A Tale Of Two Queens

Dolly Parton at The Imagination Library 10th anniversary: “I hope I’ll be remembered as somebody that tried to do some good. We need to believe in something bigger than ourselves.”

Queen Elizabeth, at age 21, in Cape Town: “My whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service.”

As I was processing the death of country music legend Dolly Parton, I noticed my gut-level emotions felt familiar. I don’t often get emotional over the loss of public figures. The last time I cried when someone “famous” died was on September 10th, 2025, when I watched, like the rest of the nation, the news of the murder of Charlie Kirk. It was a watershed moment, and I felt it in my bones.

What I felt yesterday was different. A wave of sadness hit me, but it wasn’t the same. With Kirk, we were watching a young life cut short. A malevolent act of violence attacked all of us in that moment, and it felt intrusive in a personal way. I immediately knew it was linked to evil and pernicious motives.

With Dolly, the hurt was a softer mourning... buffered by the comfort that she had lived a long life. Then I realized the last time I felt this sadness mingled with sharp gratitude for something we don’t often see in public life.

It was the day that Queen Elizabeth II passed.

For days I wondered why I, an American, would feel a sense of profound loss over a Queen who wasn’t even "mine”. She had served faithfully for nearly 70 years and, by all accounts, led her country with scandal-free dignity and care. She lived a good life, and the people of Britain were grateful, so why was I so sad?

I felt that again yesterday as the tributes for Dolly started rolling in, and although I love Dolly like everyone else, I wasn’t a superfan. So, why the weird ache? I tried to nail it down all afternoon, and it finally dawned on me while driving home from dinner. The late Queen Elizabeth and our American queen Dolly embodied two qualities that are something increasingly rare, but desperately needed right now.

Consistency and authenticity.

Queen Elizabeth's passing, after seven decades at the helm, was a feat we will certainly not see again in our lifetime. During her tenure, she respectfully and confidently oversaw the Cold War, decolonization, the Space Race, the civil-rights movement, the Moon landing, the Vietnam War, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the end of apartheid, the rise of the internet, 9/11, the global financial crisis, Brexit, the COVID-19 pandemic, and the first moments of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Toward the end of her reign, she sat alone in St George’s Chapel and watched the funeral of her late husband. Her reign overlapped 14 U.S. Presidents' terms, and yet she kept her political preferences and opinions close to the vest.

When she died in September 2022, 250,000 people filed past her coffin as she lay in state at Westminster Hall. Around the world, dignitaries and leaders noted that she was a consistent force: a woman thrust into a role at an exceptionally young age who never wavered in her call to serve the people of the great commonwealth with excellence. Her authenticity was observable to anyone who studied her time on this earth. She remained precisely true to who she was. Say what you will about the monarchy, but the Queen was untouchably exemplary in her role.

And so we come to Dolly. A completely different entity, but similar in one defining feature. Dolly was who she was, for her entire life. She was born into poverty in the East Tennessee mountains but rose to the highest heights of fame, never forgetting (instead honoring, time and again) her roots and the foundation that built her. She consistently gave away from the treasure trove of blessings bestowed upon her - from her Imagination Library, which has gifted upward of 300 million books for free, to a variety of other philanthropic and humanitarian endeavors. In general, she stayed out of politics (no small feat in Hollywood), choosing instead to highlight the kindness in everyone she met and use music to knit together a tapestry of humanity. One that, to my way of thinking, can only be done by someone who has known both want and need in a visceral way. She never wavered in her messaging. She was the same Dolly in 2026 as she was when she broke onto the national country-music scene in 1967.

It’s all too common for people to get mired in the minutiae of any notable public figure’s life and, in doing so, they completely lose the arc. If we do that with Queen Elizabeth or Dolly, I think we are missing an opportunity to witness two quickly vanishing character traits that ought to be pursued.

Dolly Parton told us everything about who she was - bedazzled in rhinestones while she did it - and stayed exactly who she was. Queen Elizabeth told us very little (notably, she never sat down for a public interview in her 71 years) and yet remained steady throughout the years. A promise made by a 21-year-old that was kept for decades while sitting on a throne, and another made by a young woman born in a shack, and kept for years in an industry that will steal your soul.

Across the pond in 2022, a quarter million people lined up against the Thames to remember their formidable yet gentle queen, and now our country collectively grieves a towering, one-of-a-kind, glittery icon. And what made them great was this:

Both queens were the same at the end as they were at the beginning.