The passing of former president Jimmy Carter brought on a wealth of memories for me.
Apart from having grown up during his tenure as the 39th president of the United States, a few years back I had also been given the opportunity — nay, privilege — of having spent several days with this Nobel Peace Prize winner, elder statesman known for his peace-keeping and humanitarian efforts and the face of Habitat for Humanity.
A group of food journalists had been invited by the Peanut Institute and the Peanut Bureau of Canada to visit Plains, Ga., to chat about the industry with local peanut farmers — including the most famous of peanut farmers, James Earl “Jimmy” Carter Jr.
Our small but mighty group of Canadian journalists spent several days in Plains, Ga. — small-town Americana at its finest — with the Carter family and watched up close and personal just how incredible this man was. It is said only history will reveal if he was a powerful president or not while in the Oval Office, but he was one of the most successful ex-presidents in U.S. history — a true pillar of the community with a salt-of-the-earth demeanor.
And I saw it up close and personal — how compassionate he was, kind and generous with a touch of humility. With his constantly twinkling blue eyes, you couldn’t help but get swept up in his good-natured spirit.
During our visit, the Plains Peanut Festival was in full gear, and included everything from a fun run, arts and crafts, street dancing, a parade, live performances and, of course, hanging out with the former president and lovely wife Rosalynn Carter.
Plains is a picturesque little town with a very small main square, white-picket homes and southern charm. But everywhere you looked, the Carter influence was huge — and just about everyone knew Jimmy and Rosalynn, along with various members of their family.
During our visit, the late Billy Carter’s widow (Billy of the Billy Beer fame and favourite of Saturday Night Live sketches) was on hand to chat about her husband at his old gas station, which has now been transposed into a small museum. And it was delightful and touching to watch the former White House Royals move among the crowds, genuinely enjoying themselves. We even watched as they taught Sunday School to the local children.
During our visit, we had a special dinner with the Carters and various peanut officials. It was a small crowd, food was good and Jimmy Carter welcomed us all. The man, although mildly frail in stature, was sharp as a whip, and during dinner he stood and gave a small speech before taking questions from the audience.
My hand shot up faster than a rocket. My body followed.
I have a question! I hollered, barely containing my enthusiasm.
He looked a little startled but smiled and pointed to me. And this is what I said:
“Mr. President, I am here with the Canadian delegation of journalists and, speaking on their behalf, and on behalf of all of Canada, we would like to graciously thank you for having come to our defence when the movie Argo came out — you knew the truth that it was the Canadians who saved the day.
“And for this we are eternally grateful. Thank you, Mr. President.”
Well, the man just beamed and went into detail on the whole event — how the movie basically re-wrote history, denying the Canadian contribution during the Iran crisis of the late 1970s. Carter named all the Canadian officials involved, and spoke of tense late-night discussions with the late Flora McDonald, whom he admired greatly, and how profound the Canadian ambassador Ken Taylor’s role was, how proud he was that so many Americans were saved thanks to Canadian know-how.
“It was a great movie,” Carter said, “but it wasn’t the truth.”
I then thanked Jimmy Carter for having come to the defence of all Canadians in telling the truth.
What I didn’t know is when I jumped up with my question, a Secret Service man standing directly behind me jumped to attention, too, and thought I was going to attack the former president.
“I was gonna jump you!” the Secret Service guy told me later, after the dinner, his accent thick with southern charm. “That accent of yours was a dead giveaway.”
Seriously? I have an accent? I was going to be jumped by Secret Service?
All this and Jimmy Carter, too!