And she says that by turning to Vanity Fair- knowing the magazine has featured WertheimerвЂ™s work in the past-she is also seeking validation from the one man who could give it to her.ДЄ year ago January, Malcolm Gray, BarbaraвЂ™s fourth husband (and 16 years her junior), brought home a copy of USA Today. What she claims to want, instead, is to get her story out. But Gray says sheвЂ™s not after material gain at this late stage. ItвЂ™s true that the woman in the photos didnвЂ™t sign a model release she could have made a good sum, over the years, from the commercial use of her likeness. вЂњShe said, вЂGrandma, can you get your name on the picture? Because some day itвЂ™s going to be worth something.вЂ™вЂќ вЂњMy granddaughter went to Graceland and brought back a coffee cup, a little lunch bucket, and a clock, all with that photo on it,вЂќ she explains. The sheer ubiquity of вЂњThe Kiss,вЂќ in part, is what finally got Barbara Gray, you might say, all shook up. He also entered into a licensing agreement with Elvis Presley Enterprises, which began emblazoning photos of the singer and the mystery kisser on calendars, note cards, screen-savers, purses, refrigerator magnets, and the like. In 1996, Wertheimer decided to abandon a movie-equipment-leasing business to concentrate full-time on Elvis, selling prints through *The New York TimesвЂ™*s online store and WashingtonвЂ™s Govinda Gallery (for as much as $9,000 each). But by 1958 the singerвЂ™s paranoid manager, Colonel Tom Parker, lowered a curtain around his protГ©gГ© and, for the rest of PresleyвЂ™s life, restricted the media to meticulously orchestrated events. In between assignments, Wertheimer would take forays to the South, creating a variety of images of Presley riding his motorcycle, hanging out with cronies, recording songs in the studio.

Wertheimer was a Brooklyn-raised photojournalist who shared a studio at the time with photographers Jerry Uelsmann and *LifeвЂ™*s Paul Schutzer. вЂњThen the phone started ringing,вЂќ says Wertheimer, вЂњand it really hasnвЂ™t stopped in the 34 years sinceвЂќ-largely because no other photographer had ever been granted such access. According to Wertheimer-who, that March, had initially been hired by RCA Victor to shadow the labelвЂ™s dynamic young star-the images were of вЂњno value to speak ofвЂќ until 1977, when a drug-addled Presley collapsed and died in his bathroom at Graceland at the age of 42. But that prize frame has become one of the classics in the rock-photography canon: Elvis, in a stairwell at the Mosque Theatre in Richmond, Virginia, minutes before a concert, darting a mischievous tongue toward the deliciously reciprocating mouth of a mysterious girl in black. While chronicling the rock prince on the threshold of becoming the King, Wertheimer, then 26, famously caught Elvis on the road and at his home in Memphis with his family and entourage. вЂњThe KissвЂќ-as the photograph is sometimes called-is in fact the most enduring of the 3,800 exposures that photographer Al Wertheimer made of Elvis Presley, many of the best taken during a two-day period in June 1956. She had seen that photo hundreds of times over the past half-century. вЂњNo,вЂќ Barbara said, nonchalantly, from the other room. вЂњMy God, come here!вЂќ the electrical engineer shouted to his girlfriend, Barbara, now his wife. Several years ago, Malcolm Gray was watching an Elvis Presley tribute show on Pay Per View when a still photograph appeared: the iconic 1956 shot of the 21-year-old rock вЂnвЂ™ roll star playfully romancing a blonde fan backstage.

Kiss image