Since the news of Dolly Parton’s passing on Tuesday, the world’s rhinestones are all shining a little less brightly.
Reading the obituaries in the hours since her passing, it is hard not to notice how similar they are. This is, in part, a testament to how meticulously Dolly honed a persona of positivity over a career that spanned seven decades. She was a master storyteller, and she understood the art of being an interview subject. She could deftly use an anecdote, one-liner, or inspirational quote to entertain, enlighten, or disarm.
Highlights of her biography have become legendary, eagerly shared by fans.
Once, she held off Elvis’s cutthroat manager, who wanted the rights to a song she had written. She lost out on having The King cover her tune, but she retained ownership of her art. The song in question was her celebrated classic, “I Will Always Love You,” which went on to become one of the best-selling compositions in music history. Adding to her mythos, she wrote the song the same week (or, depending on which version you believe, the same day) as another stone-cold classic, “Jolene.”
She had a decidedly less than amicable split from her former duet partner Porter Wagoner that led to him trying to take control of her career in a lawsuit. Later in life, when she heard his finances had taken a bad turn, she purchased part of his catalog and gave it back to him. And at the end of his life, Dolly visited him on his deathbed and sang hymns.
In more recent years, her philanthropy has become nearly as legendary as her music. It has been reported that if Dolly had kept more of her money, she would have been a billionaire. Her giving was purposeful, compassionate, and empowering. Notably, she tackled literacy and education through her much-lauded Imagination Library, which has distributed more than 300 million books. She took on a global pandemic. Her financial support helped lead to the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine.
Dolly’s generosity gives us an example of a gently radical way to center our values and to quietly change our world.
Growing up in the Smoky Mountains, near the tourist town of Pigeon Forge, Dolly admired Walt Disney and his vision for a dreamland to share with his guests. So, in 1986, she opened Dollywood, her own dreamland that allowed her to share her pride in Appalachia with visitors from all over the world. When wildfires tore through the communities around Dollywood in 2016, Dolly responded by setting up a fund that gave nearly 900 families $1,000 a month. Dolly used the unconditional cash transfer because she understood that not having what you need is not the same as not knowing what you need.
These stories, and countless more, shared in obituaries and social media posts, weave together a remarkably cohesive portrait of the Dolly Parton that we all love.
All of us.
Because everyone loves Dolly Parton. There is a consensus about Dolly that feels impossible to reach again. It is hard to imagine that there will ever be another person who is so universally loved. In August of 2026, it feels hard to be optimistic.
Dolly was inclusive. She ferociously welcomed all to her universe and refused to leave anyone behind. She favored values over politics, action over aggrandizement, and connection over condescension. Dolly was an artist, an inspiration, a friend, an icon, a saint, and a queen. But one trait rose above all the others: Dolly was good. I think she was probably born good, but she also worked at it. We can work at it, too.
Our beloved and deeply good Dolly may have flown home on butterfly wings, but she left us with lots of lessons. Tell good stories. Share as much as you can. Be good and find the good in others. Now that she’s gone, it is up to us to do right by her and learn those lessons. We owe her, and each other. Long live Dolly Parton.
Graham Hoppe lives and works in Raleigh, North Carolina. He writes about culture and history with a focus on food and music. His first book, Gone Dollywood, was published in 2018 by Ohio University Press. Find more of his work at grahamhoppe.com.
Header image by Tammy Mercure