Coat of Many Colors

Growing up in East Tennessee, Dolly was omnipresent. She epitomized “local girl done well,” and then some.

She had been a regular on former Knoxville Mayor Cas Walker’s radio show then caught the bus to Nashville the day she graduated high school. Hit after hit after hit. TV shows. Guest appearances. Records with everyone. Movies. It all seemed unreal.

But, if you were the least bit familiar with the Smokies, you knew the poverty from which she came. You may not have known it first hand, but you knew people who did. You saw it when you drove to the mountains and in the less-developed corners of Knox County. And pretty much everyone knew someone who knew Dolly or one of her many brothers and sisters. East Tennessee was still relatively small like that in those days.

And Dolly was the biggest thing ever to come out of our hollers. She had a show with Porter Waggoner and they sold boxes of Breeze detergent with a free bath towel inside. I begged and begged my mother to just once buy that brand instead of her usual Tide.

Then, there was Dolly on Johnny Carson and being interviewed by Barbra Walters. She became a bit of a joke on the coasts. I bet it bothered her but she just shook it off and stayed two steps ahead of everyone, in on the joke and out-talenting and out-working everyone in her way.

My favorite local story was about her alma matter, Sevier County High School. When my school would occasionally play them in football, their band uniforms and instruments were always brand new and sparkly and better than anything our band had. That’s because Dolly made sure the marching band always had the best. As teenagers, we were a bit jealous but knew that if she had been a Farragut Admiral, she’d have done the same for us.

And it turns out, that’s the way she was. She cared and she never forgot where she came from and she gave back,in spades. She loved East Tennessee, and boy, did it love it her back.

We should all know Dolly’s love. Thank you for your gifts and rest easy, sweet lady.


Hold On

Diesel, Emerald Isle, NC. September 2019.

In my mind I keep a small pantheon of Great Dogs. Diesel was one of them.

He was my husband’s dog, found tied to a tree, secured with a rope, left for fate by abusive owners.

They didn’t count on Shane, though. At 7:15 one morning while walking his two dogs, he noticed a coat under a tree in the park a couple blocks from home. Only, the coat moved, tracking the threesome as they circled the greenspace.

Shane secured the other two dogs and calmly approached Diesel. He was fat and his hair had fallen out in clumps because of a flea infestation. His ears were swollen shut and his eyes gooey.

Shane got D home, cleaned him up, introduced him to Grace and Maise, and decided then and there that this dog would never be neglected and alone again.

And he wasn’t.

Half lab, half border collie, Diesel had all the habits of a herder. He sat where he could watch and listen to the entire pack (us humans, other dogs) and gently made sure we all stayed within our boundaries. He growled when you touched him anywhere other than his ears. He could go out the dog door but not come back through. As a lab, he was an expert at stealing things off the counter. Other than that, a perfectly well-behaved creature.

Diesel’s love was subtle and quiet and strong. Patient. Faithful beyond normal. His dark eyes showed the depth of his thoughts and his life. He was the most remarkably chill dog I’ve ever met. If ever there was such a thing as dogs and their owners being alike, it was true for Diesel and Shane.

He slept between us and always joined me on the bed for my afternoon nap. He would dream, running and yelping, chasing imaginary things. He was beyond gentle and kind to every creature he met.

I learned so much about patience and kindness from Diesel.

It’s a sad day in our house. Diesel will be forever missed and always loved.

Go on, buddy.


Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started