
August birthdays are like the last cannonball into the summer pool — big, splashy, and a little bittersweet. School is looming, but August folks insist we squeeze every last drop of sunshine first.
Join us as we salute the stars who own the dog days of summer. They’re proof that even the hottest month can be cool when you know how to celebrate it.
Gene Simmons turned playing bass into a job that apparently also required platform boots, dragon makeup, fire breathing, blood spitting and a tongue famous enough to deserve separate billing. As co-founder of KISS and the fearsome “Demon” onstage, Simmons helped prove that rock music could be part concert, part theater and part controlled explosion—and then discovered there was probably a way to merchandise the explosion.
August 25, 1949, in Haifa, Israel
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John Mulaney has turned nervous energy, immaculate suits, childhood embarrassment and the peculiar behavior of ordinary people into a remarkably successful career. He helped create one of Saturday Night Live's strangest recurring characters, became one of America's leading stand-up comedians and somehow made stories about doctors, horses and childhood detectives sound like matters of national importance.
August 26, 1982, in Chicago, Illinois
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Demi Lovato has been performing professionally since childhood, which means most people were still figuring out homework while Lovato was already accumulating television credits. From Barney & Friends and Disney Channel stardom to Camp Rock, chart-topping albums, major pop hits and a career that has repeatedly reinvented itself, Lovato has spent more than two decades in the public eye. That is an impressive amount of show business before you even consider the microphones, movie sets, concert tours and enough hair-color changes to keep a salon permanently occupied.
August 20, 1992, in Albuquerque, New Mexico
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Almost immediately upon arriving in Hollywood, Edward Norton gave audiences the impression that trusting one of his characters might be a very poor life decision. His extraordinary debut in Primal Fear was followed by American History X, Fight Club, The Illusionist, Birdman and an assortment of characters ranging from criminals and magicians to scientists and extremely committed method actors. Norton has also become a director, producer, writer, environmental advocate and entrepreneur, apparently having concluded that merely being a three-time Academy Award nominee wasn't enough to fill the week.
August 18, 1969, in Boston, Massachusetts
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Kyle Massey became a Disney Channel favorite as Cory Baxter on That's So Raven, playing the younger brother who could usually be relied upon to spot a money-making opportunity—and considerably less reliably be expected to think it through. The character proved popular enough to earn his own series, sending Cory all the way to the White House, where absolutely nothing could possibly go wrong.
August 28, 1991, in Atlanta, Georgia
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Emily Hampshire has turned deadpan sarcasm into something approaching an Olympic event, winning audiences over as Stevie Budd on Schitt’s Creek while building a career filled with comedy, drama, science fiction and characters who frequently look as though they have already heard your excuse and aren't buying a word of it.
August 29, 1981, in Montreal, Quebec
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Taissa Farmiga has spent a remarkable portion of her acting career surrounded by ghosts, witches, demons, murderous nuns and assorted things that sensible people would immediately leave the house to avoid. Instead, she keeps showing up for work. From American Horror Story to The Nun, Farmiga has become one of modern horror's most familiar faces, despite originally having no particular ambition to become an actress at all. She once considered becoming an accountant, which presumably involves fewer demonic possessions but considerably more terrifying spreadsheets.
August 17, 1994, in Whitehouse Station, New Jersey
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Lamorne Morris has built a career proving that being the funniest person in the room can occasionally lead somewhere other than detention. He went from getting into trouble at school for telling jokes to playing the wonderfully peculiar Winston Bishop on New Girl, hosting television shows, appearing in major movies and eventually winning an Emmy for playing a thoroughly serious state trooper in Fargo. Along the way he has demonstrated impressive dramatic ability, excellent comic timing and an important professional survival skill: when someone hands you a strange television character with a cat named Ferguson, lean into it.
August 14, 1983, in Chicago, Illinois
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Stephen McKinley Henderson spent decades becoming one of America's most respected stage actors before Hollywood audiences finally caught up, proving that there is no expiration date on being exceptionally good at your job. From August Wilson's Fences to the enormous science-fiction world of Dune, Henderson has the wonderful ability to walk quietly into a scene and somehow make everybody else seem considerably noisier.
August 31, 1949, in Kansas City, Missouri
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Tom Skerritt has spent more than six decades playing the sort of man you'd trust to command a spaceship, run a small-town sheriff's department or teach you to fly a fighter jet—which is unfortunate, because Alien suggests the spaceship assignment may require further consideration. With that unmistakable voice and weathered authority, Skerritt became one of Hollywood's most dependable actors without ever needing to make much noise about it.
August 25, 1933, in Detroit, Michigan
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Lucas Till is the kind of guy who can walk into a disaster scene, grab a rubber band, and somehow save everyone in under 45 minutes—commercial breaks included. He’s like that friend who claims they can “totally fix it” but, unlike your friend, actually does. If MacGyver ever needed a stunt double for charming smirks alone, Lucas would still be the top choice.
August 10, 1990, in Fort Hood, Texas
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Neil Armstrong traveled nearly a quarter of a million miles, landed a fragile spacecraft on another world with fuel running dangerously low, and then stepped outside as hundreds of millions of people watched. Most of us become flustered when someone watches us parallel park. Armstrong handled the most closely observed arrival in human history with the calm manner of a man who appeared to be checking whether the Moon had been delivered in satisfactory condition.
August 5, 1930, near Wapakoneta, Ohio
August 25, 2012, in Cincinnati, Ohio
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Life has a funny way of changing careers. One day you're memorizing courtroom dialogue for a television drama, and the next you're learning centuries-old royal traditions, attending state events, and discovering that every hat you wear will be analyzed by someone, somewhere. Meghan Markle's journey from Hollywood actress to Duchess of Sussex is one of the most talked-about life stories of the twenty-first century, proving that sometimes the most unexpected plot twists happen off-screen.
August 4, 1981, in Los Angeles, California
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Craig Kilborn went from college basketball to SportsCenter, launched The Daily Show, inherited a CBS late-night desk and then did something almost unheard of in television: he voluntarily walked away from it. Apparently, nobody told him fame was supposed to be the difficult habit to break.
August 24, 1962, in Kansas City, Missouri
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Rudolf Schenker co-founded Scorpions, plays the sort of rhythm guitar capable of rearranging nearby furniture, and has spent more than half a century helping turn a German band into an international rock institution. If you've ever attempted an air-guitar performance of “Rock You Like a Hurricane,” Rudolf deserves at least part of the blame.
August 31, 1948, in Hildesheim, West Germany
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Scott Bakula is the only man who could time-travel, command a starship, and still make it home in time for dinner. He’s got that rare “friendly neighbor who also happens to be a sci-fi icon” vibe, and he somehow makes every role feel like you’ve known the guy forever. If Hollywood ever runs out of leading men, they can just have Bakula leap into the part—he’ll fix the timeline, deliver a killer performance, and probably sing the closing credits.
October 9, 1954, in St. Louis, Missouri
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Kobe Bryant spent 20 seasons proving that basketball hoops apparently become considerably larger when the game is on the line. With five NBA championships, 18 All-Star selections, an 81-point game and one of the fiercest competitive reputations in sports, Bryant turned difficult shots into ordinary business and ordinary shots into something he occasionally considered too easy. His relentless approach became known as the “Mamba Mentality,” which sounds considerably more impressive than “refusing to quit until everybody else has gone home.”
August 23, 1978, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
January 26, 2020, in Calabasas, California
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Melissa McCarthy can steal a movie with a look, destroy a room with a handbag and turn an ordinary argument into something requiring emergency services. From Gilmore Girls to Bridesmaids, Spy and beyond, she has built a career proving that great comedy requires impeccable timing, complete commitment and absolutely no concern whatsoever for maintaining one's dignity.
August 26, 1970, in Plainfield, Illinois
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Merritt Wever is living proof that you don’t have to shout to be heard — sometimes all it takes is a perfectly timed pause, a sideways glance, and the kind of delivery that makes every other actor in the room wonder why they even bothered learning their lines.
August 11, 1980, in New York City
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Michael Urie doesn’t just deliver lines—he fires them off like a martini-fueled gossip columnist with a standing invite to every fashion week. He can go from snarky sidekick to heartfelt leading man in the blink of a perfectly arched eyebrow. If sass were a martial art, Urie would be a black belt with a Tony Award and a signature fragrance.
August 8, 1980, Houston, Texas
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Even at the tender age of six, JonBenét Ramsey had more crowns than most adults have houseplants. With a smile that could light up a stadium and stage presence to rival seasoned performers, she wasn’t just a beauty queen—she was the whole royal court. Whether she was twirling in a sparkly dress or charming a crowd with her poise, JonBenét somehow made it look effortless, like she was born ready for a spotlight… and a sash.
August 6, 1990, in Atlanta, Georgia
December 26, 1996, in Boulder, Colorado
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On September 14, 1814, lawyer Francis Scott Key was inspired to write the poem that eventually became the lyrics of the United States national anthem, “The Star-Spangled Banner.” During the War of 1812, British forces had captured Washington, D.C., and burned several major public buildings before turning their attention toward Baltimore. Key became involved after his friend, physician William Beanes, was taken prisoner by the British. He helped negotiate Beanes' release, but because the Americans had learned details of the planned attack, they were required to remain with the British fleet until the assault on Baltimore was completed.
From aboard a vessel in the Patapsco River, Key watched as British ships bombarded Fort McHenry through the night of September 13 and into the morning of September 14. When daylight came, the enormous American flag flying above the fort was still visible, showing that the defenders had held their position and the British attack had failed. Moved by the sight, Key began writing verses that became a four-stanza poem titled “Defence of Fort M'Henry.” It was soon published and sung to the melody of “To Anacreon in Heaven,” a British song composed by John Stafford Smith. Over time, Key's poem became better known by the title of its opening imagery, “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
Key, born August 1, 1779, in Maryland, was a prominent lawyer who later served as U.S. attorney for the District of Columbia. His song became increasingly associated with patriotic and official occasions, and President Woodrow Wilson directed that it be played at appropriate military and naval ceremonies in 1916. Congress formally designated “The Star-Spangled Banner” as the national anthem, with President Herbert Hoover signing the measure into law on March 3, 1931. Key did not live to see what became of his composition; he died on January 11, 1843, decades before his hastily written verses became the official musical symbol of the United States.
On September 14, 1964, Kellogg's introduced the toaster pastry that would become Pop-Tarts, although the company was not the first to announce the idea. Rival Post had already publicized plans for a shelf-stable, fruit-filled pastry called Country Squares but revealed the concept before the product was ready for widespread sale. Kellogg's recognized the opportunity and moved quickly, turning to William “Bill” Post, then working at the Hekman Biscuit Company in Michigan, to help develop a pastry that could survive both the supermarket shelf and a trip through the family toaster. Post and his team experimented with dough, fillings and production methods, with his children reportedly serving as enthusiastic taste testers along the way.
Kellogg's initially considered calling its creation Fruit Scones before settling on the far more memorable Pop-Tarts, a name that played nicely with the popularity of Pop Art during the 1960s. The original unfrosted pastries appeared in four flavors—strawberry, blueberry, brown sugar cinnamon and apple currant—and the early test market was enormously successful. Demand quickly outran supply, forcing Kellogg's to publish advertisements apologizing to customers because it had run out. Frosting arrived a few years later after the company developed a version capable of surviving toaster temperatures without melting into a sugary disaster, followed by sprinkles, additional flavors and Milton the Toaster, an animated mascot who helped promote the increasingly popular breakfast treat.
What began as a hurried response to a competitor became one of Kellogg's most recognizable products. William Post is frequently described as the inventor of Pop-Tarts, although he always emphasized that their creation was a team effort, and Kellogg's has also credited company executive William “Doc” Thompson and the people involved in developing the product. Over the following decades, Pop-Tarts expanded far beyond those original four flavors and became as much a snack as a breakfast food. Billions are now sold annually—a remarkable outcome for something that began with a few people looking at two pieces of dough with filling between them and essentially asking, “Do you reckon we can put this in a toaster?”
On September 14, 1974, Eric Clapton reached No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 with “I Shot the Sheriff,” a song written and recorded the previous year by Bob Marley and the Wailers for their album Burnin'. It became the only No. 1 single of Clapton's career in the United States, but the man singing it had been surprisingly uncomfortable about releasing it. Clapton admired Marley's original and understood reggae well enough to worry that his own recording didn't capture what made the music special. He later recalled thinking that his version shouldn't even be included on his album 461 Ocean Boulevard, much less released as a single, because he felt it wasn't fair to Marley and that his interpretation had given the song too much of a white rock feel. His American bandmates were considerably more enthusiastic, and eventually Clapton allowed himself to be persuaded.
His concern became even more understandable when the record took off. Marley's version had already been released, but Clapton's recording suddenly carried the song onto mainstream American radio and all the way to the top of the chart. Clapton subsequently spoke with Marley and was relieved to discover that the songwriter appeared pleased with what he had done. Marley later recalled that Clapton had asked him about the meaning of the song, while Clapton remembered struggling to understand parts of Marley's explanation. Whatever uncertainty remained about the interpretation, there seemed to be no lasting uncertainty about Marley's acceptance of the cover.
The irony was that the recording Clapton worried might unfairly overshadow Bob Marley ultimately helped bring enormous attention to him. Island Records founder Chris Blackwell later described Clapton's cover as a major breakthrough for Marley, because one of rock's biggest stars had effectively pointed his enormous audience toward the Jamaican songwriter whose work he admired. The official Bob Marley history similarly credits Clapton's recording with significantly increasing Marley's international profile. So while September 14, 1974, marks Eric Clapton reaching No. 1, the longer story belongs to both musicians: Clapton received the biggest American single of his career from a Bob Marley song, while millions of listeners who heard Clapton's version were given a reason to discover the man who had written it in the first place.
On September 14, 1982, Princess Grace of Monaco died at the age of 52, one day after suffering serious injuries when the car she was driving left a steep mountain road above Monaco. Her youngest daughter, Princess Stéphanie, was traveling with her and survived. Before becoming European royalty, Princess Grace had been Grace Kelly of Philadelphia, one of Hollywood's most celebrated stars of the 1950s. In a remarkably brief film career, she became known for an elegant screen presence that made her particularly memorable in Alfred Hitchcock's Dial M for Murder, Rear Window and To Catch a Thief. She also starred opposite Gary Cooper in High Noon and won the Academy Award for Best Actress for her performance alongside Bing Crosby in The Country Girl.
Born in Philadelphia on November 12, 1929, Kelly studied acting at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York and supported herself through modeling and television work while pursuing stage roles. After appearing on Broadway and making her way into motion pictures, her rise was extraordinarily rapid. By the middle of the 1950s she was one of Hollywood's leading actresses, working with stars including James Stewart, Cary Grant, Clark Gable, Ava Gardner and Frank Sinatra. Yet at the height of that success, Kelly walked away from Hollywood. After meeting Prince Rainier III of Monaco in 1955, she married him in an elaborate ceremony the following April and became Princess Grace. Her final feature film, the musical High Society, was released in 1956, bringing an acting career of only a few years to a close.
Princess Grace and Prince Rainier had three children—Caroline, Albert and Stéphanie—and she spent the remainder of her life carrying out royal and charitable duties in Monaco. On September 13, 1982, while driving home with Stéphanie, Grace lost control of her Rover on the winding road near Monaco and the vehicle plunged down a steep slope. Early reports attributed the crash to a stroke suffered while she was driving, although the precise circumstances surrounding the accident have remained the subject of discussion. Stéphanie escaped with injuries, but Grace suffered devastating trauma and died the following day. Her death prompted mourning far beyond the tiny principality she had made her home, closing an extraordinary life that had taken her from Philadelphia to Broadway, from Hollywood stardom and an Academy Award to becoming one of the world's most recognizable princesses.
On September 14, 1994, Major League Baseball officially canceled the remainder of its season, including the postseason and World Series, after a players' strike that had begun on August 12 showed no sign of ending. It was an extraordinary moment for America's pastime: for the first time since 1904, there would be no World Series, and for the first time since the championship series began in 1903, its cancellation resulted from a labor dispute. At the center of the conflict were long-running disagreements between team owners and the Major League Baseball Players Association over salaries, revenue sharing, free agency and the owners' desire for a salary cap. Acting commissioner Bud Selig finally called off the remainder of the season with hundreds of regular-season games already lost.
The cancellation was particularly painful because the 1994 season had been producing some remarkable baseball. The Montreal Expos owned the best record in the majors at 74–40 and appeared capable of making the deepest postseason run in franchise history, while the New York Yankees led the American League East at 70–43. Individual achievements disappeared with the schedule as well. San Francisco's Matt Williams had already hit 43 home runs and Seattle's Ken Griffey Jr. had 40, giving both a chance to challenge Roger Maris' then-record of 61 in a season. Perhaps the most tantalizing unfinished story belonged to San Diego Padres great Tony Gwynn, who was batting .394 when play stopped and pursuing something no major leaguer had accomplished since Ted Williams hit .406 in 1941.
The dispute continued through the winter and into the following spring, with replacement players even appearing during 1995 spring training before a federal court injunction helped bring the strike to an end on April 2. Regular major-league players returned and the 1995 season eventually began, but the damage was considerable. Attendance suffered, fans expressed anger at both players and owners, and many people within baseball later described the canceled World Series as a lasting scar on the sport. There was no champion, no postseason heroics and no opportunity to discover whether Montreal could complete its remarkable season, whether Gwynn could reach .400, or whether Williams or Griffey could catch Maris. The 1994 season simply stopped—and baseball was left forever wondering how one of its most promising years might have ended.