I ordered 500 copies of my debut children’s book fully expecting to spend the next several years working my way through boxes in our basement. Then 122 people showed up for our very first Storytime, and the community that inspired Tell Me About Your Apple Festival gave this little book a beginning I never could have imagined.

Twenty-five years ago, the 9/11 attacks stopped the world. The next day, after a thoughtful decision to move forward, the Murphysboro Apple Festival began. I was 17 and preparing to compete in the Miss Apple Festival pageant for the first time. I remember both experiences vividly—but strangely, I don’t remember them together. Twenty-five years later, I understand something about that week that I couldn’t have understood then.

For decades, Gaye Youngman has helped generations of young women step into the spotlight. Nearly 25 years after she guided me through the Apple Festival pageant, I found our stories connected again and discovered just how many pieces of Apple Festival history are linked to hers.

A butter crust seems too dry, so you want to add water. But what it really needs is more butter. A lot of things in life are like that. Sometimes the instinctual way to solve a problem is the exact opposite of what it needs—including a practice pie, three little kids, and the temptation to get something done cleanly and quietly.

Whatever happened to the regional celebrity? An old Apple Festival film got me thinking about Marty Bronson, influencers, local media—and what happens every September when, somehow, we all end up downtown.

Tell Me About YOUR Apple Festival is an interview series inspired by my debut children's book, Tell Me About Your Apple Festival, and my love for the community that inspired it. Created as my gift to the Murphysboro Apple Festival in celebration of its 75th year, this series celebrates the people, traditions, and stories that have shaped our festival for generations.

The people featured represent just a small sample of the many individuals whose stories have shaped the festival. Every story adds another chapter to our community's history.

Some traditions stay the same. Others have to change. As America celebrates its 250th year, I'm reflecting on the Fourth of Julys that shaped my childhood—from fireworks on Clay Street and Grandma Betty's apple strudel to the new traditions my own family is creating today. What we can't pass on exactly as it was, we carry with us and reshape for the next generation.

When I first started writing Tell Me About Your Apple Festival, I wrote an alternate version of the story.

In that version, I never mentioned Murphysboro.

I thought removing the specificity of place might make the story more universal. Instead, it taught me that the most important character in my story wasn't a person at all.

It was a place.

This is the story of how I discovered that every story may begin not just with once upon a time... but once upon a place.

I thought I was writing a children's book about the Murphysboro Apple Festival.

What I didn't expect was to spend the next year collecting yeses—and watching the message at the heart of the book come to life in ways I never imagined.

What can a seventy-five-year-old hometown tradition tell us about a nation approaching its 250th birthday?

Over the past week, I interviewed members of the Murphysboro community about the Apple Festival. Their answers revealed why many consider it the heartbeat of our town, and why I believe towns like Murphysboro are the heartbeat of America.

Nine months ago, I was sitting in a dealership waiting room researching self-publishing on my phone. Today, the book is headed to print, and I'm reflecting on the unexpected journey from idea to publication—and the traditions, community, and faith that shaped it along the way.

What do German weather patterns and ice cream sales have to do with publishing a children’s book?

More than I realized.

A reflection on the most valuable skill advertising taught me, and how I’m using it twenty years later while learning how to publish and promote my first book.

What makes a great pie isn’t written in any cookbook or recipe card. You won’t find it in this blog either, but it’s a nice read all the same.

Nostalgia leaves us longing. Tradition brings us back, again and again.