Elvis and Me

by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley

For the last time I begged him to consummate our love. It would have been so easy for him. I was young, vulnerable, desperately in love, and he could have taken complete advantage of me. But he quietly said, “No. Someday we will, Priscilla, but not now. You’re just too young.”

He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him.

Colonel Parker’s theory was: “If you want to see Elvis Presley, you buy a ticket.” Once you started passing out freebies, it meant a lot of lost income. He stuck to that policy to the day Elvis died.