Ailana’s Journal—2026-03-18 (Patreon)

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GOOD MORNING

I hope everyone had a great night. Thanks to the great hospitality of Jason’s mom and dad, we all did.

If you’ve lost track of the trip, we just reached Gulfport, Mississippi. (Jason’s parents live here.) We’ll be here for all of Wednesday and Thursday, learning more about the area and sharing it with you.

Gulfport began as a port town in the late 1800s, built around the railroad and the Gulf. It grew quickly because it had a purpose: moving goods, connecting people, and opening Mississippi to the world. You can still feel that in the bones of the place.

Through the 20th century, it shifted and rebuilt more than once—storms, economic changes, and the evolving coastline all left their mark. But instead of losing itself, Gulfport adapted. Shipyards, seafood—especially shrimping—and trade kept it working, while tourism slowly found its way in.

Now it sits in this interesting balance.

It’s still one of Mississippi’s most important industrial and port hubs—but at the same time, it’s become a gateway for beach days and coastal exploration. Not flashy like some destinations… just steady, real, and a little underrated.

Today, Dave and Marsha—Jason’s parents—are going to take Jason and me around to see some of the lesser-known places that give Gulfport its heart. Meanwhile, Josh and Geoni will be visiting the Maritime & Seafood Industry Museum in nearby Biloxi. They are also going to check out the Walter Anderson Museum of Art, which is just a little further away.

In the meantime, Marsha came by a little while ago to say omelets would be available soon, so I need to get going! I’ll check in later, of course!

WHO KNEW?

The morning didn’t come off as expected. After the omelets, we got into a long discussion about the wedding. I can’t recall if it’s ever been mentioned, but of course, Jason’s dad will perform the service.

A few questions about our wishes for the wedding led to a long romp through our high school years.

At one point Marsha smiled contentedly. “I remember Jason coming home after the New Year’s Eve party when you turned 16. He actually told me about the good luck kiss, and I said, ‘Well, you never know where luck will take you.’ Then Homecoming your Junior year… I always loved when you’d come over and visit.”

Conversations like that went on until it was time for lunch. They brought us to a parking lot with two Gulfport treasures that most tourists will overlook.

How could you come here and miss out on the World’s Largest Rocking Chair? I didn’t expect a rocking chair to make me stop the car—but here we are.

The World’s Largest Rocking Chair is exactly what it sounds like—oversized, a little random, and somehow kind of perfect for a roadside pause. It’s one of those places that doesn’t try to impress you—it just makes you smile.

Across the gravel parking lot sits Catfish Charlie. It’s a longtime Gulf Coast spot known for doing one thing really well—Southern seafood. Fried catfish is the staple here, along with shrimp, hushpuppies, and all the classic sides. It’s casual, counter-service, and built around consistency more than presentation.

Dave said we won’t be disappointed. I have a feeling he’s right!

Places like these remind you that not everything has to be serious or planned. That’s about all for now… I’ll be back later to wrap up the day.

WE CAN DO IT by Clay Everett

Sasha says that Ailana is not going to let us get away much longer without explaining the plan for SwimFit. So, she, Jasmine, Micah, and I came ashore for lunch and figured now’s a good time to explain things.

Sasha and I envisioned SwimFit filling a place in the water-sportswear market for comfortable, functional, and attractive apparel. We wanted to do it differently.

Foremost, we wanted production to be exclusively in factories that pay workers a living wage in a safe environment. This seems so fundamental to us, we were surprised by the challenges we faced.

Next, we wanted sustainable, ethical sourcing. That means sourcing materials in a way that protects the future of the world’s ecosystems.

Lastly, we wanted competitive pricing. We wanted to come in around the price of quality swimwear—not high-end specialty wear or designer boutique fashions.

It took a long time, but we have a plan.

SwimFit—which is separate from AGI Creative Group—is going to form a subsidiary company called Southeast Texas Apparel. SwimFit will own 51% of it. The workers will own 49%. To the fullest extent possible, SwimFit will be mostly hands-off in day-to-day operations, allowing the worker-owners to decide how the factory works.

We’ll start with ten workers. SwimFit will own the building and the equipment. STA will (technically) lease the building. I’ll spare you the numbers, but you can think of it like this. STA nets a set amount from each suit it produces after covering its costs, and the worker-owners decide how to use that income.

Lots of details that won’t fit here…

Sasha, Jasmine, and I handle paperwork, payroll, insurance… etc.

Micah works for SwimFit as liaison to the factory, passing product orders to the workers and facilitating production. Way more to say on that!

In the end, workers have solid benefits and make about what teachers, nurses, and supervisors pull in around here.

This is what we wanted—a much smaller scale, but much more meaningful outcomes.

GOOD NIGHT

I am pretty sure I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating.

Wherever you go, there are stories. In nature it might be how each part of an ecosystem connects to countless other parts.

If you go to where people are, the story possibilities are virtually endless. Today, Jason and I encountered a few of those stories.

The idea that I’m sure I’ve shared before is this…

If you park your car and start walking, every person you meet and every place you see has a story. I would claim that you could walk into any store in any strip mall in any town and start creating stories…

The clerk who’s about to graduate high school, saving for dorm furnishings…

The retired Army sergeant who did his 26 and is now doing maintenance work just to fill the hours a few days a week…

Across the parking lot stands a thrift store, itself a hardware store from ages past that was repurposed like the items it now sells…

That woman and her kids talking about a trip to the mountains…

Those two teens looking at fountain pens…

The young couple holding hands, looking at everything, laughing, but not buying anything…

The immigrant at the coffee shop watching TikToks…

The single road cone sitting on a hole dug in the flower bed beside the sidewalk…

At every turn, there are stories to be told. I see these things and ask what those stories might be.

My point is that a place like Gulfport is so much more than the “Things To Do” list on Google Maps. At its heart, there are people and places, living and breathing, and every one of them has some sort of story.

May you slow down and see things that make you ask what the stories behind them are. May your mind be open to the what-ifs and whys that are forever nearby.

Good night.

Be your best you!

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AFTER GOOD NIGHT

I’m still on the patio at the Kellers’ home in Gulfport. A few logs have gone into the chiminea, and a mug of cocoa has been finished.

Jason and his dad went to the garage a little while ago. Something about a new fishing reel for beach fishing…

Marsha and I are sitting here enjoying the end of the day.

“I know,” she said a moment ago. “You and Jason sort of had a season apart. Both of you were traveling for work and COVID… But he talked to his dad all those years. Me too, of course… As the years passed, he held onto the happiness you two had growing up and in college. He told Dave that no one he ever met gave him a glimmer of hope that he’d have anything like that.”

“He’s said that to me, too,” I replied.

“He should have called you once he unpacked his bags when he moved to Memphis. It worked out, but I feel like things were really on thin ice.”

“I should have called him, too.”

We talked on, both agreeing that something great—something Jason and I believe was meant to be—was left hanging by a thread for years. We’re both happy it held up long enough for us to pick things back up.

The conversation lasted longer than it took to look at a fishing reel. When the men returned, I had a passing thought.

I wondered what it would have been like if my mother had been like Marsha. How would that have changed me?

Of course, there’s no way to answer that. Still… I wonder.

Good night.

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