Laura Dekker

Laura Dekker

The Dutch government took her away from her parents, confiscated her boat, and sent psychologists to prove she was unfit — all because a thirteen-year-old girl said she was going to sail around the world alone.

Laura Dekker didn’t dream of sailing around the world the way most children dream. She didn’t see it in a movie and think it seemed exciting. She didn’t read about it in a book and decide it sounded romantic. She knew it in her bones — the way some people know their own name.

She was born knowing, because she was born at sea.

In 1995, in the harbor town of Whangarei, New Zealand, Laura entered the world aboard her parents’ sailboat, midway through their seven-year voyage around the globe. The ocean was the first thing she knew. The rhythm of waves was her lullaby. The creak of rigging and the snap of canvas were the sounds of home.

For the first five years of her life, she lived on the water. When the family returned to the Netherlands, Laura’s parents divorced. She was six. She chose to live with her father, who had begun building a seventy-foot Norwegian fishing cutter by hand at a shipyard. They lived in a caravan next to the hull. Later, they moved aboard.

For her sixth birthday, Laura received an Optimist dinghy — a tiny single-sail boat that most children use to learn the basics in calm harbors on sunny days. Laura took hers out in storms, in hail, in winds that sent other children’s parents running for shore. She sailed nearly every day, regardless of weather. She was fearless.

For her eighth birthday, she received a book — Tania Aebi’s memoir about sailing solo around the world. She read it and felt something click inside her. That was it. That was what she was going to do.

By ten, Laura had convinced a friend of her father to let her restore and use his old Hurley 700 — a proper seven-meter seaworthy sailboat. That summer, she sailed it solo around Holland and the Wadden Islands for seven weeks. She was ten years old.

By thirteen, she was preparing in earnest. She sailed the Hurley solo from the Netherlands to England — a genuine open-water crossing. When she arrived, a friend’s mother reported her to the British authorities, who contacted the Dutch police. Her father was ordered to fly to England and sail back with her.

That was the beginning of a nightmare that Laura never saw coming.

When word reached the Dutch media that a thirteen-year-old was planning to sail alone around the world, the reaction was explosive. Child welfare authorities intervened. A family court placed Laura under shared custody with the Council for Child Care, effectively removing her parents’ authority over her. The police confiscated her boat. Psychologists were brought in to evaluate her mental state.

For a time, Laura was forced to live with foster parents. She wasn’t allowed to go home.

“They actually took the responsibility of my parents over me,” Laura said years later. “There was a time where I had to live with foster parents. So I wasn’t allowed to be at home. For me, it wasn’t a fight of whether I could sail or not. This was so much more than that.”

Eight separate court cases were filed over the next ten months. Judges who, as Laura pointed out, “had no idea about boats or sailing” were asked to decide whether she was capable. The Council for Child Protection argued that a thirteen-year-old’s brain was not mature enough for two years alone at sea. The entire country debated her case. International media descended.

Through it all, Laura held on. She kept preparing. She upgraded to a larger boat — a twelve-meter ketch that would also be named Guppy — and worked with her father for months to restore and equip it. She obtained a first aid diploma. She studied sleep management techniques. She learned how to stitch her own wounds. She learned how to put out fires aboard a vessel alone.

On July 27, 2010, the court lifted the guardianship order. The presiding judge said: “With this decision, the responsibility for Laura lies with her parents. It is up to them to decide whether Laura can set off on her sail trip.”

Her parents said yes.

On August 21, 2010, fourteen-year-old Laura Dekker sailed out of Gibraltar alone aboard Guppy, heading south into the Atlantic.

What followed were 518 days that forged a child into something more.

She crossed the Atlantic. She navigated the Caribbean, transited the Panama Canal, and entered the Pacific — the largest, loneliest body of water on earth. She sailed through French Polynesia, where she was deeply moved by people who lived in harmony with nature. She threaded through the dangerous Torres Strait, navigating coral reefs and shipping lanes. She rounded the Cape of Good Hope off the South African coast in sixty-five-knot winds that could tear a sail apart or capsize a vessel.

When things broke, she fixed them herself. When sails ripped, she climbed up and replaced them in darkness. When storms raged, she held her course. When calms settled for days or weeks, she waited.

There were moments of crushing loneliness — weeks without seeing another human face. And there were moments of transcendent beauty. Sunrises that turned the entire sky into a canvas of colors she had never known existed. Dolphins that swam alongside Guppy for hours, as if escorting her. Nights when the stars were so thick and bright they seemed to swallow the darkness whole.

On January 21, 2012, Laura Dekker sailed Guppy into Simpson Bay, Sint Maarten. She was sixteen years and 123 days old. She had covered over 27,000 nautical miles. She had crossed every ocean. She had become the youngest person to sail solo around the world.

She didn’t cry at the finish. She didn’t give grand speeches. In later interviews, she said the moment felt strange — because the journey hadn’t been about the record. It had been about the freedom she’d been fighting for since she was thirteen years old.

“For me, that trip was really the beginning of my life,” Laura said years later. “Everything I have now has everything to do with that trip.”

After the voyage, Laura made a decision that shocked many: she renounced her Dutch citizenship. The government that had tried to take her from her parents, confiscated her boat, and sent her to foster care did not feel like home. New Zealand — the country where she was born, at sea, during her parents’ own circumnavigation — did. She became a New Zealand citizen.

She went on to become the youngest person to obtain a Yachtmaster Ocean Certificate. She wrote a book, One Girl, One Dream, published in four languages. She appeared on Dutch reality shows and won an expedition competition in extreme Arctic conditions. And she founded the Laura Dekker World Sailing Foundation — an organization dedicated to giving young people the chance to learn what the ocean taught her.

When asked what she would do if her own children came to her with an impossible dream, Laura’s answer was simple. She wouldn’t say it was unrealistic. She wouldn’t say it was too dangerous. She would say: “Okay, that’s great. What are the steps to achieve that? And can we do that together?”

Because Laura Dekker knows something that courts, psychologists, and child welfare authorities could not measure with any test. She knows that the people who change the world are never the ones who wait for permission.

They’re the ones who set sail anyway.

Nora Keegan Listened and Looked

Nora Keegan

Nora Keegan was not trying to change public health policy. She was just paying attention.

In elementary school in Calgary, she noticed something adults kept dismissing. Children rushing out of public restrooms. Hands clamped over their ears. Faces tense. Complaints whispered between friends. It hurts my ears.

She felt it too. After using hand dryers, her ears rang. The sound lingered. Adults brushed it off. They are just loud. That is what machines do.

But Nora kept wondering why children reacted so strongly. And more importantly, why no one was measuring it.

In fifth grade, she decided to find out.

With the help of her parents, both physicians, she turned curiosity into research. She borrowed professional sound equipment. She designed an experiment. And then she went where the problem lived.

Public bathrooms.

Over two years, she visited forty four restrooms across Alberta. Libraries. Restaurants. Schools. She took eight hundred and eighty measurements. She measured at adult height. Then she crouched to measure at child height. She tested distance. Position. Airflow. Again and again.

What she found was impossible to ignore.

Many high speed hand dryers exceeded one hundred decibels at a child’s ear level. Some reached levels comparable to emergency sirens. Levels that medical authorities already prohibit in children’s toys because of the risk of hearing damage.

Children were not imagining the pain. They were standing closer to the source. Their ears were smaller. And the sound hitting them was stronger than what adults experienced.

Manufacturers claimed their machines were safe. Nora’s data showed real world conditions told a different story.

And she did not stop there.

Still in middle school, she began designing a noise reduction filter. A simple modification that lowered sound output by more than ten decibels. Proof that the problem was not inevitable.

Then she did something most adults never do. She wrote a scientific paper.

Her first submission was rejected. So she revised. She corrected. She tried again.

In June 2019, Paediatrics and Child Health published her study. Its title was direct and impossible to dismiss. Children who say hand dryers hurt my ears are correct.

She was thirteen years old.

Health professionals paid attention. Researchers cited her work. Parents shared it. Manufacturers requested meetings. All because a child trusted her own experience enough to test it.

Nora did not raise her voice. She measured. She documented. She proved.

And in doing so, she reminded the world of something simple and easily forgotten.

Sometimes the smallest voices are describing the biggest problems. You just have to listen.

Quote of the Day

“Property may be destroyed and money may lose its purchasing power; but, character, health, knowledge and good judgment will always be in demand under all conditions.”
Roger Babson – Educator (1875 – 1967)

It’s not if, it’s when: why experts say every family needs a 72-hour disaster survival plan

Emergency Preparedness Checklist

  • Prepare before disaster strikes with essential supplies and a clear plan.
  • Build a 72-hour disaster kit with water, food, and critical safety items.
  • Create and practice a family communication and evacuation plan regularly.
  • Include your vehicle in preparedness with a kit, and keep the fuel tank full.
  • Maintain readiness through ongoing reviews, drills, and safe generator use.

When disaster strikes your community, will your family be ready? Emergency managers across the nation are sounding the alarm that preparedness is no longer optional but a fundamental responsibility for every household.

“It’s not a question of if; it’s a question of when,” says Dale White, an emergency preparedness manager. The time to prepare is now, before the earthquake trembles, the floodwaters rise, or the wildfire smoke darkens the sky.

The cornerstone of readiness is a disaster supplies kit that enables your family to be self-sufficient for at least 72 hours. Authorities emphasize that help may not arrive immediately, and you might need to shelter in place. White suggests building your kit gradually. “Start by picking up an extra nonperishable food item or a water bottle on your weekly grocery trip,” he advises. “Before you know it, you’re going to have a decent amount of food and water.”

Your kit must include one gallon of water per person per day for at least three days, with clear plastic bottles recommended for longer shelf life. Add a three-day supply of nonperishable food and a manual can opener. Essential items include a first aid kit, prescription medications, a battery-powered or hand-crank radio, flashlights, and extra batteries. Do not forget a wrench to turn off utilities, plastic sheeting, a whistle, emergency blankets, a change of clothing with sturdy shoes, personal care items, copies of important documents, and cash.

Creating your family plan

A well-practiced plan is what transforms a collection of supplies into a lifeline. “Preparing your family makes everybody a lot calmer,” White notes. Your plan must identify two meeting places: one right outside your home for emergencies like fire, and another outside your neighborhood in case you cannot return home.

Every family should designate an out-of-town contact person. After a disaster, family members can call this relative or friend to relay information, as long-distance calls often go through when local lines are overwhelmed. Complete a family communication plan with all contact information and ensure every member carries a copy.

Practice is non-negotiable. Hold earthquake drills and practice “Drop, Cover, Hold.” Conduct fire drills, ensuring everyone knows two exits from each room. Critically, all adults should know how to shut off your home’s electricity, gas, and water, with the necessary tools kept nearby. Authorities caution that if you turn off gas, only a qualified professional can turn it back on, which could take weeks.

Don’t forget your vehicle

Your car is a key part of your strategy. “Chances are if you’re not at home, your car is going to be nearby,” White observes, or you may need to evacuate quickly. Keep your vehicle’s fuel tank above half full, as stations may be closed during emergencies. Maintain a smaller version of your disaster kit in the car, alongside a safety kit with jumper cables, flares, basic tools, and a paper map.

Special considerations are vital. If you have pets, include food, water, and carriers in your kit. For those with medical conditions or disabilities, plan for necessary equipment and medications. Remember, most public shelters do not accept pets for health reasons, so identify pet-friendly hotels or boarding facilities in advance.

The environmental aftermath of a disaster presents hidden dangers. Floodwater may contain raw sewage or hazardous chemicals. After flooding, mold growth becomes a serious health threat within 24 to 48 hours on wet materials. Standing water also becomes a breeding ground for mosquitoes. Proper cleanup is essential.

Perhaps the most dangerous post-disaster mistake is improper generator use. Officials alert that generator exhaust is toxic. “Always put generators outside well away from doors, windows, and vents,” warns the EPA. “Never use a generator inside homes, garages, crawl spaces, sheds, or similar areas.” Carbon monoxide poisoning is a silent, deadly killer.

True preparedness is not a single action but a maintained lifestyle. Review your plan every six months. Check and rotate your food and water supplies. Test smoke alarms monthly and replace batteries yearly. Conduct family drills. This ongoing commitment transforms fear into confidence.

In our modern world, we have sealed ourselves in tightly constructed homes, often disconnected from the natural rhythms that once guided human resilience. Preparing for disaster reconnects us with a fundamental truth: self-reliance is the first and most important response. Taking these steps today ensures that when the unexpected arrives, your family will not be victims waiting for help, but a capable team ready to respond.

https://nexusnewsfeed.com/article/home-family-pets/it-s-not-if-it-s-when-why-experts-say-every-family-needs-a-72-hour-disaster-survival-plan/

Lainey Wilson

Lainey Wilson

American Idol rejected her 7 times. Never made it past the first round. She showered with a water hose in a flooded camper for three years. Ten years later, she became the first woman since Taylor Swift to win CMA Entertainer of the Year.

A farm girl from a 250-person town became country music’s biggest star by being “too country for country.”

Lainey Wilson was 19 years old.

Standing in line at an American Idol audition, waiting for hours with thousands of other hopefuls, convinced this was her moment.

It wasn’t.

She didn’t make it past the first round.

So she tried again. And again. And again. Seven times total. Seven rejections. Never once got to sing for the celebrity judges.

The Voice rejected her too.

Nobody wanted her.

Everyone in Nashville said the same thing.

“Too country for country.”

“Your twang is too thick.”

“Your sound doesn’t fit the market.”

“Go back to Louisiana.”

She didn’t listen.

Here’s what Lainey knew that everyone else missed… pop-infused country dominated the radio. But real country music wasn’t dead. The audience was still out there. Someone just had to give them something authentic.

So she bought a 20-foot Flagstaff camper trailer for $2,000. Hooked it up to her truck. Drove from Baskin, Louisiana to Nashville, Tennessee.

Population of her hometown: 250 people. Her father was a farmer. Her mother was a schoolteacher. She’d been writing songs since she was 9 years old.

She parked that camper in a recording studio parking lot. A man named Jerry Cupit owned the studio. He’d known her grandfather. Let her borrow electricity, water, and Wi-Fi to get by.

That camper became her home for the next three years.

The winters were brutal.

She slept in three or four jackets. Three pairs of socks. Still froze at night when the furnace couldn’t keep up.

Then her propane tank ran out. Then her shower head broke. Then the floor started rotting because the whole thing flooded.

She had to shower with a water hose.

Cold water. Ankle-deep in standing water. In a parking lot. In Nashville. For years.

“This is some shit,” she remembers thinking. “But whatever.”

She walked up and down Music Row. Handed out CDs and demos to anyone who would take one. Got the same response over and over.

Door after door. Rejection after rejection.

No publishing deal. No record deal. No interest.

For seven years.

She took every gig she could find. Performed Hannah Montana at kids’ parties during the day. Played her own songs at open mics at night.

People called her “the camper trailer girl.” Not as a compliment.

But she wasn’t there to be comfortable. She was there to be heard.

In 2014, everything collapsed at once.

Her mentor Jerry Cupit died. He was from Baskin, like her. Produced her first recordings. Believed in her when nobody else did. Let her park in his studio lot.

Gone.

Then she found out her boyfriend had been cheating. Got another woman pregnant.

“I learned to embrace the heartbreak,” she said.

She wrote hundreds of songs. Three hundred at least. Poured every broken piece into notebooks and recording sessions.

She released an album in 2014. Then another in 2016. Neither broke through. The industry kept telling her she wasn’t pop enough for modern country.

She signed a publishing deal in 2018. Then a record deal with BBR Music Group.

Still nothing happened. Not the way she’d dreamed.

Then Taylor Sheridan heard her music.

The creator of Yellowstone, the most-watched show on cable television, wanted her songs for the series.

In 2019, her music started appearing in episodes. Millions of people heard Lainey Wilson for the first time.

Sheridan called her in 2022. Said he wanted to create a role specifically for her.

“I want you on the show.”

She was terrified. She’d never acted before.

“I love doing things that are scary,” she said. “I love stepping outside my comfort zone.”

She became Abby on Yellowstone. A country singer. Not far from the truth.

But right when everything was finally working, her father got sick.

July 2022. Brian Wilson was hospitalized with a fungal infection that nearly killed him. Nine surgeries in a month. Lost his left eye. Parts of his face had to be removed. Had a stroke on top of it all.

She wanted to quit the show. Go home. Take care of him.

Her dad said no. Told her to keep going. To finish what she started.

So she did.

By September 2021, ten years and one day after she arrived in Nashville, her single “Things a Man Oughta Know” hit number one on the Country Airplay chart.

Ten years and one day. Exactly like they said.

But Lainey wasn’t done.

“Heart Like a Truck” went to number two. Then “Watermelon Moonshine.” Then “Wait in the Truck” with HARDY went double platinum.

In November 2023, she was nominated for five CMA Awards.

She won five. Including the big one.

Entertainer of the Year.

The first woman to win it since Taylor Swift in 2011.

“This is all I’ve ever wanted to do,” she said through tears at the podium. “It’s the only thing I know how to do. It finally feels like country music is starting to love me back.”

In February 2024, she won her first Grammy. Best Country Album for Bell Bottom Country.

In June 2024, she was inducted into the Grand Ole Opry. Her favorite moment so far.

In May 2024, she opened Bell Bottoms Up. A three-story bar, Cajun restaurant, and music venue in downtown Nashville. Right where Florida Georgia Line’s old bar used to be.

In November 2025, she won three more CMA Awards. Entertainer of the Year again. Album of the Year for Whirlwind. Female Vocalist of the Year for the fourth time.

Today, Lainey Wilson has 9 CMA Awards, 16 ACM Awards, a Grammy, and a role on the highest-rated show on cable television.

She’s engaged to former NFL quarterback Duck Hodges.

She played 102 shows in 2024. More stages than the number of people in her hometown.

All because a 19-year-old farm girl from a 250-person Louisiana town refused to stop auditioning after seven American Idol rejections.

She turned a flooded camper trailer into fuel for her fire.

She turned “too country for country” into the most authentic voice in Nashville.

She proved that the people who rejected you don’t get to write the end of your story.

What dream are you abandoning because you’ve been rejected seven times?

What version of “too different” are you letting define you instead of drive you?

What are you giving up on in year three when the breakthrough was waiting in year ten?

Lainey Wilson got told no by American Idol seven times. Never made it past the first round.

She lived in a camper with a rotting floor for three years. Slept in four jackets. Showered with a water hose.

Everyone in Nashville said she didn’t fit the market. Too twangy. Too traditional. Too country.

She walked Music Row handing out CDs for a decade. Got rejected at every door.

Then she hit number one. Won the Grammy. Won Entertainer of the Year twice.

Because she understood something most people don’t.

Ten years of rejection isn’t a sign you’re in the wrong game. It’s proof you’re willing to outlast everyone who quit in year three.

Your “too different” isn’t the reason you’re failing. It’s the reason you’ll eventually be the only option.

The people who rejected you don’t get to decide if you were right. The ones who find you ten years later do.

Stop waiting for permission from people who’ve already said no.

Start thinking like Lainey Wilson.

Show up when it’s uncomfortable. Keep going when it’s unfair. Outlast the timeline you thought you had.

And never let anyone convince you that the thing that makes you different is the thing that disqualifies you.

Sometimes the longest journeys produce the biggest breakthroughs.

Because when everyone else quits in year three, the person still standing in year ten doesn’t have any competition left.

Don’t quit.

Quote of the Day

“If you realized how powerful your thoughts are, you would never think a negative thought.”
Peace Pilgrim – Activist (1908 – 1981)

The Highest Level of Statesmanship

With all that is going on it pays to remind ourselves of the words of Lord Acton:

“The idea that the object of constitutions is not to confirm the predominance of any interest, but to prevent it; to preserve with equal care the independence of labour and the security of property; to make the rich safe against envy, and the poor against oppression, marks the highest level attained by the statesmanship of Greece.” – Lord Acton