Lisa Marie Presley a life taken too soon like her daddy, says Christa Ackroyd

I will never forget the kindness of the woman now grieving her only daughter who opened the doors of Graceland to us all those years ago. Or the photographs of a little girl with her daddy we saw on top of the piano, photographs which we have all seen on the news or in the newspapers this week. A little girl who has passed away suddenly at the age of 54. And the old adage ‘what price fame?

I wasn’t even a fan of Elvis when I made the journey to Memphis all those years ago with Sandy my sound engineer, along with two winners of a competition to find the greatest fans of the King to mark the tenth anniversary of his passing. It was one of the most popular competitions I had ever run while at the helm of Radio Aire. And our winners, a businessman and a miner knew everything about him.

What I didn’t know was that while Elvis’s popularity had waned in the latter years of his life and in the decade which followed, in the UK, where sadly he never toured, his fan base was the biggest and the most loyal. And that is how we came to be invited to sit alone in his house, eat pizzas at his kitchen table ordered from his favourite takeaway and, more poignantly, stand alone by his grave at midnight the night before thousands upon thousands of fans poured through the famous gates to pay their respects. It was a sombre and moving moment as our super fans laid flowers. And it was all made possible because of Pricilla.

It’s a funny thing being a journalist. Armed with nothing more than our tape recorder we landed at Memphis two days before the anniversary with nothing other than a letter from the head of the official Elvis Presley Fan Club of Great Britain, Todd Slaughter. But as a journalist the one thing you instinctively do is ask questions. And so we chatted away with our taxi driver. “ Did you know Elvis, ” I asked? “ Oh yes,” he replied. “ I worked for him” . Of course you did, the cynical journalist in me thought. “ In fact some of the boys are coming round tonight for a few beers if your would like to join us.”

And so it was we found ourselves in the midst of a simple gathering which included members of Jordanaires who had played alongside Elvis in that comeback concert, drivers, friends and perhaps a few hangers on. It was a surreal experience but nothing as surreal as what happened the following few days.

Armed with names and numbers and introductions we set off on a journey of discovery to meet those who knew him. And yes those whose lives were changed because of him. Because of that group we were introduced to Bernard Lansky who ran the clothes store where Elvis developed his iconic look and Sam Phillips at Sun Records who recalled the day Elvis was invited to a jam session with Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins and Johnny Cash. And how selling the rights of Elvis to RCA for just $35,000, not only saved his ailing studios, but allowed him to invest in a little hotel company with big plans. You may have heard of it, Holiday Inn. We ate at restaurants where Elvis had taken the whole dining room out for friends or simply got up and paid for everyone else’s meals. We heard many stories about Elvis, mostly about his generosity.

It was an extraordinary insight into a town with a rich past, credited with being the home of the Blues as well as being at the heart of the civil rights movement where Martin Luther King was assassinated. But running through it then, and I am sure now, is the story of the ‘dirt poor’ kid from Tupelo born in a two-room shack who built his mansion on the hill. And it was there we planned to visit with thousands of others to commemorate his passing. Only we didn’t.

Pricilla had heard about the little group from West Yorkshire. We were not a major film crew or even making a documentary for the radio network. But she had heard of two fans from England who had travelled to pay homage and something had touched her. And so she sent word asking us to visit by ourselves. It was that same taxi driver who had opened so many doors for us at the wheel when the gates of Graceland opened just for us after everyone else had gone home and who drove us to the front porch where Elvis’s grandmother Minnie Mae had been told to just let us in and let us wander at will.

It was extraordinary. We sat on his sofa, were invited to take a cold drink from his fridge and order pizzas just as he did. Just before midnight we were taken to his grave. Elvis Aaron Presley died aged 42. Everyone, even Sandy and I, wept. Not just at the loss of talent. Not just at his tragic end. But because of the extraordinary generosity of the woman who married and divorced him and strove to keep his legacy alive not only for his fans but for their only child.

Just five days before her passing, Lisa Marie was at Graceland with her mother on what would have been her father’s 88th birthday. In front of thousands she told them they were the only people she would ever leave the house for, them and her father, which is why she was at the Golden Globes to see the actor who played Elvis in the the film win his category and dedicate it to her and her mother, which moved both to tears.

A few days later Lisa Marie was dead. Much has been written about her, including appalling comments from anti- vaxxers that she had died from the Covid jab. How truly shocking that the woman who lost her own son to suicide was considered fair game from the conspiracy theorists within hours of her passing. And how awful for her mother in grief to have to read this, to have to once again confront the fact that someone she had loved and lost was being used and yes abused for the purposes of others.

This year I plan to go back to Memphis. I am sure much will have changed as Elvis’s place in rock and roll history has been secured and his fan base has grown among those who were not even born when he died. Nothing will have changed more than the graveyard in the back garden where Elvis’s only child will be buried alongside her beloved father and her much mourned son. I will think about them of course I will. But I will also be reminded of her mother, a woman who once heard about two fans from England and a couple of radio people from West Yorkshire and who opened her house and her heart to them and now grieves for a little girl who grew to be a woman who looked just like her daddy and like him was taken too soon.