By Luca Filigenzi, Staff Writer

This piece is not intended to be an obituary. It is not an account on the life of Dolly Parton, nor is it some kind of objective look on her achievements and songs. I am writing because I want to express what she meant to me, and what I know she meant to millions of people across the globe.

Being from Eastern Tennessee, Parton was held in higher reverence than any politician, athlete or celebrity. I would hear her songs on the radio, see her on shows like “The Simpsons” and every few years, I would make the pilgrimage to Dollywood just like anyone else I knew.

It is impossible to overstate how much she meant to our community and to the entire state. She was someone we could be proud of, devoid of traits that might make her controversial. Parton is the only Tennessean I have ever seen admired by the entire country.

Growing up in Oak Ridge, a medium-sized town in eastern Tennessee, Dolly’s name was known more than any person save for Jesus and Jack Daniel, but it was not just for her music. Like thousands of other children, Parton’s Imagination Library supplied me with books to read, books that felt special because they came from her.

Not only did this help foster my love of reading, she was someone who I felt I had a connection to, and I am willing to bet that a lot of other people felt the exact same way.

This larger-than-life personality and inordinate amounts of recognition often led lesser people to becoming shallow, arrogant or full of themselves. So many who lived the rags-to-riches story like she did end up forgetting what it was like to live a hard life.

Perhaps her most admirable and well-known trait is her ability to make fun of herself.

Whether it be on talk-shows or interviews, she made it no secret that she had cosmetic surgery, or that some people considered her a ‘dumb southern blonde’. Not only did she laugh at these jokes, she owned them completely.

Parton was a person who refused to be objectified because, as she said, “I know I’m not dumb, and I know I’m not blonde.” I think this is the trait that elevated her from admired country singer to almost mythologically beloved American figure.

The reaction to her passing reminded me of just how widespread her fans were. Do you know how hard it is, in today’s climate, for someone to pass and be mourned by everyone?

For someone to die, and all sides of the political and social spectrum to mourn them. From Rosie O’Donnell to Donald Trump, from Jeff Bezos to Eminem, how long has it been since, and how long will it be until, someone has inspired such universal admiration?

Parton was special for her music, of course. It is undeniable that her songs were relatable in a way that cradled the soul and healed old wounds.

More than her music, Parton was special because she was a good person who refused to change no matter how many people knew her name.

She had a theme park named after her, was offered a statue in the Tennessee state capitol twice and brought joy to millions. Yet all this success that might make anyone too proud, she chose to make jokes about herself.

I don’t know if there will ever be another Parton, whether for her music that reminded us of each other’s humanity, the jokes she told at her own expense or her charity that changed the lives of countless. One thing I do know is that I will be listening to her songs for the rest of my life, and like every other Tennessean with “Jolene” stuck in my head, there will forever be a hole in my heart the shape of a big blonde wig. Thank you, Dolly.