Jimmy Carter and me

Back in 1980, I was a freshmen in college.

I was a Political Science Major and I was elected as the President of the Young Democrats Club at the University of Akron. I got a political internship on Jimmy Carter’s campaign in Ohio.

Hearing the news of Jimmy Carter’s passing made me sad for many reasons. I’m sad for the end of an era, I doubt the world will ever see a leader as decent and compassionate as he was again. I’m also sad because he was a hero of mine who never let me down, never made me feel ashamed to support him, and was someone who was always a shining example of what love and faithfulness looks like in action.

Today I want to share a special memory of my encounter with President Carter from 1980 that I wrote about back in 2003 when he won the Nobel Prize. I hope you will enjoy reading it.

Brush With Greatness ……..Tamilu  © 2003

Last Saturday morning, I saw the newspaper headlines and immediately called my Mom.  “Mom, have you ever had pizza and a beer with a Nobel Prize winner? I asked.  “No.” she replied.  “Well, *I* have.” I said.

I have, you know.  

Last week, although long overdue, former President Jimmy Carter won the Nobel Peace Prize for a lifetime of service, and peace making, a lifetime of giving and showing Christian love.  He is on my list of heroes.  And, of course, there is the fact that we shared a pizza.

Although it’s an unpopular admission in Christian circles these days, I’ll admit it. I am a Democrat.  A Democrat with roots.  In the fall of 1980, I was the President of my Young Democrats Club at the University of Akron.  

I was, at the time, a Political Science major, and had taken a job on the Carter Campaign as an intern, for which I would receive college credit. Not to mention the thrill of working on a Presidential campaign in the first election in which I was old enough to vote.  

I worked tirelessly, and spent tons of time schmoozing at fund-raisers, speaking on campus, and encouraging kids to register to vote.  Apparently, I got enough students to register to vote that someone took notice. Ohio happens to be one of those states that people running for office pay some attention to because of our nice lump of electoral votes. (On a sad but true note, a statistic from this election year was that more people turned in to Dallas to find out “WHO SHOT J.R.”  than voted in the election.)

I got a call from the head of the Democratic Party in my county inviting me to come to Ohio State University where 60 Minutes anchor Dan Rather was going to interview politically active college students.  Of course, I said yes.  One of my friends and I headed off to Columbus.    I was given a book of campaign platforms to memorize.  I assumed this was to keep me from embarrassing the Democratic Party of Ohio on national TV.  I stayed up all night learning all the information, and rehearsing my clever answers to Dan’s questions.  Only problem being Dan didn’t ask me any questions pertaining to the material I’d learned.

In one of those moments when you wish you could rewind and film again, I said something really corny and dumb on TV.  My friends taunted me about it for years.

When Dan Rather asked “Why aren’t you out at beer parties with all the other college kids” I said something really lame like “Because beer parties can’t change the world.”  Boy, I bet that was quoted back to me 400 times, and always with gales of laughter.

That night, after the cameras were gone, we went to some Ohio State Pizzeria where we were treated to dinner by the Democratic Party.

Suddenly, there was a bustle in the room, and in walked the President of the United States, Jimmy Carter.  He wasn’t alone; his companions for the evening were Andrew Young, who at the time was the first black mayor of Atlanta, GA, and Coretta Scott King, widow of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Not to mention the Secret Service guys.

I was in the presence of greatness, and I knew it then.  There is something in the gaze of great men; perhaps a hint of their faith in God that leeks out through their eyes – a passion, a hunger for something beyond them that is visible to anyone who meets them. 

He sat down, and spoke to us.  He had a slice of pizza.  He asked questions and listened while we answered. He made eye contact.  I could barely breathe, it was surreal.  Then, just as suddenly, the Secret Service men came along and whisked him back out into the night, and he was gone.

I found myself replaying our conversation in my head.  Did I say anything stupid?  Did he like me? I briefly concluded that we had enjoyed a nice conversation, but then realized I was a child, and he was a President, and certainly nothing I said would matter to him.

Perhaps I was wrong. A few days later, I was back in Akron, and got a certified letter at the campaign headquarters.  It was an official invitation to the Presidential debates between Carter and Reagan that were being held at a hotel ballroom in Cleveland.  There were 100 seats to this event, and I had a ticket for one of them.  I went. To this day I can close my eyes, and take myself back to that room, and see those two men standing before me, like being in the Hall of Presidents at Disneyland without having to pay the price of admission. I have no idea how I got an invitation. But to boost my ego, I have convinced myself President Carter invited me himself.  I cannot prove this, of course, but it makes me happy to think it.

I worked for President Carter because he was a believer in Jesus, because he spoke about it, because his policies were consistent with his faith, because he chose peaceful solutions when war would have been understandable.  No one can accuse President Carter of using a proclamation of faith in Jesus just to get elected. The example of his life speaks volumes about the heart of the man, and the love of Christ is visible in his deeds.  He could be out on the golf course every day instead of building homes for poor people with Habitat for Humanity.  He could stay safely in Georgia instead of traveling around the globe stepping into impossible situations trying to promote peace. He still teaches a Sunday school class at his Baptist Church. He’s a man of faith. I’m proud to say I worked for him.  I am delighted he has finally been honored for a lifetime of service and decency and Christian love.

Of course, being a peaceful man doesn’t always work well in political circles.  The end of the story, of course, is that he was branded as ineffectual and wimpy and lost the election.  I was heart-broken about his defeat, and dropped out of college and ran off with a theatre group. But that’s another story.

Today, just know I had pizza with a Nobel Prize Winner.   -Tamilu-