After I stood on the life-sized statue of FDR at Dowdell’s Knob; a unique statue that depicted his leg braces; we headed back to the car for our 75-mile journey to “Jimmy Carter Country” – Plains, Georgia. It was 2:00pm on Saturday July 13, 2019 when we rolled into the small town that was thrown into the national spotlight in 1976 when Governor Carter was elected 39th President of the United States. Plains, which consisted of less than one-square mile of area, was where Carter was born on October 1, 1924. Jimmy and his wife, Rosalynn, have lived in Plains since leaving the White House in 1981 and they still reside in the same modest ranch-style home the future President had built in 1961. Twice a month, the former President conducts a Sunday school class at his church and his lecture is open to the public; which was the main reason for the timing of our visit. Several months before we embarked on the trip, Tom secured Saturday night reservations for the “Presidential Suite” at the Plains Historic Inn & Antiques. He had hoped that we’d be fortunate enough to catch Carter’s class the following morning. But when Jimmy Carter’s Sunday school schedule for July came out just three weeks before we left home, my photographer and his wife were saddened to learn that luck wasn’t on our side. The President was scheduled to lecture on the two Sunday’s that surrounded our visit; but not on July 14th. It appeared that we would miss meeting the Carters. Or would we? When Tom reconfirmed our stay over the phone just prior to departure, the desk clerk at the inn said that we would likely be able to still meet the President and his wife. As a matter of fact, she said that it might be a blessing in disguise because there are usually between 400 and 500 visitors lined up at 4:30am to hear Carter speak nearly six hours later. That’s a lot of people – considering the population of Plains was only about 720. On the Sundays that Jimmy doesn’t teach his class, there’s no waiting to get inside; as only about 50 people usually attend the service. Either way, she said, we will be able to meet the Carters – if they’re in town, that is.
Although our visit to Plains was centered on meeting Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter, there was a laundry list of other Carter sites to see during our time there. Once we registered and got the key to our room, the three of us set out on what my photographer called “A treasure trove of Jimmy Carter sites”. There were over a dozen historical Carter sites to see – but the ones that had a definite time limit were the first on our list.
We kicked off our tour at the Visitor Center and Museum, which was originally Plains High School when it was built in 1921. Students from Plains were educated from the first through eleventh grades there (Georgia didn’t add a 12th grade until the 1950s) and Jimmy and Rosalynn received all their public schooling in that building. As a matter of fact, Jimmy graduated from Plains High School in 1941; while Rosalynn Smith was valedictorian in 1944. When the three of us walked through the front doors, the first thing we saw was a replica of the Resolute Desk; and within a minute or two, I found myself standing on the desk for some photos. There wasn’t a lot of historic artifacts to see in the school/museum, but I did find one of the classrooms interesting. My photographer placed me on an old 1937-era desk that was situated in Miss Julia Coleman’s 7th grade English class. Coleman inspired her students to “study hard, one of you could become President of the United States.” There was no way she could have known that her prophecy would someday come true. Not only did one of her students become the 39th President of the United States, he also mentioned her in his inaugural address: “As my high school teacher, Miss Julia Coleman, used to say: ‘We must adjust to changing times and still hold to unchanging principles.’” Sadly, Julia Coleman died in 1973 and never lived to see her student reach the White House.
Shortly after 3:00pm, Tom wanted to visit Jimmy Carter’s Boyhood Farm because he knew it closed at five o’clock. The historic farmhouse wasn’t in Plains; it was located roughly three miles West near the small community of Archery, Georgia. As soon as Vicki parked our Highlander in the parking lot, I was carried along a cement walkway that took us past some farm animals and up to the house. On the day when the family moved into the house in 1928, Earl Carter forgot his house key. Little four-year old Jimmy saved the day when he crawled through a window and unlocked the front door. Earl never locked the door again. As I posed for photos near the exterior of the house where Jimmy had lived until he left for college, it seemed weird that the yard was void of grass. Only sand and dirt surrounded the building; which was a rural technique used to keep insects and snakes out of the house.
When Tom carried me inside the Carter farmhouse, we went room to room where I posed for more images. There weren’t any tour guides inside the house during our visit, but that was likely due to nothing being authentic. There wasn’t anything in the house that belonged to the Carters except the walls and floors. Everything inside the home was a period piece that replicated the family’s life on the farm in the late 1930s. I was thrilled to visit Jimmy Carter’s bedroom, even though the bed was never used by him. I had to laugh to myself when I saw a pair of stiff blue jean that leaned against the wall. Those jeans represented the same ones that little Jimmy wore when he “mopped cotton” – a chore where Carter dipped a mop into a bucket filled with arsenic, molasses, and water; he then applied the goop to the buds of the cotton plants to kill boll weevils. The syrupy mess attracted flies and stiffened his jeans. From the house, Tom carried me a short distance along a walkway to the Carter’s store where they sold goods to farm workers and neighbors. When he wasn’t doing his regular chores, young Jimmy stocked the store’s shelves and he ran the cash register.
During our slow walk through the farmyard back to the car, it gave me time to reflect on what Jimmy Carter once said about his life growing up on that farm: “The early years of my life on the farm were full and enjoyable, isolated but not lonely. We always had enough to eat, no economic hardship, but no money to waste. We felt close to nature, close to members of our family, and close to God.”
The next site on our agenda was Jimmy Carter’s birthplace, which was located just North of “downtown” Plains. During our ride, however, we stopped at two other spots of interest that we discovered were along our route to the birthplace. First, Vicki pulled the Highlander to the curb where Church Street met Woodland Drive. When I was removed from the camera case, all I saw was a small white guard shack and a steel barricade that blocked Woodland Drive. As it turned out, Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter’s two-bedroom ranch style home was located a short distance down Woodland from the barricade. Jimmy built their house in 1961 and today it’s valued at $167,000 – which is less than the armored Secret Service vehicles that are usually parked nearby. I would’ve loved to have posed in front of the house; but even though my photographer takes me places that pushes the limits a bit, we weren’t about to mess with the S.S. As a matter of fact, that was my new motto: “Don’t mess with the S.S.” Located one block East of the Carter’s street was our second stop – Plains United Methodist Church. That place of worship was built in 1910, and it was the church that Rosalynn Smith attended as a child. On July 7, 1946, Rosalynn married Jimmy Carter inside that historic Methodist church. As I posed for photos near the front of the brick church, I thought to myself that the structure didn’t appear old enough to have been built before Titanic sank.
Once we drove from the Methodist church through “downtown” Plains, which I nearly missed because I blinked my painted eyes once, we found the Lillian Carter Health and Rehabilitation Center. When Jimmy Carter was born there on October 1. 1924, it was known as the Wise Sanitarium. Carter was the first President born in a hospital; and he’s likely was the only President in history born in a sanitarium. After the hospital was built in 1921, it was known for its innovation – after all, it had 60 beds, an operating room, and an X-ray machine. It quickly got tagged as “The Mayo Clinic of the South” because of the care and treatment it delivered to its chronically ill patients; some of which suffered from tuberculosis. Although the President’s mother, Lillian Carter, was a registered nurse in the facility when Jimmy was born, there was no way she could’ve known that in 1976 the medical facility would be renamed after her. After I posed for several pictures outside of the rehab center, Tom carried me through the front door. His goal was to take me to the room where Jimmy was born, but the nurse on duty said that wouldn’t happen. Not only were we prohibited from entering the medical facility due to patient’s privacy rights, no one there knew if the actual birth room even existed. My photographer was told that numerous renovations had taken place since the President’s birth and it’s likely that his birth room was demolished long ago.
After my visit to Carter’s birthplace, I returned to church; only this old church was about a block West of the former Wise Sanitarium. Tom carried me onto the grounds in front of the Plains Baptist Church where I posed for a few images. It seemed strange to me that there was no grass in front of the building; it reminded me of Jimmy Carter’s boyhood farm. At first I wondered if there had been recent snake problems at the church; but the more I thought about it, the yard was likely being re-seeded or was in the process of being covered with sod. The historic wooden church was built in 1906 and had steeples on each side of the building. Earl and Lillian Carter worshipped in that church with their children; as a matter of fact, Jimmy was nine years old when he was baptized there. That place of worship played a huge part in Jimmy Carter’s life and he played a large part in supporting it as well. But some things change; when Carter was President in the late 1970s, he withdrew as deacon because the church refused to allow African Americans to attend. As soon as he quit that church, Carter helped form a new Baptist Church in Plains; one where he still worships and teaches at today.
The three of us headed back to the Plains Historic Inn area where Vicki wanted to spend some time shopping in the row of small shops. At the same time, Tom and I shopped for the two Presidential sites that were within walking distance of the inn. Located roughly two hundred yards and kitty-corner from the inn was an old train depot that featured large signs that let everyone know it was the Presidential campaign headquarters for Jimmy Carter in 1976. The large depot was white with green trim and was constructed in 1888, making it the oldest building in town. When passenger rail service ended in 1951, the depot ceased operation. That historic train depot gained national attention in 1976 when it became the headquarters for Jimmy Carter’s Presidential campaign. In fact, roughly 10,000 per day came to Plains to learn more about the candidate. In January 1977, after Carter’s successful election, an 18-car “Peanut Special” train that was filled to capacity departed from that depot and was bound for Washington where Jimmy’s supporters witnessed the inauguration. Tom carried me inside the historic depot that featured numerous displays about the ’76 campaign. While there wasn’t a lot to see inside, I stood on the floor of the depot because those floorboards were authentic to 1976 and Jimmy likely walked on them at some point.
From the historic Plains Depot, my photographer carried me across the main highway to a small Phillips 66 gas station that appeared to have gone out of business a while ago. But that wasn’t just any service station; it was once owned by Billy Carter – the infamous and colorful brother of the President. Billy bought the service station in 1972 and operated it until 1984. During his brother’s campaign in 1976, Billy’s gas station was a hot spot for gatherings. In that same year, Billy Carter ran for mayor of Plains; but he lost the election in a narrow defeat – 97 to 71 votes. It was hard for me to believe that 97 people in Plains would vote for one Carter to run the country, but not vote for his brother to lead their town. When the President’s younger brother died at the age of 51 in 1988, his former gas station was turned into a small museum dedicated to Billy’s memory. Tom placed me onto one of the old pumps where I posed with the gas station behind me. At one point, I was carried inside the building where I saw numerous mementoes associated with Billy Carter; including a case of Billy Beer and a display that featured some of Carter’s colorful outfits.
Tom carried me back across the highway where we met up with Vicki who was sitting in front of the Plains Trading Post eating an ice cream cone. Upon our arrival, my photographer’s wife mentioned that the Trading Post was filled with Presidential memorabilia – including campaign buttons. And she was right – when we walked inside that store, I heard my camera guy say aloud: “I’ve never seen so many campaign buttons for sale in my life. There must be a hundred thousand buttons in here; this is insane.” When Vicki finished her ice cream and my photographer quit drooling over the campaign buttons, the three of us strolled through the antique mall that was located below the inn. With about 25 separate booths to browse through, and not a lot of time to shop before the mall closed, my camera guy and his wife didn’t waste any time. While Vicki didn’t have anything in particular she was looking for, Tom had his sights set on Presidential memorabilia – primarily Jimmy Carter artifacts. When the pair met back up at the front of the store, my photographer had two items in his hand – one was a hand-signed Carter lithograph and the other was a full bottle of Coke that featured an engraving of the Historic Inn on the side. Coca Cola made the commemorative bottles for the Grand Opening of the Inn and the bottle’s engraving was designed by Jimmy Carter himself. The main reason that Tom wanted to add a bottle to his vast collection was because he saw one in Carter’s Presidential Library.
With Tom’s treasures safely stowed aboard the Highlander, we headed out to find the Maranatha Baptist Church, which was located less than a mile North of “downtown” Plains. Although there were two Baptist churches within a half mile of each other, the Maranatha Baptist Church was the one that Jimmy Carter helped form in 1978 after he quit the church where he had been baptized. Once the President and his wife left the White House in January 1981, they’ve attended Maranatha since. Tom wanted me to pose for exterior shots of Carter’s church that evening because he figured it could be hectic on Sunday morning. Upon our arrival, a patrol car from the county sheriff’s office was already stationed in the parking lot. After my photographer snapped a few photos of me in front of the church, we approached the patrol car where Tom had a discussion with the officer. The sheriff’s deputy was extremely friendly, and he mentioned that since the President was not conducting his Sunday school class in the morning that we didn’t need to arrive very early. He also reaffirmed what the woman at the inn had said earlier: “You should have no problem meeting the Carters in the morning as they pose for pictures with all the visitors following the sermon.” I was walking on air, and I know that my photographer was about to explode with joy as well; mainly because he didn’t have to wake up at 3:00am to get in line at the church.
During our drive out to the Maranatha Baptist Church, my photographer noticed a giant smiling peanut along the side of the road. The nut’s grin resembled Jimmy Carter’s signature smile and Tom figured it had something to do with the President. When my Chatty-Cathy camera guy finished his discussion with the police officer, we headed back to find the giant peanut. Soon after Vicki pulled the Highlander into the nearby gas station parking lot, I was removed from my camera case where I found myself face-to-face with a 13-foot-tall smiling peanut statue. It was the largest peanut I had ever seen; and as it turned out, it was the second largest statue of a peanut in the world. The campaign statue was originally commissioned by the Indiana Democratic Party and was featured at Carter campaign rallies around that state in 1976. Not only was the peanut 13 feet tall, it also had a large, toothy grin that was modeled after Carter’s smile. When Tom brought me closer to the monstrosity, I could see that Mother Nature hadn’t been kind to the peanut as there were marks, dings, and pieces missing from the “shell” of the large nut. But that wasn’t a total surprise; after all, the peanut statue was 43 years old; it had been constructed of chicken wire and polyurethane; and it’s been left exposed to the environment for decades.
Even though I laughed to myself during the photoshoot with Mr. Peanut, in the back of my mind I thought it was really cool that the iconic statue was saved from the scrap heap after the campaign. When my time with the unsalted nut was over, I was back in my camera case as we headed to the final two Jimmy Carter sites on our itinerary. The first site was located about two blocks West of the Plains Baptist Church where Carter was baptized. Vicki stopped the Highlander in front of a modest brick duplex; a small apartment that turned out to be the Dura Apartment housing unit where Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter lived for two years in the mid-1950s. As Tom carried me up the sidewalk to the front of the building, I knew we were at the right place because there was a metallic historical plaque affixed to the exterior wall. After Jimmy Carter’s father, Earl, died in 1953, the future President left the Navy and came home to run the family peanut business. Without an assured income and with a family that included three young sons, Jimmy applied for residence in the new housing unit in Plains and was assigned to unit 9-A. The Carters lived in that public housing unit from 1953 to 1955; which was when they moved to a larger rental house on the outskirts of town. Today, that house is known as the infamous “Haunted” Rylander House.
It was a few minutes after 7:00pm and we still had one Carter site left to visit. And quite frankly, it was the one site that made me extremely nervous. The Rylander House was built in 1850 by Matthew Rylander and is one of the oldest houses in the county. It had gained notoriety for tragedy that started during the Civil War and that reputation never seemed to end. But what had given me the chills when we parked along Old Plains Highway in front of the vacant building was the fact that it was reputed to be haunted. The funny thing was: that reputation goes back to when Jimmy Carter and Rosalynn Smith were children. When Jimmy walked from the family farm to school, he bypassed the “haunted house” and took the dangerous railroad tracks located several hundred yards behind Rylander’s place. Rosalynn’s story was similar as she hiked through the woods on the opposite side of the street just to avoid getting close to the spooky home. When I heard both stories, along with other legends where people have seen a woman in white walking near the house as well as other unexplained noises inside, it made me wonder why the Carters rented and lived in that house from 1956 to 1961. As a matter of fact, Jimmy Carter was elected to his first public seat, the Sumter County Board of Education, while he lived there. Vicki stayed in the Highlander as my photographer slowly walked towards the fenced-in yard. Even though there was a ‘No Trespassing’ sign attached to the fence, Tom made the decision to trespass when he couldn’t get good photos of the house from behind the fencing. The only way to access the weed-infested front yard of the home was through an opening in the fence that appeared to have been damaged by vandals. Thick brush and thistles made our journey more challenging, but we finally made it onto the Rylander property. My head and body was covered with sticky spider webs, which my photographer wiped off before I posed for the photos. I had wondered if Tom would get close enough to the house to place me onto the dilapidated porch, but that didn’t happen. During our stay, I didn’t hear any strange noises nor did I see a woman in white walking from the nearby cemetery. I did see one woman, however – she was sitting in a black Highlander looking at her cell phone. My photographer didn’t waste any time on the property; we finished our photoshoot and he quickly carried me back through the fence. In the back of my resin mind, I don’t think it was the ghosts that worried Tom; it was the fact that he had trespassed on posted property.
While it seemed as though we were finished with Jimmy Carter sites in Plains, there was one site that had been under our noses all day and we didn’t realize it. After Jimmy and Rosalynn helped to renovate and furnish the Plains Historic Inn around 2002, the couple spent the night in one of the suites. It turned out that they stayed in our room; the 1970s Presidential Suite. As soon as we returned to our room, Tom snapped numerous images of me as I posed on some of the furniture in our suite; including the bed where the Carters had slept. That bed was a breath of fresh air for me; I was finally going to get to stand on a bed where a living President once slept rather than their deathbed.
Our self-guided tour around the other suites in the Plains Historic Inn was finished and my companions decided it was time to find a place for a late dinner. With little to no options in Plains, at least at that time of day, the three of us boarded the Highlander and headed to Americus; a town that was roughly ten miles Northeast of where we were staying. During our ride along the two-lane rural highway, I rolled my eyes when Tom decided to try and impersonate Neil Diamond singing ‘America’ – he even changed the words to reflect the situation: “With no place to eat in Plains, we’re going to Americus.” It was roughly 8:00pm when we rolled into Americus, and unlike Jimmy Carter’s hometown, the sidewalks hadn’t yet been rolled up.
Once my photographer and his wife had finished their dinner at The Fish House, we made our way back to our home-away-from-home where I was placed onto a small table alongside the bed. There was no doubt that Tom and Vicki were exhausted from a full day of sightseeing as it didn’t take long for them to douse the lights. As I stood on that table in complete darkness, I heard Tom’s voice say: “Can you believe we’re sleeping in the same bed that a former President and First Lady slept in?” I laughed to myself when Vicki replied: “Just go to sleep. I’m sure the sheets have been changed since then!”
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The alarm clock woke my photographer and his wife the next morning at 6:00am, which was a lot later than it would’ve been had President Carter been teaching Sunday school that day. It was July 14, 2019; a day that Tom and I had been anticipating for awhile. If everything went as planned, the three of us were going to meet President Jimmy Carter and his wife Rosalynn. We had been concerned whether Carter would be able to attend church as it had been only two months since his surgery to repair a broken hip that he suffered on May 13th. But the miraculous former President, who beat brain cancer a few years earlier, was moving about with a walker and wasn’t about to miss a Sunday at his church. At an impressive 94 years old, Jimmy Carter is the longest-lived former President in U.S. history, and he showed no signs of slowing down just yet.
Once my companions had the Highlander packed, the three of us took one final tour of the Plains Historic Inn. That seven-suite inn would be the envy of any city, but it’s located smack in the middle of the low-key, friendly, and quaint hometown of our 39th President and that only added to its ambiance. The icing on the cake, however, was the fact the President and First Lady had a huge hand in bringing that historic inn to life – all in an effort to help bring visitors to Plains. We arrived at the Maranatha Baptist Church around 9:00am and the parking lot was almost empty. There was a small handful of vehicles there, as well as the sheriff’s patrol car that we saw the night before. The same friendly officer immediately approached our car and gave us an update on what we could expect that morning; and at first, the news made our jaws drop. The deputy informed us that Rosalynn Carter had fallen in her home on Saturday night and fractured her cheekbone. He continued to say that President Carter would likely skip the Sunday school class, but the officer was informed that Jimmy had planned to attend the main church service at 11:00am without his wife. The deputy concluded by saying that we should go have breakfast and come back by 10:15 – that would give us enough time to get through the Secret Service screening and then into the church before the service started.
I laughed to myself when I heard my photographer and his wife breathe a collective sigh of relief after learning about Rosalynn’s injury. While they were disappointed that we wouldn’t meet the former First Lady, Tom and Vicki were happy that she was doing fine, and that Jimmy had still planned to attend church that day. To kill some time, we found another Carter site that we didn’t see the previous day – it was the childhood home of Rosalynn Carter. Once our vehicle was parked, Tom carried me to the front of the small one-and-a-half-story wooden house where I posed for a few photos. After Eleanor Rosalynn Smith was born on August 18, 1927, she lived with her parents in their small home for the rest of her childhood. Her father died when Rosalynn was 13 and she helped her mother raise her three younger siblings. I heard my photographer laugh out loud when he saw a “Biden for President 2020′ campaign sign stuck in the ground in front of the historic house. I had to agree with Tom – with our country’s good economy, old-man Joe Biden has no chance to beat Donald Trump in 2020.
In an effort to kill some time after our visit to Rosalynn’s home, we rode around Plains for a final look at President Carter’s hometown. Being in Plains and meeting some of the hometown residents gave the three of us an insight on Jimmy Carter; because he was just like everyone else who lived there. Tom had read that Carter doesn’t mind being a “living tourist attraction”, but he’s a lot more than that. President Carter seems to be a genuine, honest, humble man who cares about his neighbors and his community. As a matter of fact, he’s without a doubt the most honest President since Abraham Lincoln; and he might even be more honest than Abe was. While the other living Presidents today get millions of dollars to give speeches; and they charge extra fees for Meet and Greets; Jimmy Carter meets visitors at his church for free. When I thought about it, what had turned my photographer and I into huge Jimmy Carter fans was when he was quoted as saying: “It’s just never been my ambition to be rich.”
When we arrived back at Maranatha Baptist Church at roughly 10:10am, the first thing we saw was two black armored limousines parked near the rear entrance of the building. To us, that only meant one thing: Jimmy Carter was inside that church. Seconds after we parked the Highlander, the same police officer that we had talked with earlier came up to our car and gave us the good news: “The President made it to Sunday school after all. Go ahead and walk through the back doors right over there. The Secret Service will be there to check your belongings and you’ll be good to go. Enjoy meeting the President – he’s a really nice guy.” I was extremely nervous as Tom carried me towards the church entrance. The Secret Service scanning station was my final hurdle before meeting the President; and I’m always concerned that they will keep me from entering. When one of the agents asked about me, my photographer replied with his usual spiel about what we do – plus he added: “This bobble head was in the Oval Office less than two months ago; there was no issue at all of me taking him into the White House.” The next thing I knew, we were led down a narrow hallway and into a small back room where Sunday school was already in session. After a quick scan from our position in the rear of the room, I saw President Carter sitting at a table near the lecturer. Throughout the remainder of the class, which lasted another half-hour, I never saw Carter’s face; his back was to us the entire time. When it was time for our group to move from that small classroom and into the sanctuary, some of the people that attended Sunday school talked with the President as we slowly made our way to the pews.
Finally we were seated – my photographer sat on the aisle and Vicki was seated to his left. From our pew, we had a great view of Jimmy Carter who sat two rows ahead of us across the aisleway. Through the small opening in my camera case, I could see three Secret Service agents inside the sanctuary – one of which was seated directly in front of us. My photographer and I had never been in a Baptist church before and we didn’t know what to expect.
The sermon lasted for roughly 45 minutes and was led by Pastor Tony Lowden; the first black pastor at Maranatha Baptist Church. There was only about 40 people in the congregation; about half of those were from outside of Plains. From the camera case, I listened intently on the pastor’s message and it was as though he was talking directly to the three of us. I had wondered for a moment if he had been riding in the Highlander with us during the first days of our trip. The message was powerful, meaningful, and to be honest, it hit home. The last thing I heard Pastor Lowden say was: “Mr. President, are you planning on meeting our visitors today for some pictures?” After Jimmy smiled and said “absolutely”, the pastor reminded everyone about the rules of no autographs, which my photographer knew ahead of time.
Carter took his time getting to the pulpit where a chair awaited him; but he insisted on standing to meet everyone. It was incredible to see the President standing there just two months after hip surgery; especially since he was 94 years old. The three of us stood up, slid out of the pew and into the aisle. Seconds later, it was our turn to meet the President. Tom handed his cell phone to a woman in charge of taking the pictures and he asked her to take as many as she could while we were with Carter. Vicki was the first to approach the President, who was wearing a blue striped shirt, black slacks, and a gray suit coat. Seconds after Jimmy Carter reached his right hand out to greet my photographer’s wife, she said to him: “It’s nice to meet you, President Carter. I’m sorry to hear about Rosalynn’s fall. I hope she is doing well today.” Carter flashed his trademark smile and said: “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.” As soon as Vicki walked to the right side of the President, he put his right arm around her – which left room for my photographer and I to make our approach. Tom held me in his left hand as he walked towards the President. As we got close, the Secret Service agent who stood near the President took a few steps closer to get a look at what Tom had in his hand – when he realized it was a harmless bobble head, he backed away. I knew that my photographer wanted Jimmy Carter to hold me for the photos, and I heard him say to the President when we got close to him: “Nice to meet you Mr. President. I travel with this bobble head to Presidential sites all around the country and I’m hoping you will hold him for our picture.” Carter smiled as he gazed at me and said in his southern drawl: “Of course you can have it in our picture. That’s not a problem at all.” The four of us looked at the camera and before I could blink my painted eyes, our moment was finished. I never made it into the hands of the President. Jimmy Carter saw me; he smiled at me; I stood next to him; I may have even touched his suit coat; but he never held me in his hands.
Meeting President Jimmy Carter in person was the biggest highlight for me up to that point, although standing in the Oval Office and seeing it with my own eyes was a close second. There will never be another Jimmy Carter; when he was created, the mold was destroyed. James Earl Carter, Jr. came from humble beginnings, yet he never forgot his roots. He worked hard and rose to the highest office in the nation; he met and dined with world leaders and royalty; he helped bring peace to the Middle East; and yet he shops at Dollar General and eats off paper plates with his neighbors. When they left the White House, Jimmy and Rosalynn could’ve made their home anywhere in the world; yet they returned to the modest house that the President had built in 1961. Jimmy Carter was born in Plains; he lives in Plains; and he will likely die and be buried in Plains – but hopefully not for a long time. And when that time finally comes and he’s laid to rest, I want to be there to say goodbye to an amazing gentleman and an even greater President.
