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    Riley Keough Sues to Block Sale of Graceland, Charging Fraud

    His granddaughter, the actress Riley Keough, claims that a company is fraudulently planning to auction off Elvis’s home in Memphis.Lawyers for the actress Riley Keough, the granddaughter of Elvis Presley, have sued to stop what they say is a fraudulent scheme to sell Graceland, the family’s cherished former home in Memphis.Court papers that Ms. Keough’s lawyers filed this month claim that a company planning to auction off Graceland is fraudulently claiming that her mother — Elvis’s daughter, Lisa Marie Presley, who died in 2023 — had borrowed money and put Graceland up as collateral. The papers say that the company, Naussany Investments & Private Lending LLC, “appears to be a false entity” and that the documents it presented about the loan were also fake.“There is no foreclosure sale,” Elvis Presley Enterprises, which operates Graceland, said in a statement, in which it also said that the lawsuit had been filed to “stop the fraud.”Graceland, a popular tourist attraction, is a major source of income for Elvis Presley Enterprises and the family trust.A representative for Ms. Keough, who controls her family’s trust, did not immediately respond to a request for comment on Tuesday. A lawyer representing Keough in the case also did not respond.Months after Lisa Marie Presley died, Naussany Investments presented documents claiming that she had borrowed $3.8 million from the company and “gave a deed of trust encumbering Graceland as security,” according to court papers filed in Shelby County, Tenn. Copies of the documents were provided to The New York Times by Elvis Presley Enterprises.Naussany Investments had scheduled a sale of Graceland for Thursday, the court papers say. But after Ms. Keough’s lawyers argued that the deed was fraudulent, the court issued a restraining order barring any sale, according to the documents. The documents say a hearing has been scheduled for Wednesday.Attempts to reach Naussany Investments through the email addresses and phone numbers listed for the company in the court documents were not immediately successful. One listed phone number was said to be no longer in service.Last year, Ms. Keough and her grandmother Priscilla Presley engaged in a monthslong legal battle that eventually left Ms. Keough as the sole trustee of the financial instrument established by her mother, the Promenade Trust.Even as bills have sometimes mounted, the family has held on to the main house at Graceland — an eight-bedroom, eight-bath Colonial revival home in Memphis that served as Elvis Presley’s personal home from 1957 until his death, in 1977, at the age of 42. The house was appraised at $5.6 million in 2021.But Graceland has become worth far more as a tourist attraction. In 2022, operations at Graceland generated at least $80 million, most of which supports Elvis Presley Enterprises. The family trust retains 15 percent of Elvis Presley Enterprises. More

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    My father, the Pakistani Elvis

    Elvis personified everything American, what my dad wished to embody: charisma, rebellion and sex appeal.This article is also a weekly newsletter. Sign up for Race/Related here.Graceland was one of my father’s first stops in America. He had always been a fanatic, performing his first Elvis impersonation at a talent show in Port Harcourt, Nigeria — a way for expats working on oil refineries to let loose. My mother is his enabler, sewing the sequins onto his blue satin capes, bedazzling the ivory jumpsuit with the deep V-neck. When he rumbles, “Thank you, thank you very much, especially to my Priscilla,” with a wink flung at my mom, she still beams.Growing up in Karachi, my father and his friends would pile into the cinema, erupting in song and dance whenever Elvis graced the screen. My dad always carried a comb in his pocket to perfect his Presley-esque hairstyle: smooth sides, floppy front. Elvis personified everything American, what my dad wished to embody: charisma, rebellion and sex appeal.My father, Airaj Jilani, immigrated to the U.S. in March 1979 and worked for an oil-and-gas company in Texas in the days when South Asian men were not welcome. To this day, he wears cowboy boots and his Southern drawl is deeply ingrained. His identity, unlike mine, has never been a question mark.His Elvis impersonations began in Pakistan with performances for family, which quickly catapulted him into becoming a local rock star. As a kid, I watched him shake his hips in local talent shows with utter wonder. Women chased him off the stage, grabbing his scarves. He embraced every aspect of newfound celebrity. Since then, he has performed at benefits, at office parties, throughout Venezuela, on a boat in Istanbul and in a Beirut night club, where an Instagram account streamed his performance live.When he moved to the U.S., he rejected his ethnicity. After we were born, we were to follow suit. An American flag hung outside our home; he took it down when it rained to protect it. We were forbidden to speak Urdu, but my mother still taught us on the sly. Bollywood movies were smuggled in and watched secretly. When my little sister wore a hijab to ground her in spirituality, it was incomprehensible to my father. Instead of living in the suburbs as my parents had envisioned, I became a pediatrician and aid worker who returned to the very same places that they had risked their lives to leave behind.When I worked as a doctor aboard refugee-rescue boats off the coast of Libya, I recognized the strangers as shadows of my family. As a child, my father had boarded a ship in India and sailed north to a newly created Pakistan. He and his siblings used to play in the ship’s boiler room, hopping between turbines. It was warm but deafeningly loud, which spared him from hearing women crying above. Women wept on the vessel I worked on, too. The kids on our ship scaled ladders as their laughter ricocheted off the surf, and I imagined my father doing the same so many years ago.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More