One Saturday morning in September 2004, Dolly Parton arrived at Fort Campbell to sign autographs and meet fans at the Post Exchange.
It was already a remarkable week for the military installation. The Army was preparing for a taping of Oprah Winfrey’s talk show on post — although it was impossible to get anyone on Winfrey’s staff to confirm this in advance, and Fort Campbell officials were also staying mum.
When I had an opportunity to cover Dolly Parton’s appearance for the Kentucky New Era that weekend, I took the assignment with the idea that I might also get a chance to confirm something about Winfrey’s show on a baby boom that Fort Campbell was experiencing.
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I was assigned to a public affairs employee who escorted me to the Post Exchange. Then on the way there, a soldier who was driving the Army van I rode in pointed out a stage that had been built near Division Headquarters — and as we passed by, he mentioned it was for the Oprah Winfrey show. Silently, I thanked him, and we moved on to the second part of my assignment — seeing Parton.
The country musician was not going to be available for an interview, so I would have to make a story from observing her interactions with fans.
Chasing after glimpses of celebrities has never been a priority in my personal life or in the stories I want to pursue. I wasn’t expecting to see or hear much that would reveal anything I didn’t already know about Dolly Parton.
She was one of America’s most prolific and talented songwriters — the recipient at that time of seven Grammy Awards. She had starred in several movies, including “Steel Magnolias” in 1989 and “9 to 5” in 1980. Her literacy program for preschoolers, the Imagination Library, was just getting started in Christian County.
What I didn’t know, because I had never observed Dolly Parton in person, was her grace and warmth around others no matter their status in life.
I saw what mattered to Parton — beyond her achievements and celebrity — in one brief exchange as she walked toward a table set up for her to sign autographs. A young, male soldier lead her into the room, and as they approached the table, a woman pushing a baby in a stroller was blocking their path. The woman tried to move but there was something wrong with the stroller.
Maybe the wheel lock was stuck. Maybe she was nervous. Whatever the reason, she was in the way and the soldier leading Parton became agitated and told the mother she had to move. Immediately. It looked like the soldier was a ready to push the woman and her baby off to one side.
I don’t remember exactly what Parton said in that moment, but I do recall how she made everyone feel. Suddenly, the mother struggling with the stroller was put at ease because the person we had all come to see was telling her military escort to slow down and relax.
In fact, everyone relaxed.
It made an impression. Out of everything that happened on that day nearly 22 years ago, it was the singer’s graceful exchange in an awkward moment that I remember most.
I know countless witnesses have shared stories like this one since Parton died Wednesday. I’m not really revealing something you haven’t heard before about Dolly Parton.
Still, there is a purpose in eulogizing the best among us. Dolly Parton cannot be here now to show grace toward others. But we can.
Jennifer P. Brown is co-founder, publisher and editor of Hoptown Chronicle. You can reach her at editor@hoptownchronicle.org. Brown was a reporter and editor at the Kentucky New Era, where she worked for 30 years. She is a co-chair of the national advisory board to the Institute for Rural Journalism and Community Issues, governing board past president for the Kentucky Historical Society, and co-founder of the Kentucky Open Government Coalition. She serves on the Hopkinsville History Foundation's board.
