Publisher’s Porch: I Will Always Love You

Welcome back to the porch.

Like so many people, I was saddened last week to hear about the passing of Dolly Parton.

There are certain celebrities who somehow feel like they have always been there. Dolly was one of them. The big hair, rhinestones, unmistakable voice, and sense of humor made her an icon. But for me, the news brought back a much more personal memory.

After my parents divorced, my mom and I took our first vacation together, just the two of us. We headed to Nashville, stopping along the way to pick up my great-aunt in Kentucky.

As part of the trip, we went to the Grand Ole Opry and got to see Dolly perform.

That would have been memorable enough. But during the show, Vince Gill came out to join her for a duet of “I Will Always Love You.”

Vince Gill was my mom’s favorite artist.

I still remember how exciting that moment was for all of us. It was one of those experiences you don’t necessarily realize at the time will become a lifelong memory. Years later, when my mom died, I played that duet at her funeral.

So when I heard the news about Dolly last week, my thoughts didn’t immediately go to Dollywood, “Jolene,” or even “9 to 5.” They went back to Nashville, sitting beside my mom and my great-aunt, watching Dolly and Vince Gill sing a song that would eventually mean much more to me than it did that night.

That’s the remarkable thing about music. It becomes part of the soundtrack of our lives.

Dolly’s impact, of course, went far beyond music.

Her Imagination Library grew from a program in her Tennessee hometown into an effort that has put hundreds of millions of books into the hands of children. Our family was one of them. From the time my son was born until he turned five, Dolly’s books regularly showed up in our mailbox.

She gave to hospitals, helped families after the devastating Smoky Mountain wildfires, and famously contributed $1 million toward research that helped lead to the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine, which coincidentally is the shot I received back in the early post-COVID days, giving this diabetic the needed immunity to emerge back into the world. Her philanthropy was not simply a side project attached to her celebrity. It became a major part of her legacy.

And she did it with a warmth that gave her a remarkably universal appeal.

Dolly seemed to approach the world with an almost stubborn sense of optimism. One of her own songs, “Light of a Clear Blue Morning,” carries a simple promise that feels especially appropriate now: “Everything’s gonna be all right.”

That’s not a bad legacy.

And since this column arrives around Labor Day, we can’t say goodbye to Dolly without mentioning “9 to 5,” her anthem for working people everywhere. More than four decades later, plenty of us can still relate.

So this Labor Day, maybe we can borrow a little from Dolly.

Work hard. Dream big. Laugh often. Help people when you can. Don’t be afraid to sparkle. And try to leave the world with a little more love than you found in it.

Happy Labor Day.

And thanks for the memories, Dolly.

Especially one very special night in Nashville with my mom.

I will always love you.