One Snowy Day in Washington, D.C.

I could not let the passing of Jimmy Carter go by without weighing in. Most of you know I have a special fondness for the 39th president because of my chance meeting with him more than four decades ago. But, now I’m reading “A Full Life” – which he wrote at ninety – and finding even more reason to respect him.

Most of us know Carter as a farmer, but did you know during his time in the Navy, he was hand chosen to help design and build the original nuclear power plant? On a submarine, no less! I was impressed with all aspects of his life, like at twelve years old when he was finally “permitted” to break land in the field using a plow and mules, which was “the most boring and challenging duty.” By his account, his mind was “relatively unfocused,” so he would compute how many miles he would have to walk before completing the task (between 22 and 25). He said of this time that he “enjoyed a sense of accomplishment and self-satisfaction, knowing that (he) had done all that was humanly possible.”

Born in 1924 in the south, Race, of course, played a part in Carter’s life. He credits his mother, Lillian, for “never observing the principle of white supremacy,” which helped shape his commitment to the protection of human rights. This commitment, along with “keeping the peace” were Carter’s primary goals for his administration – admirable goals for an admirable man.

Carter’s gentle demeanor and down-to-earth persona were evident when I was fortunate enough to have that encounter with him one snowy day in Washington, D.C.

The story goes that when I worked for the Secret Service, my office was in the Old Executive Office Building, which is connected to the White House. On days when it was snowing or raining, I would cut through the White House as I made my way from my bus stop to work.

I was so dumbfounded one morning to see the president coming toward me down that long hallway, that in my twenty-year-old naiveté, I said, “What are you doing here?”

He had the biggest grin on his face as he stopped and shook my hand saying, “I live here. What are you doing here?”

I have to wonder if he relayed that story to anyone afterwards laughing at the silly young girl in the hallway. I know that in my office of wise cracking secret service agents, I didn’t soon live it down.

I must say if I am to have only one significant VIP encounter in my lifetime, I can’t think of a nobler person than Jimmy Carter with whom to have it.