This one will be the hardest to write.  She was one step ahead of me, one year older, my closest childhood companion, the sister I followed into the Methodist Orphan's Home in Macon.  And she died of polio on the threshold of life.  My husband and I were trying to sell our car in order to get her into an iron lung, but she died so quickly.  I named my first child Nan Edith Johnson, to honor her and to continue her name.