Dolly Parton spun her rags into riches to share with the whole world

At another time, Dolly Parton would have been accepted as a saint: She was certainly a genius adored by women of all ages, writes Terry Prone

Dolly Parton wrote and performed the outstanding theme tune and acted in '9 to 5' (1980). She also held her own alongside heavy hitters like Julia Roberts in 'Steel Magnolias'. File picture: Michael Ochs Archives/Getty 

It’s not the end of an era, because she never belonged in an era. But Dolly Parton’s death will be experienced by people all over the world as a genuine sadness. She wasn’t just a singer. Or a song-writer. Or an actor. Or an entrepreneur. Or a philanthropist. She was all of them, and unsquashably adorable into the bargain. Plus she was a woman who was easy to denigrate who couldn’t be even partly sunk by denigration.

She remained as cheerfully bouncy, right up to the end, as a rubber duck. Up to three days ago, she was issuing online letters of comfort to fans who were concerned when she couldn’t turn up to the opening of a new roller coaster in Dollywood, her theme park. 

Fans all over the world worriedly parsed what she said about dizziness, while admiring the relentlessly positive tone of her communication.

Dolly Parton was born into a poverty she immortalised in songs. 

Songs about a ragged, abandoned girl with a puppy in her arms. Songs about going to school wearing a “coat of many colours” made out of donated scraps of cloth. Songs about being "rich in things that life can give That can't be bought with a dollar bill". 

Nine-year-old Dolly Parton in Tennessee in 1955. Dolly drew on her childhood poverty for many of her songs and also devoted much of her considerable philanthropic effort towards underprivileged children,  including here in Ireland. Picture: Michael Ochs Archives/Getty

Dolly was a hard-working genius who wrote about what she knew about and performed with stars of country music who uniformly adored her. The voice was distinctive, but it was the soaring harmonies that made her unique. She partnered with literally dozens of great male singers and matched them, note for note, concert by concert.

Famously commenting that it took a lot of money to look as cheap as she did, she needed no stylist, creating her own unique look, all big blonde hair, dimpled laughter, and unashamed big breasts. 

No sequin escaped her, and rhinestones were her friends. 

Even in the last few years, she performed in shorts and sparkly illusion net across her naked midriff.

One of the most creepily judgmental interviews done with her as a young star was executed by then world-famous Barbara Walters, who patronised and insulted the younger singer, telling her that she didn’t really have to look so over-the-top and asking why she did it. 

Dolly Parton smiled sweetly and made Walters’ interrogation look like an exercise in class and power that had gone badly wrong. 

Long-lasting marriage 

Dolly stayed married to the same man, Carl Dean, from 1966 until his death last year. 

He never accompanied her on tour or participated in her publicity, doing his job in a chosen obscurity lovingly colluded with by his famous wife. 

She powered ahead, taking every opportunity to venture into new territory, like acting, starring alongside heavy hitters like Julia Roberts in, for example, 9 to 5 and    Steel Magnolias. And more than holding her own.

But she also monetised her appeal by developing a theme park named Dollywood, which is wildly popular, a series of food offerings which sell in every major US supermarket chain, and home wares sold by Walmart.

Dolly Parton the philanthropist 

Then, there was the philanthropy. In love with books, she gave away literally millions of them to children — including Irish children — who might otherwise not have had reading material. During Covid, she gave millions to vaccine research.

Irish country and western singer Margo O'Donnell  got to collaborate with Dolly Parton, recording 'The Highway of My Life' in Nashville in 1998. Picture: RTÉ

Her husband’s death desolated her, but she promised she would perform again, and worked hard to get fit enough for that. 

When she got “dizzy in the head” she reported the condition to fans as if it was a temporary inconvenience, making another confident prediction that they’d soon see her perform again. 

This was a woman who, in the middle of a global pandemic of complaint, of people describing themselves as “struggling” with normal life challenges, never complained about her past, her present or her constrained future.

At another time and dressed down a bit, she would have been accepted as a saint. She was certainly a genius who was adored by women of all ages.

We don’t often actually cry over the deaths of distant international stars. But a lot of us cried tonight, when we heard of Dolly’s death.

We were on first name terms, you see. We knew her by heart.