My very first 4th of July memory was with my family on the banks of the Trinity River, watching a reenactment of Washington crossing the Delaware River. This was the 1976 celebration of the 200th birthday of America. But it was nothing compared to the greatest day, July 3, 1976. On that magical night my sister Kerri and I were taken to see the KING, the one and only Elvis Arron Presley at the Tarrant County Convention Center. Our dad’s good friend Larry Edwards was “The Kings” biggest fan in Fort Worth. He was a good man that was babysitting two little girls and what better way to entertain them than to take them to see his hero. I can honestly tell you I have no memory of this show but I do have a sincere appreciation of his music and have met many impersonators since.

July also meant it was time for my beloved Aunt LaLa’s annual cookout. I am very thankful for the 44 years I had with her.  She was hilarious with the driest sense of humor and her laugh was contagious. We all loved seeing her and my mom interact because you never knew what story would be told. As I look at my cousins Craig, Becky, Gretchen and Curtis, I know that she lives on in each one of them.

My Julys took on a whole new meaning in 1998 when the awesome John Pace Storey came into my life. Pace was born 55 years to the hour after my dad, Johnny. My grandfather JD (John Dee) was also there to share in his arrival. I had three generations of Johns in one room and felt quite blessed. Fast forward now 17 years and I can tell you I still feel the exact same way I did July 28, 1998.

This issue is an eclectic group of stories celebrating what this month has meant to them.

We hope you enjoy,