Priscilla Beaulieu Presley - Elvis and Me

praise for

ELVIS AND ME

This honest, full-length portrait paints him as he really was both in and out of the spotlight... his wife, who knew him better than anyone else, sees him clearly, steadily, and sees him whole.

John Barkbam R eviews

Her love for him... jumps out from between the lines.

Marilyn Beck, New York Dail y News

A sad, sweet book... the story it tells is fascinating.

Washingto n Post

A love story unlike any other... warm, dramatic and vivid... full of heartbreak as well as tender feelings... the author ingeniously weaves a tapestry of emotions... a must for all Elvis fans and friends.

The Waco C itizen

Elvis and Me is one fast and titillating read.

Dail y News

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Copyright 1985 by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley
E-book published in 2022 by Blackstone Publishing
Cover design by Blackstone Publishing
Photo courtesy of Priscilla Beaulieu Presley
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Trade e-book ISBN 979-8-212-22705-6
Library e-book ISBN 979-8-212-22704-9
Biography & Autobiography / Entertainment & Performing Arts
CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress
Blackstone Publishing
31 Mistletoe Rd.
Ashland, OR 97520
www.BlackstonePublishing.com

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Without them this book could not have been possible. I am forever grateful and want to thank:

• Michelle and Gary Hovey for the love and sensitivity you shared and for the countless hours of being there for me.
• My Mother and Father: I regret I have only this lifetime to return all the love and understanding you gave me.
• Jerry Schilling, my true friend, whom Ive always been able to count on.
• Joe Esposito, for always being dependable.
• Joel Stevens: I couldnt have made it without you, my friend!
• Ellis Amburn, for his patience and dedication.
• Norman Brokaw and Owen Laster, for their constant belief in me.
• Also, for their invaluable contributions: Sandy Harmon, Steven Kral, Phyllis Grann.

For Lisa Marie

Dont criticize what you dont understand, son, you never walked in that mans shoes.

Elvis Aaron Presley

It was August 16, 1977, overcast and dreary, not a typical Southern California day. When I walked outside, there was a stillness, an unnatural calm in the air that I have not experienced since. I almost went back into the house, unable to shake my uneasiness. I had a meeting that morning and by noon I was racing to meet my sister Michelle. On my way into Hollywood I noticed the atmosphere had not changed. It still seemed unusually silent and depressing and it had begun to drizzle. As I drove down Melrose Avenue, I saw Michelle standing on the corner, a look of concern on her face. Cilla, I just got a call from Dad, she said as I pulled up. Joes been trying to reach you. Its something about Elvis in the hospital. Joe Esposito was Elviss road manager and right-hand man. I froze. If he was trying to reach me, something must be terribly wrong. I told Michelle to take her car and quickly follow me home.

I made a U-turn in the middle of the street and raced back to the house like a madwoman. Every conceivable possibility went through my mind. Elvis had been in and out of the hospital all year; there were times when he wasnt even sick that hed check in for a rest, to get away from pressures, or just out of boredom. It had never been anything too serious.

I thought about our daughter, Lisa, who was visiting Elvis at Graceland and was supposed to come home that very day. Oh God, I prayed. Please let everything be all right. Dont let anything happen, please, dear God.

I ran every red light and nearly hit a dozen cars. At last, I reached home, and as I swerved down the driveway, I could hear the phone ringing from inside the house. Please dont hang up, I prayed, jumping out of the car and running toward the door. Im coming, I yelled. I tried to get my key in the lock, but my hand wouldnt stop shaking.

Finally I got into the house, grabbed the receiver, and yelled, Hello, hello?

All I could hear was the hum of a long-distance line, then a stricken, faint voice, Cilla. Its Joe.

Whats happened, Joe?

Its Elvis.

Oh, my God. Dont tell me.

Cilla, hes dead.

Joe, dont tell me that. Please!

Weve lost him.

No. NO! I begged him to take back his words. Instead, he was silent. Weve lost him His voice broke and we both began to cry. Joe, wheres Lisa? I asked.

Shes okay. Shes with Grandma.

Thank God. Joe, send a plane for me, please. And hurry. I want to come home.

As I hung up, Michelle and Mother, who had just arrived, embraced me and we cried in each others arms. Within minutes the phone rang again. For a moment I hoped for a miracle; they were calling me back to tell me that Elvis was still alive, that it was all right, that it had all been a bad dream.

But there were no miracles. Mommy, Mommy, Lisa was saying. Somethings happened to Daddy.

I know, Baby, I whispered. Ill be there soon. Im waiting for the plane now.

Everybodys crying, Mommy.

I felt helpless. What could I say to her? I couldnt even find words to comfort myself. I feared what she would be hearing. She didnt yet know that he had died. All I kept saying over and over was, Ill be there as soon as I can. Try to stay in Grandmas room, away from everyone. In the background I could hear a grief-stricken Vernon moaning in agony. My sons gone. Dear God, Ive lost my son.

Fortunately a childs innocence provides its own protection. Death was not yet a reality to her. She said shed go out and play with Laura, her friend.

I hung up and walked around in a daze, still numb with shock. The news hit the media instantly. My phones did not stop ringing, with friends trying to cope with the shock, members of the family grasping for explanations, and the press demanding statements. I locked myself in the bedroom and left instructions that I would not speak to anyone, that I wanted to be alone.

In fact, I wanted to die. Love is very deceiving. Though we were divorced, Elvis was still an essential part of my life. Over the last years wed become good friends, admitting the mistakes wed made in the past and just beginning to laugh at our shortcomings. I could not face the reality that I would never see him alive again. He had always been there for me. I depended on him, just as he depended on me. We had a bond: Wed become closer and had more understanding and patience for each other than in our married life. We had even talked of one day... And now he was gone.

I remembered our last phone conversation, just a few days before. His mood had been good as he talked about the twelve-day tour he was about to begin. He even laughed when he told me that, as usual, the Colonel had papered the first city they were scheduled to hit with his posters and that his records were being played constantly in advance of his arrival.