Dolly Parton played MerleFest for the only time in 2001.
Never afraid to hop genres, Dolly had just returned to the music that arguably was closest to her heart, the songs from the Appalachian Mountains. Both of her bluegrass albums, "The Grass is Blue" (1999) and "Little Sparrow" (2001), were absolute delights and critically praised. Dolly could sing pop, cosmopolitan country, gospel, anything, but when she wrapped her sweet voice around an old mountain number, "Farther Along," for instance, you could picture the mist settling in the hollers of her beloved Smoky Mountains.
Her infamous generosity and reverence for a festival put together by flatpicking legend Doc Watson were on full display at MerleFest in 2001. She held a press conference a few days before her performance and answered a lot of questions, including one I lobbed at her about her bluegrass roots. The press corps included author Lee Smith, one of the best chroniclers of mountain life.
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"Well, there's Lee Smith," Dolly said.
Being in the presence of Dolly Parton and Lee Smith. Let's just say it was a good day on the job.
A few days later, my husband and I took our 2 1/2-year-old daughter, Claire, to Dolly's show on the main Watson Stage. Her crack band included Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas, Stuart Duncan and Chris Thile, then a 20-year-old mandolin hotshot. Dolly teased him relentlessly about his young age. She was flirty, too, in that PG way that she could be.
At one point, a bug flew into her mouth. She stopped mid-song and asked the band to start again. The song was being recorded for the MerleFest archives, and she wanted it to be perfect.
Dolly put a bluegrass spin on an old Southern rocker, "Train Train," and the Collective Soul smash from the 1990s, "Shine."
Doc Watson joined her on stage, and just short of a million falling stars, it was as magical as a moment can be.
Our evening was about to hit a climax when she launched into "I Will Always Love You" for her final song. Claire, who was newly potty-trained, was sitting on my lap. As the big finish neared, I felt a pool of warmth spread across my knee. Poor Claire didn't understand that this was a moment when you just needed to hold your bladder. We hustled out of the crowd as she wrapped up and headed to my mother-in-law's camper on the MerleFest grounds.
When I interviewed Bush a few years ago, he said that set is one of his favorite MerleFest memories. And he's been to every single one.
As an audience member who's been to about 20 MerleFests, I'd have to agree, urine-soaked knee be darned.
Rest well, Dolly. I'll see you in that Smoky Mountains' mist.
