She was rock 'n’ roll royalty.
She was the apple of her daddy’s eye.
She was known to the entire world not because of who she was, but because of whose she was.
Lisa Marie Presley — the girl with the broken rebel heart.
Her unexpected and premature death last week has caused shock, anger and a very real grief among many.
Let me try to explain, for those who may not understand.
For Elvis Presley fans, this girl was loved from the day she was born on Feb. 1, 1968. From that moment on, she became our family like our daughter, little sister, friend. We rooted for her to find love, happiness and success.
In a nutshell: To love Elvis was to also love his child.
To the non-Elvis world, let me make this comparison. Lisa was like Caroline and John Kennedy to the President John F. Kennedy admirers. We were always interested to watch them grow up and see how their lives were turning out. We felt their pain, too.
But they were from Camelot. Lisa Marie was from Graceland.
Similarly, it is how the world has felt about Princess Diana’s boys, princes William and Harry. There was always a fascination with them. We still want to see them happy and whole and reunited.
It’s the same with Lisa Marie.
I actually met Lisa a handful of times in Memphis, Toronto and at Casino Rama near Orillia. The first time, she had released her own music and I got a one-on-one interview with her at a hotel in Toronto and had about 20 minutes to ask her what I needed to know.
Of course, the purpose was to publicize the album To Whom It May Concern and I knew I was supposed to keep it on topic. I felt I was walking a tightrope. I was trying to be professional, yet I was as close as I was ever going to get to my hero’s flesh and blood and I wanted to talk about her dad. Of course, she knew that, too, and we did.
Nothing she ever did was going to just be about her. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
She came into the interview room in a casual outfit and hair in a messy bun. She didn’t wear much makeup and sat cross-legged on a comfy chair drinking some tea. If I didn’t have the recording, I wouldn’t have remembered much. I was too star-struck.
I was told later by people, outside the door, we were laughing like schoolgirls. That has always made me really happy.
From my brief encounters with her, over the years, my impression was she was a woman with a soft and sensitive soul protected by a crusty shell. There was a depth and a sadness, even back in 2005, that was palpable.
I don’t think she suffered fools lightly. She had seen enough fakes around her father. I think she shot from the hip and you would know where you stood with her in short order. In other words, she was genuine. The real deal. No bull.
Let me admit, too, there were many times I questioned her life decisions and sanity. Marrying Michael Jackson for one, and Scientology for another.
Elvis was the very first global mega-superstar. He had no road map. So, he did the best he could to find his way.
As the only daughter of that true original, she also had to carve out her own path.
Were there stumbles? Yes, a lot. Some of her wounds were self-inflicted, while others were thrust upon her from a cruel fate.
I understand she was about to do a podcast about grief. Her 27-year-old son, Benjamin, died by suicide in her home in 2020.
It’s a shame that podcast hadn’t gotten off the ground. It could have helped others and herself.
In any case, a rare and beautiful young woman is gone too soon. She was truly loved.
These lyrics are from Soften the Blows, which appears in her third album, Storm and Grace.
Whoever is running the show
There’s one thing
That I need to know
Could you soften the blows?
