As a mom of three, life is anything but calm. It's chaos. The one constant is bedtime — when we all pile into my bed, cuddle under the blankets, and the boys fight over which book we're reading first. (Secretly, I'm always trying to hide whichever book they've made me read every night for the last two months, just so we can finally pick a new one.)
Once we open the book, though, there's a stillness. Presence. The chaos of the day quiets, and we're all together.
For a while we were reading books about historical heroes — Albert Einstein, Amelia Earhart. My kids were rapt. They could tell you everything about them. But one night I realized: they could tell me what these people did a hundred years ago, and they couldn't tell me a single story about their own great-grandfather.
That's when the idea for Family Hero Books came.
I decided to start with my Papa Bud. He died when I was seven, so I had to call my uncle and my mom to gather stories. I learned the facts first — where he was born, what his father did, what he did. Then I asked the harder questions. Who was he as a person? How did he show up? What were the small things?
I remembered him only in flashes — sitting in the living room, my sisters and I “cutting” his hair even though he was completely bald. Most of the rest had been forgotten. But through the process of making this book, the essence of him came back. I started to feel his love and his presence again.
The book ended up being for me as much as it was for my kids.
I made it as a simple PDF on my computer, uploaded old photos, and read it to them. They loved it. They learned that their great-grandfather served in World War II, that he was shot in combat, that he came home with a Purple Heart. They started asking questions. To this day, they talk about him constantly — and every time his name comes up, my heart lifts.
When I started sharing this idea, the question I got most was: who should I make my book about? The truth is, it can be anyone. A grandparent who's passed. A parent who's still here. A sibling. A friend. The making of the book is the magic — and it's as much for you as it is for your kids.
My second book was about my mom, who's very much alive. Now my kids ask her about being a cheerleader, about Camp Nassau, about the songs she sang growing up. She sings them now, and they sing along. They know her differently because of the book.
Family Hero Books exists for that. The stories you carry deserve to be passed on. Not someday. Now.
— Shelby