\Dolly Parton has maintained her modesty throughout her extraordinary career as a performer, businesswoman, and philanthropist, while accumulating enormous recognition and wealth. Success has unsurprisingly followed her throughout her journey.
Parton knows the hardships of poverty having grown up in a large family. Despite her success as a hugely important Hollywood actress today, she has never forgotten her lowly roots.
In Nashville, Tennessee, in 1955, Dolly Parton posed for a picture. | Source: Getty Images
The genuine Dolly Rebecca Parton, the music icon, was welcomed home by her parents on January 19, 1946, at their home on Locust Ridge in Sevierville, Tennessee. She has eleven siblings and was born in a one-bedroom cottage.
Her father, sharecropper Robert Lee Parton, worked in construction to augment his income because he was unable to attend school and was hence illiterate.
The legendary country singer grew up surrounded by music because of her family’s strong musical heritage. Despite their challenging living conditions, singing brought them together and brought them joy.
In 1965, in Nashville, Tennessee, Dolly Parton posed for a picture. | Source: Getty Images
Parton learned to sing from her mother, the entertainer Avie Lee Owens. She played her a variety of melodies, including Elizabethan ballads and church hymns that had been passed down through the years in her family.
Parton’s grandfather, Jake Robert Owens, composed the hymn “Singing His Praise” while serving as a priest. A number of Parton’s siblings developed a passion for music, and a few of them participated in her family band.
Sam Owens, a musician and singer-songwriter in his own right, was another uncle of Parton. When she was a little child, her uncle—who loved music—was the first to see that she had the ability to become a well-known musician.
Stella Mae, Cassie Nan, the twins Freida Estelle and Rachel Ann, Willadeene, David Wilburn, Coy Denver, Bobby Lee, Robert, and Larry are among Parton’s siblings. After a fight with cancer, Robert passed away in 2021, while Larry passed away at birth.
Parton often assisted her parents in taking care of the younger children because she was the fourth of her twelve siblings. She shared a little roof with her family.
Their log cottage had no running water or electricity at the time, and it only had a living room and one bedroom. The building is still standing today.
Parton has never shied away from talking about her modest upbringing or how it shaped the way she saw the world. She knows what it’s like to be poor; she grew up in a huge household with little money.
In a promotional picture for her 1984 movie “Rhinestone,” Dolly Parton beams. | Source: Getty Images
Parton talked back to The Guardian in 2016 on her early years spent in the remote Tennessee highlands, emphasizing the happy memories from that time in her life. She stated:
“Obviously, there were problems, but I would rather look back on the good times.”
She recalled the times she had spent with her siblings, singing in church, and doing household chores that she didn’t really enjoy. She also remembered all of the laughs she had with her family in the past.
Parton talked about how her siblings would always sing and how she would always attempt to get them to back her up when she pretended to be the lead vocalist on stage, but they would never show any interest.
Parton remembered that her brothers would frequently cram themselves into their small home, which resulted in a lot of mocking and fighting. But they remained a family through all of the turmoil.
The cottage was too small for them to comfortably hang out in, she said, so they spent most of their time outside. The courtyard functioned as an addition for socializing over meals, entertainment, and games.
Parton stated that her family was constantly appreciative of their access to food and a roof. Her parents consistently stressed that other families suffered more than their own, even though it was not exactly what they desired. She remembered:
“I never felt poor, even though we were.”
Parton’s enthusiasm and musical ability would ultimately enable her to become one of the most popular and successful country music artists of all time, despite her family’s humble beginnings.
Growing Up in Poverty
Parton said that although she had happy childhood memories, being poor meant having to endure difficult living circumstances. She and her 14-member family essentially lived in a shanty and had little access to needs.
She revealed that she was just eight years old when she first saw a toilet and bathroom in her aunt’s house and was attracted by them in a March 1978 Playboy magazine interview with journalist Lawrence Grobel.
Parton revealed that she and her siblings were terrified to use the restroom because they believed it would swallow them up, while laughing at how naive and innocent they were at the time. “It was just very strange,” she remembered.
For Parton and her family, taking a daily shower was not an extravagance. Frequently, they would produce their own soap, and occasionally, they would cram themselves into the truck and head to the river to have a bath.
Although there was a brook close by, they all chose to bathe in the river since it served as their “big bath.” As their homemade soap cascaded down the river, they would swim together and give each other’s hair a bath.
Parton compared their river bath to a “bathtub,” jokeing about how filthy they were back then and how it would have left a ring around the Little Pigeon River. For them, taking a river bath was a midsummer rite.
Every member of the household would have a pan of water to wash as much as possible in the winter. Parton answered Grobel’s question about how frequently she and her family took winter baths by saying:
“Well, as the saying goes, we bathed once a week whether we needed to or not.”
Parton started to value bathing more after she started high school. She would bathe every night because her younger siblings would not wash their hands before bed. She disclosed:
The children urinated on me each night. In the bed, we slept three and four. Every night, I would wash. The kids would also wet on me as soon as I went to bed, so I would have to get up in the morning and repeat the entire process.”
On November 5, 2019, in New York City, Dolly Parton is present at the We Are Family Foundation event held at Hammerstein Ballroom. | Found via Getty Images
Parton was not hesitant to express her opinions, explaining that while getting peed on would seem unhygienic to some, the urine actually provided some warmth during the winter.
She remembered how cold it would get at home because she lived in the mountains, and she even mentioned that it was almost enjoyable to get pissed on because the room was just as cold as the outside. They would all curl up in bed, she claimed.
distributing millions
Parton has said that her family is wealthy and content in other ways, despite their lack of material wealth. She became humble as she grew older, and even after becoming wealthy, she never stopped helping those in need, just like her family had done when she was younger. She said:
“My greatest love will always be my family.” Although it might occasionally get lost in the shuffle, family is a part of all I do.
Parton claimed that her family was the inspiration behind her music and that her theme park, Dollywood, and one of its acts, Dixie Stampede, are meant to be places where families can enjoy themselves and spend quality time together.
Parton is a self-made millionaire, with a projected net worth of $375 million in 2022 according to Forbes. Her theme park and ownership rights to music publishing were the main sources of her financial success.
In the 1970s, she refused to share the critically praised song “I Will Always Love You” with Elvis Presley, one of the nearly 3,000 songs that she is in ownership of. When Whitney Houston performed the song in the 1990s, this choice paid off.
In addition, Parton is paid a publishing fee for songs that are sold, aired, or featured in motion pictures. According to Forbes, her songs are valued at $150 million, while her royalties have brought in between $6 and $8 million.
But the source of the music icon’s enormous wealth is her well-known theme park, Dollywood, which is one of Tennessee’s most popular travel destinations. According to reports, it earns $3 million annually.
When the theme park was still known as Pigeon Forge in 1968, the country music artist made an investment in it. Later, she gave it a new name, “Dollywood,” a pun on the word “Hollywood.” There is a water park and a hotel in the park.
In addition, Parton just unveiled Doggy Parton, a pun on her well-known name, as a new business. The business, which makes apparel and toys for dogs, was founded because of her passion for animals.
Parton learned the value of sharing her accomplishment with others from her early experiences. She is a businessman and singer in addition to being involved in a number of social and humanitarian organizations and having given millions of dollars to people in need.
In order to collect $13 million for the survivors of the East Tennessee wildfires that devastated Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg in 2016, Parton teamed together with a group of musicians.
At “Smoky Mountains Rise: A Benefit for the My People Fund,” other well-known performers included Chris Stapelton, Kenny Rogers, Lauren Alaina, Alison Krauss, Reba McEntire, Cyndi Lauper, and Chris Young.
Following her niece’s leukemia treatment at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Parton donated $1 million to the Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital in 2017.
Apart from extending monetary support to individuals impacted by natural calamities, Parton made a noteworthy impact on the healthcare industry through her magnanimous financial contributions.
When she gave $1 million to vaccine research in 2020 amid the global COVID-19 pandemic, which affected people all over the world, she made headlines. Her input was useful in developing the Moderna vaccine.
Parton’s unwavering commitment to advancing early childhood literacy is another well-known quality. Each month, she provides over a million youngsters with free books through her nonprofit initiative, Imagination Library.
In order to assist kids in learning to read and write, Parton and Robert Lee established a non-profit organization in 1995, drawing inspiration from her father’s personal experience with illiteracy. Although it began in eastern Tennessee, it has expanded to assist children in all 50 states as well as the District of Columbia.
Other nations, like Australia, Canada, and the United Kingdom, have also been affected by the literacy initiative. Parton announced at the Library of Congress in 2018 that the initiative has distributed its 100 millionth book.
When the campaign first began, Parton just wanted to support her father and her hometown; she had no idea it would become so popular. She said with joy, “But then it just took its own wings, and I guess it was meant to be.”
Parton was also pleased that her father was quite proud of having contributed something valuable. Before he died in 2000, he had the opportunity to witness the results of their labor.
Her goals for the Imagination Library are also very lofty. She acknowledged having lofty goals and wishing to donate one billion books in her lifetime.
Despite having a difficult upbringing, Parton never lost sight of the value of community and family. She made the most of her riches by giving millions of dollars a year to a range of humanitarian causes, such as health, education, and disaster relief.
Her lowly beginnings instilled in her the virtues of perseverance, hard effort, and the unifying power of music. She also recalls the love, laughter, and happiness that characterized her childhood home and the family who stood by her side no matter what as she reflects on her life.
Just a Month After Mom’s Death, Dad Brought a Young Mistress Into Our Home for Christmas – I Was Shocked When I Saw Her
Just a month after my mother lost her battle with cancer, Dad brought his mistress home for Christmas and introduced her as my “NEW MOM.” My heart shattered, but it wasn’t the only thing that left me shaken.
My hands won’t stop trembling as I write this. I need to share about a Christmas dinner that turned into a nightmare and showed me how quickly a family can shatter. There are some moments you wish you could forget, but they end up teaching you the hardest lessons about life, grief, and what it means to move on.
An upset woman | Source: Pexels
It’s been exactly one month since we buried Mom. For three years she fought cancer, and even at the end, she never stopped being… Mom. I remember her last day so clearly — the beeping machines, the afternoon sunlight streaming through the hospital window, and how she squeezed my hand with surprising strength.
“Lily, sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice raspy but determined. “Promise me something?”
“Anything, Mom.” I was trying so hard not to cry.
“Take care of your sisters. And your father… he doesn’t do well alone. Never has.” She smiled that soft smile of hers. “But make sure he remembers me?”
“How could anyone forget you?” I choked out.
That was our last real conversation. She slipped away the next morning, with my sisters Sarah and Katie holding one hand and me holding the other.
People at a funeral | Source: Pexels
The first week after the funeral, I moved back home. Dad seemed lost, wandering the house like a ghost. I’d find him standing near Mom’s closet, just staring at her clothes. Or sitting in her garden, touching the roses she’d tended so carefully.
“He’s not eating,” Katie reported during our daily sister check-in calls. “I brought over lasagna, and it’s still sitting untouched in the fridge.”
“Same with the casserole I made,” Sarah added. “Should we be worried?”
I thought we should be. But then everything changed.
It started small. Two weeks after the funeral, Dad cleaned out Mom’s closet without telling any of us. Just boxed everything up and dropped it at the local charity.
An empty wardrobe | Source: Pexels
“Her favorite sweater?” I asked, horrified when I found out. “The blue one she always wore for Christmas?”
“It’s just taking up space, Lily,” he said, suddenly practical. “Your mom wouldn’t want us dwelling.”
A few days later, he joined a gym. He started getting haircuts at some trendy place instead of the salon where Mom had known the owner for 20 years. He bought new clothes and even started humming while doing dishes. At 53, Dad was starting to act like a 20-year-old young man.
“He’s handling it differently,” Katie insisted during one of our emergency meetings at my apartment. “Everyone grieves in their own way.”
I was pacing, unable to sit still. “This isn’t grief. He’s acting like he just got released from prison instead of losing his wife of 30 years.”
A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney
Sarah curled up on my couch and tried to keep peace. “Maybe he’s trying to stay strong for us? You know how Mom always worried about him being alone.”
“There’s a difference between being strong and whatever this is,” I said, watching through my window as night fell over the city. “Something’s not right.”
I had no idea how not right things were about to get.
“Girls,” Dad called us into the living room one evening, his voice weirdly excited. “Family meeting. I have something important to tell you.”
He’d gotten all dressed up — a new shirt, pressed slacks, and polished shoes. He’d even put on cologne. Mom’s picture smiled down from the mantel as we gathered, and I swear Dad’s eyes looked delighted.
A senior man in a suit | Source: Pexels
“I’ve met someone special,” he announced, practically bouncing on his feet. “Her name is Amanda, and I want you all to meet her.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Katie’s face went white. Sarah started fidgeting with her ring.
“What exactly do you mean you’ve met someone?” My voice came out strangled.
Dad’s smile never wavered. “I mean I’m not getting any younger, Lily. Life goes on. Amanda makes me happy, and I want her to be part of our family.”
“Part of our family?” Katie’s voice cracked. “Dad, Mom’s been gone for three weeks!”
“And what am I supposed to do?” He crossed his arms. “Sit alone in this empty house forever?”
A stunned young woman facing a man | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe grieve?” I suggested, my anger rising. “Remember your wife? Our mother?”
“I am grieving,” he snapped. “But I’m also living. Your mother wouldn’t want me to be lonely all my life, girls!”
“Don’t.” I stood up. “Don’t you dare tell us what Mom would want. You don’t get to use her to justify this.”
Dad just walked away, scowling, leaving the three of us in a daze.
A week later, he dropped the next bomb.
“Christmas dinner,” he announced over the phone. “I want Amanda to join us.”
Close-up of a man holding his coat | Source: Pexels
I nearly dropped my coffee mug. “You’re bringing her to Christmas dinner? Mom’s favorite holiday?”
“It’s the perfect time for everyone to meet,” he said, sounding irritatingly reasonable. “Amanda’s excited to meet you all. She’s even offered to help cook.”
“Help cook?” I gripped the phone tighter. “In Mom’s kitchen? Using Mom’s recipes?”
“Lily—”
“Mom’s been gone for four weeks, Dad. Four. Weeks.”
“And what should I do?” His voice rose. “Cancel Christmas? Sit alone while my daughters judge me?”
“Maybe respect Mom’s memory? Remember 30 years of marriage? The woman who spent last Christmas in the hospital still trying to make it special for everyone?”
A furious woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’m still your father,” he said sharply. “And Amanda is coming to Christmas dinner. That’s final.”
“Fine.” I hung up and immediately called my sisters.
“He’s lost his mind,” Katie declared during our emergency video chat. “Completely lost it.”
Sarah looked like she might cry. “What do we do?”
I had an idea forming. A terrible, perfect idea.
Christmas Eve arrived cold and snowy. I spent the morning in Mom’s kitchen making her stuffing recipe. Every few minutes I caught myself turning to ask her a question, the grief hitting fresh each time I remembered she wasn’t there.
A woman decorating a Christmas tree | Source: Pexels
Katie arrived early to help, bringing Mom’s special tablecloth, the one with tiny embroidered holly leaves that Mom would spend hours ironing each year.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Katie admitted as we set the table. “Kept thinking about Mom, how she’d make us polish the silver until it sparkled.”
“Remember how she’d position everything just right?” Sarah added, arriving with pies. “The centerpiece had to be exactly in the middle.”
“And the photos,” I smiled sadly. “So many photos before anyone could eat.”
“Dad would complain his food was getting cold,” Katie laughed, then stopped abruptly. “God, I miss her.”
A sad woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
The doorbell rang at exactly six. Dad rushed to answer it, checking his reflection in the hall mirror first.
“Everyone,” his voice boomed with pride, “this is Amanda.”
I was stunned. She couldn’t have been older than 25. Long blonde hair, expensive boots, perfect makeup. She looked like she could have been our younger sister. My father looked like he’d won the lottery.
“This is your new MOM!” He announced, his arm around her waist. “I hope you all got her something nice for Christmas!”
Katie dropped her wine glass. The red spread across Mom’s white tablecloth like a wound, the holly leaves disappearing under the stain.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
Dinner was excruciating. Amanda kept trying to make a conversation, her voice high and nervous.
“This stuffing is amazing,” she said. “Family recipe?”
“My mother’s recipe,” I replied, emphasizing each word. “She made it every Christmas for 30 years. This was her favorite holiday.”
“Oh.” Amanda pushed food around her plate. “I’m so sorry about your loss. George told me—”
“George?” I cut her off with a wicked grin. “You mean Dad?”
Dad cleared his throat. “Lily!”
A woman grinning | Source: Midjourney
“No, I want to know… when exactly did he tell you about Mom? Before or after he asked you out?”
“Lily, stop,” Dad whispered.
“Did he tell you she spent three years fighting cancer? That she was still having chemo this time last year?” I couldn’t stop. “That she made him promise to keep our family together?”
“That’s enough!” Dad’s voice thundered across the table.
Amanda looked close to tears. “I should probably—”
“No, stay,” Dad insisted. “Family gets uncomfortable sometimes. That’s normal.”
A startled woman | Source: Midjourney
“Family?” I laughed bitterly. “She’s practically my age, Dad. This isn’t family. It’s creepy.”
“Present time!” Dad announced after dinner, desperate to change the mood. He’d always played Santa, but watching him do it now felt wrong.
I watched Amanda open gifts — a scarf from Katie, a gift card from Sarah. Then she reached for my carefully wrapped box.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she gasped, lifting out the antique jewelry box. Mom’s favorite, the one she’d kept her wedding ring in. “Thank you, Lily. This is so thoughtful.”
“Open it,” I said softly. “There’s something special inside.”
A woman holding a gift box | Source: Pexels
The room fell silent as she lifted the lid. Inside lay a photograph of Mom in her garden last summer, surrounded by her roses and all three of us girls beside her. Her last good day before the hospital. Her smile was still bright and full of life, even though we knew what was coming.
Beneath it lay my note: “You are not my mother. No one will ever replace her. Remember that.”
Amanda’s hands started shaking. “I… I need to go.”
“Honey, wait—” Dad reached for her, but she was already running, leaving her coat and muffler behind as she fled into the snowy night.
A woman walking away | Source: Pexels
Dad came back inside alone, snow melting on his shoulders, his face ashen.
“What did you do?” he demanded.
“I gave her a reality check,” I stood my ground. “Did you really think you could replace Mom with someone my age and we’d just accept it?”
“You had no right,” he growled. “You’re not letting me live my life!”
“Live your life? Mom’s been dead for four weeks! Her side of the bed isn’t even cold!” I was shouting now, years of watching Mom suffer, weeks of watching Dad move on, all pouring out at once. “Did you even love her?”
An angry woman | Source: Pexels
“How dare you?” His voice broke. “I loved your mother for 30 years. I watched her fight. I watched her die. But she’s gone, Lily. She’s gone, and I’m still here. What am I supposed to do?”
“Not this,” I whispered, tears finally falling. “Anything but this.”
Katie and Sarah stood frozen, Christmas tree lights casting shadows on their tears. Outside, the snow continued to fall, covering Amanda’s footprints as she’d run away from our family’s broken pieces.
My dad blamed me for not letting him move on, but I think his actions were deeply disrespectful to my late mother. I firmly believe I did the right thing by defending her memory and making it unequivocally clear to Amanda that she could never fill my mother’s shoes.
A woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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