Country music legend Dolly Parton once pulled a gun from her purse when an aggressive man wouldn’t leave her alone on a New York City street — and she’s carried a .38 ever since.
The revelation offers a striking glimpse into a side of Parton rarely discussed in mainstream media coverage of her career. While the singer-songwriter is beloved worldwide for her music, acting roles, and philanthropic work through the Imagination Library, this decades-old incident reveals how a frightening moment of vulnerability shaped her personal security choices for life.
Parton recounted the harrowing encounter during an October 14, 2005, appearance on Late Night With Conan O’Brien. The incident happened in the late 1960s or early 1970s when she and her then-assistant Judy Ogle made their first trip to New York City.
This was a pivotal time in Parton’s career. She was transitioning from regional success to national stardom, making the kinds of trips to major cities that would become routine for a performer of her caliber. But at that moment, she was still a young woman from rural Tennessee navigating an unfamiliar and often intimidating urban landscape.
Neither had been to NYC before. They got a hotel room, left their bags, and went out to explore the city. When they returned, the hotel staff thought the two women “were turning tricks” and kicked them out.
The assumption by hotel staff underscores the challenges women faced traveling alone during that era, particularly women from the South whose appearance and mannerisms didn’t conform to cosmopolitan expectations. Being ejected from their lodging left Parton and Ogle in a vulnerable position, stranded in an unfamiliar city without shelter.
“We asked if we could please, at least, leave our stuff in the lobby. So we were out waiting around until time to leave, and we were walking down the street. We didn’t know where to go.”
They wound up on 42nd Street by accident. That’s when a man mistook them for prostitutes and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
For context, 42nd Street in that era was notorious for its seedy reputation, a far cry from the family-friendly Times Square district it would eventually become after major urban renewal efforts in the 1990s. The two women had inadvertently wandered into one of the city’s most dangerous areas at what was arguably its most dangerous time.
“At that time, I was a country girl from the mountains,” Parton said. “I had a gun in my purse.”
When O’Brien asked in disbelief if she really had a gun in her purse, Parton confirmed: “I had a gun in my purse, and this guy wouldn’t leave me alone cause he was just sure I was playing hard to get [and] that I was really after it.”
Her matter-of-fact tone during the interview reflected a cultural reality often overlooked in discussions about firearms and self-defense. For many people raised in rural America during the mid-20th century, carrying a firearm for protection was as routine as carrying a wallet. It wasn’t a political statement but a practical safety measure, particularly for women traveling alone or in unfamiliar territory.
The man refused to back off.
“I didn’t know how to get him off me,” Parton said, “so I just pulled my gun out and I said, ‘If you touch me one more time I’m gonna shoot you.'”
It worked. The man left.
The outcome illustrates what self-defense advocates often describe as the deterrent effect of armed defense. Parton never had to fire the weapon; the mere presence of it and her willingness to use it if necessary was enough to end the threat. In that moment, the firearm served its ultimate purpose—preventing violence rather than causing it.
Reflecting on the encounter years later, Parton told NRA Women: “I was terrified, and I was mad too.”
The magazine noted that Parton “certainly doesn’t intend on ever feeling that way again” — the 11-time Grammy winner has carried a .38 ever since.
That she has maintained this practice for more than five decades, even as she achieved global fame and presumably gained access to professional security, speaks to how profoundly the experience affected her. The incident became a defining moment in how Parton approached her personal safety, informing decisions she would make for the rest of her life.
The story resurfaced this week as a reminder that armed self-defense isn’t abstract theory. For Dolly Parton, it was the difference between getting away safely and a situation spiraling out of control on a dark New York City street. Her experience adds a personal dimension to ongoing debates about women’s safety and the right to self-protection, showing how one terrifying moment can shape a lifetime of choices.
