Okechukwu Uwaezuoke Aspectre of health problems trailed Dolly Parton’s larger-than-life public persona. First, she was in her 30s when she was diagnosed with endometriosis, a chronic medical condition where tissue
Okechukwu Uwaezuoke
Aspectre of health problems trailed Dolly Parton’s larger-than-life public persona. First, she was in her 30s when she was diagnosed with endometriosis, a chronic medical condition where tissue similar to the inner lining of the uterus grows outside of the uterus. This eventually led to a partial hysterectomy and meant that she could no longer have children.
Fast forward to the early 1980s, which brought another setback. Her career was briefly interrupted by what she called “female issues” and weight gain. She also disclosed around that time that kidney stones had troubled her for years.
But the woman who appeared to possess an almost inexhaustible supply of energy began life far removed from all the glitter. She was born on January 19, 1946, in a one-room cabin in Pittman Center, Tennessee, the fourth of 12 children of Avie Lee and Robert Lee Parton.
Despite growing up in a household where money was scarce, music was never absent from her life. Raised in the Church of God, where her grandfather was pastor, she was already singing in church at six. By seven, she was playing a homemade guitar. An uncle gave her a proper one when she turned eight.
At 18, apparently in no mood to waste time, she moved to Nashville the very next day after her graduation from Sevier County High School in 1964.
Soon, the country songs, the films, the wigs, the rhinestones, 9 to 5, Dollywood and, above all, that unmistakable voice had turned a poor Tennessee girl into one of the most recognisable entertainers in the world. Effortlessly, she had moved from country music into film, television and business.
It was not surprising, therefore, that her death on Tuesday, August 25, prompted an outpouring of tributes. Among those who paid their respects was President Donald Trump, who called her “one of the greatest Country singers, and far beyond, EVER” and ordered flags to be flown at half-mast for a week. Several state governors followed suit. The Empire State Building was reportedly lit in pink in her honour, a nod to 9 to 5, the song that had long since outgrown its original film to become an anthem of working women.
The Academy of Country Music said she had left “a legacy that reaches far beyond the stage”. Flowers appeared at her Hollywood Walk of Fame star and at her statue in downtown Sevierville. And the Country Music Hall of Fame opened a book of condolence.
Obviously, Parton’s passing touched many a nerve, particularly among those now in their 60s and 70s. Her death is a grim reminder that an era is gradually being phased out and it brings to mind Henry Clay Work’s 19th-century song Grandfather’s Clock, which tells of a clock bought on the morning its owner was born. For 90 years, it keeps time faithfully. Then, at the moment the old man dies, it stops.
Dolly’s clock has stopped. But the clock, for others, is still a-numbering
