From the Editors Desk: Remembering Jimmy Carter
Faced with leaving the White House after a single term, former President Jimmy Carter found himself without any real plans for the future. He knew he would return to his hometown of Plains, Georgia and, in his own words, “…take up once more the only title in our democracy superior to that of president — the title of citizen.”
That could have meant a lot of things – both simple and grand. Being a citizen, after all, is what you make of it. For Carter, it meant leading a life that was both grand and simple.
After leaving Washington D.C. in 1981, Carter did indeed return to Plains. It was where he returned to his woodshop, turning out beautifully crafted furniture.
A simple life.
It was where he devised the idea of the Carter Center, an institution devoted to peace and public health.
A grand life.
It was where, on Sunday mornings, he would make his way to the church he had attended since boyhood and teach Sunday School classes.
A simple life.
It was where he discovered Habitat for Humanity, then a small non-profit located in nearby Americus, Georgia and helped elevate it to international status.
A grand life.
In the nearly 45 years since Jimmy Carter vacated the Presidency until his death at 100-years-old on December 29 – in Plains – he lived a life based on what he thought it could, and should, mean to be a citizen. His goal was to be a good neighbor on the largest scale and an activist aligned with beliefs and observations gleaned from his own rural upbringing. His guiding principle, both grand and simple, seemed to be built on a foundation of doing what you believe is right and working to leave your community – be it global or Plains, Georgia – a better place than you found it. Personal politics didn’t matter, nor did successes or failures. It was the intent, and working toward that intent, that motivated Carter. Regardless of how history records his political career, his legacy of public service, noble intentions, and a well-defined moral compass ensure he will be well-remembered in the role that meant most to him – citizen.
I was fortunate, in my life, to have had a couple of opportunities to interact with Carter. The first time, not long after my return to Augusta, was interview arranged in conjunction with the publication his outstanding memoir “An Hour Before Daylight.” What I remember with particular clarity was his idea that place – in his case Plains – affects people, playing a significant role in who we become. He was, according to his beliefs, who he was because of Plains, not despite it.
My second interaction with Carter was at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta. We were both attending a preview of the museum’s ‘The First Emperor: China’s Terracotta Army’ exhibition in 2008. There, I was struck by his theory that things that universally fascinate – such as art and history – remind people of all beliefs and leanings that as disparate as we may seem, we still share commonalities as well. That one has been a bit of a guiding light for me.
A few years ago, at my visiting mother’s urging, my family made a Thanksgiving pilgrimage to Plains. We visited President Carter’s boyhood home, a small farm and house located just outside of town. It was quiet the day we were there, the Thanksgiving holiday having driven most visitors toward hearth and home, and I think the ranger on duty was happy to have some company. As we wandered from room to room, she told us about President Carter’s continuing relationship with the house, now a part of the Nation Park Service. She said on occasional weekends Carter would post himself in a comfortable chair in the small living room and, when guests turned the corner, greet them with a ‘Hello. Welcome to my home.’ I thought it was a great gag and the sort of surprise only he could pull off. I also found it deeply meaningful. He could have been talking about the house. He could have been talking about Plains. He could have been talking about the United States or anywhere in the world where his efforts had made a difference.
Anywhere he had the opportunity to demonstrate what it meant to be a citizen.