The Name’s Hall. Shelby Hall.
Somewhere in the desert outside Reno, Nevada, kneeling in front of a towering sagebrush, five-year-old Shelby Hall grins for the camera. She’s wearing her signature uniform: a car-themed t-shirt (today it’s Hummer), a pair of hand-me-down jean shorts and her pink sparkly cowgirl boots. She’s just pushed her dark brunette bangs aside to get a better look at her freshly-plucked prize — a handful of dusty Nevadan dirt.
It may as well be fairy dust.