Lisa was outside on the lawn, with a friend, riding around on the golf cart that her father had given her. At first I was amazed that she was able to play at a time like this, but when I talked to her, I realized that the full impact of what happened hadn’t hit her yet. She’d seen the paramedics rushing Elvis away, and he was still at the hospital when I’d arrived, so Lisa was confused.
"Is it true?" she asked. "Is my daddy really gone?" […]
I nodded, then took her into my arms. We hugged and then she ran out and started riding around in her golf cart again. But now I was glad she could play. I knew it was her way of avoiding reality”
(Elvis and Me, 1985)