Dolly Parton was brilliant, melodic, and trailblazing. Her lifetime art was to be both spangly and utterly genuine.
When Dolly died this week, I thought I could see her bright, wide smile shining down from the sky, with the clouds billowing into her signature blond curls.
Dolly Parton was lauded and loved. Tributes poured in as they would for a head of state—more, I daresay, than many heads of state. American flags were lowered to half-staff, the top of the Empire State building sparkled in pink, and the royal guards at Buckingham Palace played "9 to 5" in tribute.
Dolly Parton sold more than 100 million records. She delighted, amused, and moved millions more, starring in movies and appearing on TV. She was charming, and she was savvy.
When Dolly was born, the 4th of 12 children, her parents had to pay the doctor in cornmeal. Her life reminds us that in America, someone can be born in a one-room cabin on the banks of the Little Pigeon River, and still be a queen.
Dolly Parton's success in show business gave wings to her natural generosity. She helped families rebuild after floods; sponsored scholarships; funded the development of a COVID vaccine; and started a program that sent books to more than 300 million children around the world.
But enough of a journalist's words—let's listen to the queen.
In 1972, Dolly wrote and recorded My Tennessee Mountain Home. It had the gift, as great songs do, of helping us to see simple things that were always right before us.
"Sittin' on the front porch on a summer afternoon
In a straight back chair on two legs leaned against the wall
As I watch the kids a-playin' with their June bugs on a string
And chase the glowin' fireflies when evenin' shadows fall
In my Tennessee mountain home
Life is as peaceful as a baby's sigh
In my Tennessee mountain home
Crickets are singing in the fields near by..."
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