In the late '70s, I had a brief, unsuccessful and completely unremarkable career as an Elvis impersonator.

Now that you've recovered from a laughing spell, some elaboration is in order. It was a brief career because I only did it once; it was unsuccessful because there was no payment for the gig; and it was completely unremarkable because there was a clear sense from those present that they were watching what amounted to a train wreck. But I enjoyed myself.

My future mother-in-law made me an Elvis shirt with a high, starched collar and sequins. Of course, the shirt was white. I was quite thin in those days, so the prospect of me imitating Elvis wasn't quite as ludicrous as it appears now. I don't sound much like Elvis, but I had his stage moves down cold, and as I mimed the singer's 1973 Aloha from Hawaii concert, my timing was quite good.

Elvis had a habit of using white towels to wipe the sweat off his face and neck. When I tossed a towel during my ill-fated karaoke session at a college formal, the coed into whose lap it fell recoiled in horror. Ah, well; I said my performance was unremarkable.

I'm a semi-Elvis fan and a devoted fan of Franklin Roosevelt and Winston Churchill. Here's how the contributions of these men mix in this column: Elvis was quoted as saying, "I learned very early in life that without a song, the day would never end; without a song, a man ain't got a friend; without a song, the road would never bend. Without a song. So I keep singing a song."

Music does reach us in a way nothing else does. Think of a movie you like. Chances are quite good that without a musical soundtrack, you might not remember the film very well. Music, the late host Dick Clark used to say, is the soundtrack of our lives.

Winston Churchill once used songs as a tool to try to induce Franklin D. Roosevelt to commit America to World War II. The U.S. was an isolationist country before the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor 74 years ago tomorrow.

FDR had pledged again and again to mothers that he wouldn't send their boys to some foreign war. Great Britain had been fighting Nazi Germany for nearly two years and was desperate for U.S. involvement. On Aug. 9, 1941, FDR and Churchill met on a naval destroyer off the coast of Newfoundland.

Churchill had a full band and chorus ready and three Christian hymns were sung, chosen especially by the British prime minister to appeal to the president's high-church, Episcopalian sensibilities: "Eternal Father, Strong to Save" (the Navy hymn), "O God Our Help in Ages Past" and "Onward Christian Soldiers."

On the newsreels, shown in theaters before the movies started, FDR can be seen singing along with the final hymn. As the incapacitated president went below decks, hanging on to the arm of his son Elliott, FDR was heard to say, "'Onward Christian Soldiers.' We are Christian soldiers, and we will go on, with God's help."

The at-sea conference produced the Atlantic Charter, a joint statement by both men of a pledge to fight the Axis powers: Germany, Italy and Japan. It was the first time FDR had publicly committed the U.S. to help the war effort.

It would be four more months before the U.S. declared war, but the August meeting greased the skids. Churchill's wise use of hymns touched FDR's heart and helped bring action.

If you sing a hymn today in church, be reminded of the power of a song. It touches us in a way few other things do. Without a song ...