(Editor’s note: Dolly Parton died on Tuesday. She was 80 years old. Fifty years ago, she visited Rowan County. Her visit was detailed in a Salisbury Post article by then reporter Dwight Sparks. In honoring Parton’s legacy, we are republishing Sparks’ article, which originally ran on March 27, 1976.)
The queen-in-waiting of country music bounced smiling onto the stage in Erwin Junior High School’s gymnasium last night and gently caressed the audience’s soul which had been left in tears by two other country greats.
Dolly Parton, kitten voiced star of pickup truckers and blue collars, sang sweet songs, funny songs, fighting songs and sad songs. But she left the 950 Nashville lovers who attended two shows here on a high note, with their tears wiped away and ready to go home satisfied.
It was a top billing of country and western stars. Jack Greene, sainted by his “There Goes My Everything” but now regarded as the Arnold Palmer of C&W was the second attraction and sang a grueling 10 songs. Introducing his promising new single, “Birmingham” to the area.
He was led by fast-rising star Moe Bandy, honky tonk singer pattered after the canonized Hank Williams. Indeed his current best seller is “Hank Williams You Wrote My Life.”
The concert was poorly attended considering the popularity of the entertainers. For a gymnasium concert, the quality was good. Miss Parton’s sound system was used. The volume was good, there were practically no electrical problems with the sound, which is rare, and the singers were not badly muffled by the amplification. There were 650 at the first show, 300 at the second.
PLS Productions lost a lot of money on the concert, and the low attendance may jeopardize the future of big-name country stars being brought to the area. The Erwin Junior High Parent Teachers Association uses the country concerts as a fundraiser. They did not net much last night.
Bandy moaned about divorce, telephone party lines, cheatin’ wives and the path to the gutter in “I Just Started Hatin’ Cheatin’ Songs Today.”
“I just threw my last bottle at the jukebox
When I heard that woman sing
Darlin’ let’s go all the way
I just started hatin’ cheatin’ songs today.”
He has been called “a disciple of unadulterated, gutbucket honkey tonk.” The 10 songs he sang of bar room blues inflicted the audience with misery, singing their eyes, stabbing their hearts and killing by inches. The crowd loved it. Love songs are OK, but everybody sings them. Bandy’s lyrics of malaise, migraines and gin drinkers’ livers were a vanishing form until now. His ballads reflect a music show called the “brandy of the damned.” The baby-faced mutton-sideburned Bandy harrowed his listeners with “Honky Tonk Amnesia,” “It’s So Easy,” and “Biggest Airport in the World,” taking them precariously into a miserable life.
The 32-year-old singer arrived five minutes before he went on for his first show because his camper broke down. He left his second show with sweat pouring off his hair and brow and the audience writhing in the gutter.
Jack Greene, the country gentleman, lifted them out partially, mourning of love affairs that didn’t work and some that did. These included “The Party’s Going One,” “I’ll Keep on Dreamin’,” “Birmingham” and others.
Greene’s grave voice varied from a trumpet to a whisper. His second show was strained and he had to back away from some of the high notes, but his first show reflected the man that swept four Country Music awards in 1967 and was nominated for a Grammy.
A member of his Greene Giants backup band, Bobby Whitton, did a bluegrass number borrowed from Earl Scruggs, and the audience came alive. Greene finished with a touching “Old Home Town” and his all-time great. The crowd was now prepared for the blockbuster, Miss Dolly.
The breasty blonde entered the spotlight in a pink, tighter-than-skin, sequined jumpsuit that left the crowd gasping. Piles of carefully coiffured strands of hair framed her face and her blue eyes sparkled. While she wouldn’t fit the part, her figure is similar to those of women advertising body-building equipment, curvacious. Her presence was enough. But she sang too, with a Tennessee mountain slang that would melt ice.
Loretta Lynn is being hard-pressed to hold her billing as queen of country. Dolly is anxious to wear the crown.
In 1975, the former partner of Porter Wagoner, was voted the Country Music Association’s female entertainer of the year, and Record World, Cash box and Billboard magazines’ top female singer. Dolly is now working on a series of 30-minute television shows to start in September.
Last night, her soprano voice carefully coaxed her listeners, lifting their spirits with “Joshua,” letting them reminisce on “My Tennessee Home” and laugh at her gimmicks and jokes.
She spoke a universal tongue, pouring syrup over the wounds exposed by Bandy and Greene, replacing vinegar with honeydew.
With childlike giggles and knowing winks, she hypnotized everyone. Most of her big hits were included: “Jolene,” her most profitable, “Love is like a Butterfly,” the tear-jerking “We Used To,” and “Me and Little Andy” and a total of 13 songs.
Miss Dolly appeared in an identically shaped jumpsuit for her second show, but this one was white and tighter if possible. The implication was angelic.
The plentifully-busomed singer received some kidding from her brother, a member of her backup band. If Dolly burned her bra as a women’s liberation gesture, “you would have to call the fire department,” he said.
The performers last night were country music’s original types, from humble origins. How does Dolly Parton’s background compare to the well-bred Olivia Newton-John, Linda Ronstadt or John Denver? It doesn’t. Dolly was one of 12 children born to a poor farm family living in the Great Smoky Mountains in east Tennessee. Bandy was a sheet metal worker in Texas and was born in Mississippi. How overnight success still has him dizzy. With money suddenly in hand, he went out and bought a Mark IV. Jack Greene was born in East Tennessee and started his music career in a local radio station at age 14.
Everybody doesn’t like C&W. It isn’t well-heeled or respected and it only relates to old folks, farmers and Appalachians, they say. There were Buicks and Chryslers in the parking lot last night beside the pickups. Everybody wore the most western-looking clothes they had, but their backgrounds, ages and occupations were diverse.
