Since Elvis Presley sadly died in 1977, some devoted fans believe he faked his death to live quietly away from the public eye.
These fans think Elvis might have been hiding from the mafia, appeared as an extra in the movie *Home Alone*, visited California’s Legoland, helped out at Graceland, or is now living as a humble preacher in Arkansas.
Even though the preacher, Bob Joyce, keeps denying he’s Elvis, fans believe he’s about to reveal the truth about his faked death soon.
Keep reading to find out what the preacher says about these claims!
On August 16, 1977, the world was shocked when it was announced that 42-year-old Elvis Presley died of a heart attack.
Even though it’s been almost 50 years since his death, some people still refuse to believe the King of Rock and Roll is really gone.
To this day, Elvis-obsessed fans refuse to let go and choose to believe the gyrating gent faked his own death to go into hiding.
And now they are convinced they spotted the “Jailhouse Rock” singer living as Bob Joyce, a 72-year-old preacher in Benton, Arkansas.
Joyce looks like an older, silver-haired version of Elvis, speaks like Elvis and sings with the same soothing baritone that Elvis was adored.
And when a YouTube video of Joyce singing the gospel song “How Great Thou Art,” a song recorded by Elvis in 1967, conspiracy theorists went wild.
One fan wrote, “This is definitely Elvis. No one else could sing this hymn like him.”
Another fan commented, “His voice will never change. We love you and hope you share your life story with us someday. We all know who you are.”
A third fan said, “No imitation Elvis sings like Bob Joyce. Sir, I believe you are Elvis. The rhythm and tone of your voice are unmistakable.”
Another fan wrote, “I love you, Elvis Bob Joyce. I know who you are, but it’s okay. No more spotlight, just peace of mind. You still have my heart.”
However, Bob Joyce, the gospel singer and preacher at The Household of Faith Church, says he is not Elvis Presley and is instead a messenger of God.
He explains, “No, I’m not Elvis. Many people ask me that. I’ve tried to tell everyone, ‘No, I’m not Elvis.’ I’m actually almost 20 years younger than Elvis, who would be 89 in 2024. Even though most people know I’m not Elvis, they are grateful that God is helping them through their struggles.
“Maybe God is using Elvis’ voice to heal broken hearts and lives. If Elvis were alive, I’d say to him, ‘We’re kindred spirits.’”
Still, many of Joyce’s fans are adamant in saying he hasn’t come out yet and will soon reveal his big secret to the world.
“All his [members of the congregation] knows it’s him as well as the many visitors to his church every Sunday from around the world know it’s him. He’s getting ready to explain it all (why he faked his death & changed his name) very soon,” writes Alabama’s Samantha Drummond Dunn, who plans on traveling to Arkansas to meet Joyce. Encouraging others to watch his YouTube videos, which she says serves as proof, she demands, “It is him!”
Poking fun at her statement, another netizen writes, “If it’s on the Internet it must be true.”
The Bob Joyce website warns people about fake social media accounts pretending to be him, including the one mentioned by Drummond Dunn. The website says, “People have impersonated Bob Joyce many times. He does not send private messages online. The only real Facebook account for Pastor Bob Joyce is: facebook.com/bob.joyce.75. Any other accounts claiming to be him on Facebook or elsewhere are not genuine.”
The statement also notes that Bob Joyce is not on Instagram or TikTok.
What do you think about this? Share your thoughts and pass this story along so we can hear what others think too!
My Wife’s Daughters Demanded I Fund Their Weddings — I Taught Them a Lesson in Family Values
Jack always believed that love transcended monetary value, yet his daughters seemed fixated solely on finances. When they insisted he cover their wedding expenses, his heart sank. Determined to instill a deeper understanding of family and respect, Jack decided it was time they learned a valuable lesson.
Hey everyone, Jack here, age 55. Let’s cut to the chase: what’s more important, love or money? You’d probably say love, right? Unfortunately, that’s where my story turns bittersweet. My daughters, well, they opted for MONEY…
About fifteen years ago, my wonderful wife Mary ended things with her unfaithful ex. We’ve been blissfully married for a decade, and she brought along three incredible daughters from her previous marriage. I embraced them wholeheartedly from the start.
Lily, the oldest, bonded with me quite quickly. We weren’t exactly two peas in a pod, but she’s always shown kindness and been there for us, particularly during tough times.
As for Sandra and Amelia? It was a different story. I did my utmost, truly. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, they viewed me through the lens of their biological father—judging me by my income, the car I drove, and even my appearance.
Their coldness was evident, but I didn’t let it deter me. I supported them through college, provided for their needs, and fulfilled my role as a father, hoping my efforts would eventually warm their hearts.
Interaction was limited, primarily during holidays. But then, out of the blue, both called me, almost simultaneously. Here’s how it went down:
“Jack,” they began eagerly, “we’ve decided on a double wedding! And, well…”
I could almost hear the dollar signs in their tone.
“And?” I prodded, my stomach knotting in anticipation.
“We want you to pay for them,” they stated matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural request in the world.
My teeth clenched so tightly, I thought I might crack a molar. Finance their weddings? The audacity!
Understand, the issue wasn’t the money. I’ve always seen them as my daughters, regardless of their feelings towards me. But their entitled demeanor? That cut deep.
“Why should I?” I asked, struggling to keep my composure.
“Well,” Sandra retorted, “you paid for Lily’s, didn’t you?”
Lily’s wedding was a different scenario altogether. She had never demanded anything; she hadn’t approached me with expectations. But when she needed help, I was there, ready to support her with a smile.
These two, however, had consistently compared me unfavorably to their biological father and criticized my efforts. Yes, their indifference hurt, but it never stopped me from loving them as my own. Still, I wasn’t just an ATM.
“What about your father?” I queried, clinging to a sliver of hope for some reasonableness.
“He says it’s too pricey for him,” Amelia replied with a tinge of entitlement. “So, since you’re better off, it falls to you, right?”
I was tempted to lash out, to spell out just how disrespectful and entitled they were behaving. But then, a spark of an idea hit me. Perhaps this was an opportunity to teach them something crucial about love, respect, and the true essence of family.
“Alright,” I said calmly, “let’s discuss this face-to-face. Come over tomorrow night, and we’ll talk it over.”
Their agreement was swift, tinged with excitement. They thought they had me cornered, but little did they know, I was about to turn the tables.
The following night, as the doorbell rang, I opened the door to find Sandra and Amelia laden with shopping bags, takeaway peeking out from the top.
“Hey, Jack!” Sandra greeted with a contrived smile. “Brought dinner—Thai, your favorite.”
Amelia corrected her, “It’s Pad Thai, not just Thai.”
I ushered them in, maintaining a neutral expression. “Welcome. But before we eat, we need to address this wedding situation.”
We settled into the living room, the food momentarily forgotten. I took a deep breath and laid out my thoughts.
“I’ve supported both of you through college, yet I’ve often felt underappreciated. Now, you expect me to finance your weddings. Why do you think that’s fair?”
An uncomfortable silence followed. Sandra and Amelia exchanged looks, having a silent conversation.
“Well,” Sandra finally said, “you helped with Lily’s wedding. It’s only fair you do the same for us, right?”
“Fairness has nothing to do with it,” I replied. “Lily has always been respectful and grateful. She never assumed I would just provide. You two, on the other hand, have done nothing but compare me to your father and others, never once treating me as part of the family or even calling me ‘dad.’”
“But we are family,” Amelia interjected, her voice defiant. “You’re supposed to do things for family, right?”
“Family, is it?” I mused, the word bitter on my tongue. “It seems we have different understandings of what that word means. More like strangers under one roof, isn’t it? But since you’re playing the family card, let’s see what that really entails. How about a challenge?”
A mischievous grin spread across my face as I leaned forward. “Here’s the deal. I’ll help with your weddings, but there’s a condition.”
I paused for effect.
“For the next three months, I want you both to live here, contribute around the house, and show me some genuine respect—no comparisons, no negativity, just real effort. If after three months, I see a real change, then the wedding funds are yours. If not, you’ll need to rethink your plans.”
The shock on their faces was palpable. Three months? Living here? This was not what they expected.
“Three months?” Amelia stammered. “But we have plans, jobs, apartments…”
“Those plans can wait,” I said firmly. “This is my offer. Take it or leave it.”
They exchanged a hesitant look, clearly not thrilled with the idea but tempted by the promise of funded weddings.
“Alright,” Sandra finally conceded, “three months. But we’re not doing dishes.”
I chuckled. “Dishes are part of the deal. But think of it this way—at least you’ll have a roof over your heads and some decent meals.”
What followed were weeks of adjustment. Sandra and Amelia were hardly skilled in household chores, and their complaints about daily tasks became a regular occurrence. They also couldn’t resist making passive-aggressive remarks about my taste in home décor.
However, as time passed, a transformation began. They saw the effort I put into maintaining our home, the care I showed in preparing meals, and the dedication I had towards their mother and them, even when it wasn’t reciprocated. They began to help out with chores, initially reluctantly, but with increasing participation. Family dinners, once awkward, became more natural, and conversation flowed more freely.
They started to understand the sacrifices I made, the extra hours I worked to ensure they could live comfortably. Gradually, the walls they had built began to crumble.
By the end of the three months, their attitudes had changed. They no longer viewed me as just an outsider, but as a true part of their family. I saw how they had grown from entitled young women into thoughtful, kind individuals.
One evening, as we gathered around the dinner table, Sandra spoke up, her voice soft.
“Jack,” she began, “these past months have been eye-opening. We’re really sorry for how we’ve treated you. The truth is, our fiancés are pitching in for the wedding, and we’ll be using some of our savings as well.”
“But that’s not all,” Amelia added. “We… we really want you to walk us down the aisle. Our dad was hardly around after the divorce, but you… you’ve always been there. You paid for our education, for Lily’s wedding, and you’ve always stepped up.”
“We’re sorry for not seeing you for who you truly are. We missed out on having a real dad, and realizing that now is painful,” Sandra added, her eyes moist.
Emotions swirled within me as I listened to their heartfelt apologies. They acknowledged my role in their lives, something I hadn’t dared hope for.
“Thank you,” I managed, my voice thick with emotion. “I’d be honored to walk you down the aisle.”
As the wedding day approached, I fulfilled my promise and contributed to their celebrations. But the true gift wasn’t financial—it was the newfound respect and love that had blossomed among us.
Walking my daughters down the aisle, I felt a profound sense of pride not only in their happiness but in the journey we had all undertaken. It was a celebration of not just their love stories but of a family that had grown stronger and more respectful.
Their weddings marked not just a union of hearts but a testament to the power of family, forgiveness, and the unexpected ways love can flourish.
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