A Queen Among Queens

Gaye Youngman

When people think about the Murphysboro Apple Festival, they often think first about the big moments — the parade, the rides, the crowds lining Walnut Street, and the excitement of returning home each September.

But traditions like these don’t continue for 75 years by accident.

Behind them are people who give their time, year after year, helping others feel connected, welcomed, and valued.

Over the past several weeks, I’ve been lucky to share some of their stories through the Tell Me About YOUR Apple Festival interview series. But I also knew there were more stories than I could ever capture on video — more people and moments that deserve to be part of this history.

So we’re working now to broaden this storytelling project, creating a way for others to submit their own stories, photos, and videos. There will be more to come on that soon.

But before we get there, there’s another story I need to tell that doesn’t exactly fit into the interview series.

In the larger story of the Apple Festival, Gaye Youngman has been one of the main characters for me.

I first knew Gaye growing up simply as Beth’s mom. Beth and I were friends and teammates as children, and Gaye was always part of the familiar backdrop of community life that surrounded us growing up in Murphysboro.

But I really came to know her personally as a young woman through the Apple Festival pageant.

In 2002 and 2003, Gaye guided me through the experience as a contestant with a warmth and steadiness that left a lasting impression on me. Alongside co-chair Patty Thrailkill and a dedicated committee, she helped create the kind of welcoming, encouraging environment that has shaped generations of young women. Now, nearly 25 years later, they continue to guide and encourage young women through the very same tradition alongside Jessica White and Kelly Lattan.

But “pageant director” does not capture who Gaye really is — or her co-directors.

To so many contestants over the years, Gaye has felt more like a fairy godmother.

The kind of person who steps in before the nerves take over. The person who makes you feel calmer, more confident, and more capable than you felt moments before. The person who somehow makes every girl feel special, whether she leaves with a crown or not.

I still remember Gaye’s hug when I walked off stage as 2nd runner-up.

They create the kind of environment where young women feel valued, supported, encouraged, and confident enough to fully step onto that stage. Looking back now as a mother myself, I appreciate even more what a gift that is.

Many women spend decades shaping the confidence and experiences of younger generations without asking for recognition themselves. They become the steady presence in the background — the encouragers, the organizers, the people who make traditions welcoming enough to return to year after year.

Nearly 25 years after my first experience as a contestant, I found myself returning to Gaye again, this time not as a nervous teenager, but as an author hoping to collaborate with the festival that inspired my children’s book, Tell Me About Your Apple Festival.

And once again, she became a guide and champion.

As I began developing this project surrounding the festival’s 75th anniversary, Gaye encouraged the vision, helped open conversations, and supported the idea that stories and traditions matter. Especially the ones passed down through generations.

I had hoped to interview Gaye as part of this storytelling series, but I came to understand that wasn’t going to be possible. Still, I couldn’t not tell this story.

Because in many ways, Gaye has been part of nearly every story I’ve told.

Any time someone I interviewed had a question about Apple Festival history, they reached out to Gaye. More than once, I would ask someone a question they couldn’t quite answer, and hours or days later, an email from Gaye would arrive in my inbox with the missing detail.

A name. A year. A photo. The piece of the story we needed.

It became clear to me that Gaye doesn’t just know the history of the Apple Festival pageant. She holds it in her heart.

And maybe that says more than any interview ever could.

For decades, she has been one of the people shaping the stories, remembering the names, and connecting one generation to the next. Even when she wasn’t sitting across from me answering questions herself, she was there — as part of the memories of the people who were.

The video I’m sharing with this story was taken in 1966. Gaye’s sister, Debbie, had just been named first runner-up, and you can see Debbie pulling a reluctant Gaye into the frame.

More than half a century later, that moment feels remarkably true to who Gaye still is.

She is still reluctant to have the spotlight on herself. Too busy helping others shine.

And maybe that is the story of Gaye.

For decades, she has stood behind generations of young women, helping them find their confidence, step onto the stage, and have their moment in the spotlight.

That full-circle experience has stayed with me throughout this journey.

As I’ve worked on the book and the accompanying community storytelling series, I’ve thought often about the bigger idea at the heart of both projects: traditions connect us across miles and time. But traditions don’t sustain themselves. They require our participation. And they require the leadership of people like Gaye, Patty, Jessica, Kelly and the many volunteers who continue showing up to help carry them forward.

People who devote countless unseen hours to communities, celebrations, and young people — not for recognition, but because they genuinely care about preserving something meaningful for the next generation.

The Murphysboro Apple Festival has lasted 75 years because of people like that.

And I’m grateful that some of them helped shape my own story.

When I started this book, I thought I was telling my story. And to a degree, I am. But I’ve come to understand that the story is much bigger than mine.

The people I encountered while trying to bring this book into the world — the conversations, connections, and unexpected turns that at first sometimes felt like obstacles — became part of the story, too. In fact, they became the stories I most wanted to tell.

Because behind every tradition that lasts, there are people working to ensure it does.

People like Gaye, who spend years helping others find the confidence to step onto the stage and shine.

She may be reluctant to step into the frame herself.

But she has spent a lifetime helping others shine.

A queen among queens.