Part 4
But here’s the twist: Dolly kept the publishing. And years later, Whitney Houston recorded 'I Will Always Love You' for The Bodyguard. And that version became one of the best-selling singles of all time. Dolly got the publishing. She got the royalties. She got the last laugh. But she still wonders what Elvis would have done with it. 'I loved Elvis,' she says. And you believe her.
So when you ask, 'Wait, Elvis almost sang 'I Will Always Love You'?' The answer is yes. And the reason it didn’t happen is the same reason Dolly Parton is a legend: she knew her worth. She wasn’t going to give away her livelihood for a moment of glory. That’s a lesson for every artist, every songwriter, every person trying to make it. Own your work. Own your publishing. And if Elvis calls? Well, maybe you say yes. But only if you keep the rights.
That’s the kind of story that makes you love Dolly more. Not because she’s perfect, but because she’s smart. She’s been playing the long game since she was a teenager stealing shoulder pads. And she’s still winning.
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Next up: Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, and the 9 to 5 musical that won’t quit. Trust me, you’re not ready.
Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, and the 9 to 5 Musical That Won't Quit
Dolly Parton was 17 the first time she saw Johnny Cash live. She’s told the story before, but it still lands like a thunderclap: she stood in that audience and felt things she’d never felt before. Not just butterflies—something deeper, a pull she couldn’t name. That was her introduction to sex appeal, and it came wrapped in a black suit and a voice like gravel and honey. She wasn’t just watching a star; she was watching magnetism in its purest form. And she loved him for it. Not in a gossipy way—in a way that recognized something holy about an icon who could command a room without raising his voice.
June Carter Cash was right there with him. Dolly was close to both of them—Johnny and June—and she’s always spoken about them with a reverence that doesn’t feel like showbiz politeness. It feels like truth. She’s said you can spot that kind of special immediately. It’s not about looks or hits or even talent, exactly. It’s a frequency. Johnny had it. June had it. And Dolly, even at 17, knew she was in the presence of something that doesn’t come around twice.
That’s the thing about icons. You don’t have to be a country music historian to feel it. You just have to be in the room. Or, in Dolly’s case, in the audience at 17, already dreaming of a life that would put her on the same stages. She didn’t just admire Johnny Cash. She studied him. And she carried that lesson into everything she built—including a certain theme park in the Smoky Mountains that just turned 25.
The Man in Black and the Teenage Dolly
Let’s stay with Johnny for a second, because there’s a bigger point here. Dolly has always been drawn to artists who are unmistakably themselves. Johnny Cash didn’t try to be anyone else. He wore black, sang about prisoners and pain and redemption, and married June Carter, who was every bit his equal. That authenticity is the throughline in Dolly’s own career. She’s never tried to sand off her edges. She’s never pretended to be something she’s not. And when she saw Johnny at 17, she got a masterclass in what it means to own your weirdness, your hunger, your heart.
She’s also said she loved him—and June—as people. That matters. In a business full of transactional relationships, Dolly has always been about genuine connection. She doesn’t just collect famous friends; she builds family. And the Cash family was part of hers. That’s why when she talks about Johnny, it’s not a name-drop. It’s a memory. It’s personal. It’s the kind of thing you’d tell a friend over a drink, not a reporter.
Now, shift to Hank Williams. Dolly calls him the first huge country star. A wonderful writer. Dead at 27. That’s the tragedy that hangs over everything. Hank wrote songs that have been recorded all over the world, in every style you can imagine. Country, pop, rock, jazz—his melodies are so sturdy they can survive any arrangement. “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.” “Your Cheatin’ Heart.” “Hey Good Lookin’.” These aren’t just old country songs. They’re American standards. And he was gone before he turned 30.
The interviewer mentions there’s a celebration of Hank’s life happening, and that’s the perfect pivot to talk about legacy. Because Dollywood itself is a legacy project. It’s not just a theme park. It’s a living monument to the people of the Smoky Mountains, to the music that came out of that holler, to the idea that you can build something that outlasts you. Hank Williams left songs. Dolly Parton is leaving a whole world. Both are ways of saying: I was here. I mattered. And you can visit.
From the Opry to the 9 to 5 Musical
The Grand Ole Opry and Nashville are the heart and soul of country music. Dolly doesn’t tell a specific Opry story in this interview—and I’m not going to invent one. But the interviewer brings it up, and it’s worth acknowledging that the Opry is the mother church. It’s where careers are christened, where legends are made, where the circle remains unbroken. Dolly’s relationship with the Opry is deep and long, but since she didn’t share a new anecdote here, we’ll leave it at that. No fake stories. Just respect.
