His claims about performing on recordings by
John Denver appear also to be untrue, as Smith's name appears in none of the liner notes for any
Denver recording. Nor does Smith cough up any proof of an Elvis-sponsored trust fund. Filled with
inaccuracies, extrapolations, and flat-out lies,
Let the Boy Sing is to literature what Harum Scarum is
to the fine art of cinema.

And the DNA evidence?
Elvis Presley Enterprises Inc
. failed to respond to questions about Elvis' lineage, and phone calls and
e-mails regarding Smith's claim sent to
Graceland, Lisa Marie Presley, and the Presley family's
genealogist went unanswered. So, too, did repeated requests made to Smith's publisher requesting
proof of his DNA evidence — requests that were likewise ignored by Smith himself. (Smith's ghostwriter,
Rich Carlburg, explains Smith's failure to answer e-mails and phone messages with various excuses: His
computer crashed; he's snowed in at a Smith gig in North Dakota; he has no cell phone reception.
Mostly, though, Carlburg just joins Smith in refusing to answer questions about recordings, DNA
evidence, and the like.)

After repeated requests, Smith does finally provide a PDF of a copy of a birth certificate that shows his
birth name as
John Dennis Roach and his birth parents as Elvis A. Presley and Zona Marie Roach.
The document, which could easily have been doctored in a graphic design program, shows Smith's birth
date in
July 1961, but it was issued in 1985. The Texas Department of Health didn't return phone calls
regarding the veracity of the document.

"A phone call wouldn't have done any good," says private investigator and former journalist Rich
Robertson, who's investigated hundreds of complex criminal and civil cases.
"Smith would have to have
sent a signed, notarized waiver to the Bureau of Vital Statistics and have them send you a copy of his
birth certificate. Which, if he's who he claims to be, is in his best interest to do."

Perhaps the most intriguing thing about this document, and about Smith's book, is what it doesn't tell us:
That if Elvis really is his father, then that would mean that his birth parents were, to borrow the title from
an old Elvis movie, Kissin' Cousins.       
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