America – both Democrat and Republican, both libtard and chud – mourns together, because we have all just lost a national treasure. Dolly Parton, the famed country singer with the big hair, big smile and even bigger heart, died on Tuesday at the age of 80.

She was the most famous country singer of all time. It was a fame that came from the huge hit songs she wrote, of course, but also from her unerring ability to project warmth and fun. She wore her celebrity so lightly that everyone felt like she was theirs.

This is perhaps why my social-media feed has been flooded with tributes from both my liberal, progressive and woke friends and family, and my newer tribe of the conservative, populist right. On this at least, we can all agree: Dolly was a wonder and we shall not see her like again.

Which is a real loss, because she is exactly the kind of role model we all need at this perilous time. Born one of 12 children in rural Tennessee in 1946, she grew up in real Appalachian poverty, but went on to become both a globally famous singer and philanthropist who supported early childhood education, disaster relief and public health. But she never lost her down-to-earth country-girl approachability. Or her grit and common sense.

These qualities no doubt made her value the lessons learned from her illiterate but hard-working father, and parlay them into a business empire. In 2025, Forbes estimated her to be worth $450million (another estimate put it at $650million). That includes her music publishing, a theme park, a makeup brand, a wine brand and a motorway rest stop with a coffee shop called A Cup of Ambition. And much of her business was directed toward Sevier County, where she grew up. She ‘brought jobs, opportunity, joy and a sense of pride to the Smoky Mountains’, wrote one fan on X.

People who are normally at odds over almost everything can agree that Dolly was a national treasure. Beyoncé and Oprah and Benny Johnson and Megyn Kelly have praised her since her passing. From Pitbull, the anti-Communist Cuban rapper, to Viet Cong-loving actress Jane Fonda. Andy Burnham and Blue Labour, as well as Donald Trump and the Democratic Socialists of America, all expressed their condolences at her death.

As someone of a certain vintage, I remember in the 1980s that Dolly was frequently the butt of jokes from male media personalities. I can even remember one of their truly execrable jokes: ‘Dolly is famous for two things. One left, and one right.’ Such was the vibe at the time. Apparently, seeing a friendly blonde with a bouffant hairdo and very ample breasts entitled men to become bumbling fools who could not express a coherent thought.

But Dolly sailed, unperturbed, right on past the dumb sexism that was directed her way, and actually used it to her advantage. Like her celebrity, she carried it as though it was no burden at all, making a joke of herself – which only made her more likeable.

‘This dumb blonde ain’t nobody’s fool’, went the lyrics to one of her songs from her debut album, Hello, I’m Dolly. Truer words were never spoken. From the start, there were no flies on this girl.

‘Show business is a money-making joke, and I always liked telling jokes’, she said. But her business acumen was not to be laughed at. She declined Elvis Presley’s request to record her song, ‘I Will Always Love You’, because the night before Elvis was due to record, his manager, Colonel Tom Parker, demanded that she sign over half the publishing rights. ‘I wanted to hear Elvis sing it, and it broke my heart. I cried all night. But I had to keep that copyright in my pocket’, she said in a 2021 interview. The song later went on to be recorded by Whitney Houston, who made it a monster hit in 1992, spending 14 weeks at No1 on the US Billboard chart, earning Parton $20million.

And it wasn’t just drooling males who obsessed over Dolly’s physical form. In a 1977 interview with Barbara Walters, the pioneering female journalist came right and asked Dolly if her breasts were real, and followed up with the shockingly snobby comment: ‘You don’t have to look like this.’ Dolly’s answer was all class: ‘I would never stoop so low as to be fashionable. That’s the easiest thing in the world to do.’

It was a composure that Dolly said came from her Tennessee kin, who in that interview Walters referred to as ‘hillbillies’. Dolly did not bat a fake eyelash at the comment, and with quiet pride responded:

‘We were proud people. People with a lot of class. It was country class, but it was a great deal of class. And most of my people were not that educated, but they are very, very intelligent.’

Dolly was the personification of the American Dream. She was the embodiment of the best the nation has to offer: proud of its humble roots, embracing wealth but generous and altruistic, hard-working, God-fearing, but not afraid to have fun and be garish. She earned it, after all.

If each one of us can be a little more Dolly, then maybe there is hope for America after all.