How did anyone expect Graceland sale plan to work?

Friday, May 31, 2024, Vol. 48, No. 22

You’d think it would be pretty hard to steal a house. Especially one as prominent and distinctive as Elvis’s former Memphis digs, Graceland.

For the record, I am not alleging any criminal intent in the recent goings-on involving Graceland. That might be considered libel, in a financially costly sort of way, and I certainly wouldn’t want that. I’m just, you know, raising questions.

As you might have read or heard, a foreclosure sale for the property had been scheduled May 23. An outfit called Naussany Investments & Private Lending claimed Elvis’s late daughter and heir, Lisa Marie, had taken out a $3.8 million loan, used Graceland as collateral and then failed to repay.

Lisa Marie’s daughter, the actress Riley Keough, opposed the sale in court.

Graceland, as any true Elvis fan knows, was his home from when he bought it for $102,500 in 1957 until his death there on the – let’s call it – “throne” in 1977. In some respects, it’s still his home, since he’s buried there, as are his parents and several other family members.

A portion of the home was opened to the public in 1982, to much success, operated by Elvis Presley Enterprises. A study cited in The Tennessean found it is the most popular tourist attraction in the state.

Architectural Digest, which describes it as a “Colonial Revival-style mansion,” says it is “the second-most visited home in America (after the White House), receiving around 600,000 visitors annually.”

For the faithful, it is Mecca. But it also draws the merely curious. Like me.

I toured it in the mid-80s on a trip that also included Elvis’s decidedly more modest birthplace in Tupelo (Bethlehem, to continue the religious analogy). The most memorable portion of Graceland was the Jungle Room or, as Elvis called it, “the Den.”

I’m struggling for a way to describe it. Let’s just say that the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll had a quirky sense of interior design. The website atlasobscura.com calls it a “tropical man cave.”

“Its jungle atmosphere came complete with a built-in rock waterfall and green shag carpet, and he furnished it with ferns and lacquered wood furniture. It was the ultimate at-home Tiki bar.”

I’ve not felt the need to tour the home again. That’s partly because of the prices, which range from $82 for the basic Elvis Experience Tour to $240 for the Inside the Graceland Archives Ultimate VIP Tour, with meal voucher. (I don’t know what the meal is. Fried peanut butter and banana sandwich?)

Still, it pained me to think the whole shebang could be gaveled off to the highest bidder. Shoot, what if Elon Musk bought it with his pocket change?

Anything like that now seems unlikely, given last week’s developments in a Memphis courtroom.

In furtherance of its claim, Naussany Investments had presented documents purporting to have Lisa Marie’s signature, attested to by a Florida notary public. Keough, through her attorneys, contended the signature was forged. They further said that the notary public professed to have never met Lisa Marie, nor to have validated her signature.

A Memphis judge, unsurprisingly, delayed a sale. Various reports since have indicated that someone named Gregory Naussany has said the lender will not proceed in its efforts.

It’s all more than a little puzzling. Any attempt to foreclose on and sell Graceland was going to have to go through the legal system. Any supposed signature of Lisa Marie was going to be heavily scrutinized. A notary public’s attestment wouldn’t be taken at face value; it would be investigated.

Who in the world could think they could succeed in a fraud of that sort without getting caught? And who would walk away from a $3.8 million claim if it was legitimate?

Again, not that I’m suggesting that Naussany Investments – if indeed it really exists – was trying to pull a fast one. I’m just saying that a fast one had no chance of being pulled off.

Elvis may have left the building, literally and figuratively. But Riley Keough and Elvis Presley Enterprises are still taking care of business.

Joe Rogers is a former writer for The Tennessean and editor for The New York Times. He is retired and living in Nashville.