It was nineteen fifty-seven when my cousin Eileen and I decided to visit our Aunt Louise, whom we affectionately called Easa (pronounced Ee-sa). She was the sweetest person in the world, our mother’s younger sister living in Memphis. Easa had left Nashville after marrying a former Green Bay Packers football star and heavyweight boxer known as 'Heavy,' who was working in construction. She invited us to spend the summer with her; I was 14 and Eileen was 11. Everyone was head over heels for Elvis, and we would often stroll down to Hibbett's drug store to buy movie magazines. My sister Annette worked there and would charge everything, ending the week with little left over. Our excitement was palpable! Easa, our beloved aunt, was stunning, and everyone said I resembled her. We told Easa that we wanted to see Elvis, and every morning she would drop us off at Graceland. She'd pull up in front of Elvis's mansion and ask, 'Have you seen him?' to which we would respond, 'no.' Then she'd inquire, 'Are you ready to come back home?' and we'd reply, 'no.' One day, Eileen declared, 'I’m hungry; I want a milkshake.' 'Okay, let's get you a milkshake,’ I agreed. We headed to what I think was called Westgate, a small strip mall, where I remember hearing 'Honeycomb' by little Jimmie Rodgers playing on the jukebox. Back then, it wasn’t commercial. Upon returning to Graceland, we learned from others that we had just missed Elvis. In a fit of frustration, I thought about pouring that milkshake all over Eileen. We were wearing the same size shoes— I in a peasant blouse and Eileen in baby doll shoes; we even swapped shoes for fun. We met Elvis's cousin/guard named 'Smith,' who also told us we had just missed him. The next day, I proposed we pack a lunch and stay there; we couldn't afford any more chances. Armed with tuna salad sandwiches, we waited eagerly. Finally, the guard who had been eyeing us left, so I whispered to Eileen to let’s go through the field and over the wall. I climbed up the wall and perched on top, catching a glimpse of his mother’s pink Cadillac. Eileen grabbed my leg, urging me not to go. 'Don’t go, don’t go; we’re going to get in trouble,' she said, clearly worried. Reluctantly, I climbed down. I think she feared for my safety. We made our way back through the expansive field to the front of Graceland, where Uncle Smith approached us, saying, 'I’ve seen you girls here every day.' We confirmed this, and he advised us, 'If you want to see Elvis, you need to come back tonight; he doesn’t come out until nine.' Eileen and I exchanged glances, knowing there was a fine line between being pushy and respecting boundaries. Aunt Easa sat there, a little unsure, saying, 'I don’t know; are you sure you want to do this?' 'Yes! Yes!' we affirmed, with her southern drawl stretching the final 'hun.' She hesitated, mentioning she didn't want to disappoint us but doubted he would be there. I was nervous but determined; perhaps a drink helped convince her to take us, even if we didn’t want Heavy to find out. After much begging, Easa agreed. When we arrived at Graceland, confusion set in as there was hardly anyone there—just an old 56 Oldsmobile. As we stepped out of the car and stood by the gate, suddenly, there he was, driving a little golf cart towards us. We were frozen in amazement as he approached the fence. He asked our names as we stood on the brick wall near the large gates. People started to gather, maybe about 15 in total. Dressed in black pants and a black shirt, with a slim white belt, he interacted with us, and I remember him saying, 'Don’t lie to me—don’t lie to me,' as if he enjoyed that phrase. We could hardly believe we were with him for about an hour. He left twice, teasing us by saying, 'Just remember... don’t lie to me.' We begged him not to leave; he initially drove off in his golf cart, only to return moments later with a playful grin, saying, 'I fooled you.' I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach him for those precious moments. We even scored an autograph on a scrap of paper I found, simply signed 'Elvis Presley.' The crowd began to build, with children clamoring for his attention, and my time with him felt all too brief. I couldn’t believe I managed to touch him. Easa, being just like her name (Louisa minus the Lou), was waiting right at the front for us. As we got into the car, we hadn’t driven far down the parkway when a policeman pulled us over. Apparently, Aunt Easa had had a cocktail while waiting for us. 'Well, Officerrrr, I was just taking my little nieces to see Elviiissssss Presssss- ahh,' she slurred, making it seem like a comedy routine. The officer replied to us, 'Now listen, girls, I'm going to let your Aunt go, but you have to promise me you'll go straight home.' We promised profusely. Heavy Gilmer, Aunt Easa's husband and former Green Bay Packers player, drove Eileen and me back to Nashville. While he shared stories about his football days, our minds lingered on thoughts of Elvis. Oh, what would become of us? Later, I enrolled in art classes, dreaming of showcasing my limited edition prints at an art gallery in Nashville, inspired by that enchanting summer with Easa and Elvis.