STATEMENT BY CLIFTON TRUMAN DANIEL
ON THE PASSING OF PRESIDENT JIMMY CARTER

Today, our nation mourns the loss of a beloved statesman, world citizen, Nobel Peace Prize winner, friend and neighbor.

Our thoughts and prayers are with the entire Carter family, our friends and colleagues at the Carter Center and the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library and Museum, and all those who loved and were inspired by him.

I am honored to have spent enough time with Jimmy Carter, the longest surviving president in United States history, to consider the ways in which the Plains, Georgia, farmer was like my own grandfather, Harry Truman.

As tributes pour in for a former president who will be remembered for his faith, his fidelity, his character and his global leadership on peace and human rights, I hope these recollections will help illuminate the character and humanity of America’s 39th commander in chief.

Remembering Jimmy Carter

By Clifton Truman Daniel

THE FIRST TIME I met former President Jimmy Carter, I went blank.

The occasion was a 1995 fundraiser for the Truman Library. The Institute’s development director had organized a lavish dinner for nearly 1,000 guests at Washington’s National Building Museum. On the dais were Mr. Carter, Gerald Ford, and President Bill Clinton. Vice President Gore was there, too.

We started the evening with a VIP reception, a receiving line with President Clinton being the main attraction. But he was nearly two hours late (surprise!), so we rushed through it. Heading backstage in the dark, I got turned around.

I popped out from behind a curtain and there was President Carter, going over his notes.

I introduced myself, and the first thing he asked was, “How’s your mother?” She was in the hospital, and I was attending the dinner in her place. I had just told him that she was on the mend when President Ford came through the curtain, followed by President Clinton.

I was standing with three presidents. Which is why I went blank.

They lined up to go out and I fell in behind President Clinton, as you do.

The instant I emerged from backstage, apparently sneaking up behind the President of the United States, two Secret Service agents grabbed me and demanded to know who I was. When I told them, they said, “Oh, for God’s sake, they’ve been looking for you. You’re on the wrong side. You missed your introduction. Wait until the president goes out, then head to your seat. And don’t go out during ‘Hail to the Chief’.” When I skulked up onto the dais, almost 1,000 people wondered where I’d been. One, my wife, Polly, thought I’d probably picked the worst time in the world to go to the bathroom.

The second time I met President Carter was much better.

It was nearly four years ago, when I was invited to speak to a meeting of the Carter Collectibles Society in Plains, Georgia. President and Mrs. Carter were in the front row. Having learned that my grandfather was Mr. Carter’s favorite president, I decided to give a speech on all the ways Harry Truman was like Jimmy Carter.

Both were honest men who came from modest means. Both fell in love early and stayed devoted to their spouses for the rest of their lives. Both were farmers and small businessmen. Both served in the military. Both got into politics because they thought they could make things better … for everyone.

Both believed in equality and civil rights. Both refused to cash in on the presidency after they left office. Mr. Carter, in fact went Grandpa one better by living what is arguably the best, most successful post-presidency in American and world history. In fact, I’m told that his favorite cartoon depicted a child declaring, “Mommy, when I grow up, I want to be a former president.”

Through it all, both remained kind and approachable. Grandpa often personally greeted visitors to the Truman Presidential Library. Until recently, Mr. Carter taught Sunday school every week in Plains, often teasing visiting clergy with, “What’s the matter, can’t find work in your own churches?”

In the White House, if my grandmother, Bess, left Grandpa on his own, he’d sometimes eat dinner in the kitchen with the staff. At a church supper in Plains, President Carter started to take a seat next to a small child when the child informed him he couldn’t. “Why not?” Mr. Carter asked. “Because,” the kid said, “my momma’s gonna sit there.”

When people called to Grandpa during his morning walks, they’d yell not, “Good morning, Mr. President,” but, “Hi, Harry!”

In Plains, everyone called President Carter “Mr. Jimmy.” The Secret Service vehicle was a pickup truck, and the former president was known to arrive at events wearing dusty blue jeans. Historian Larry Cook, a close friend of the Carters, often forgot he was in the company of a former president.

Some years ago, Jan Williams, Amy Carter’s former teacher and Lillian Carter’s former secretary, noticed that the president was about to walk into an event with a stray lock of hair sticking straight up in the back, like Alfalfa from The Little Rascals. “I’ve tried, but I can’t get it to stay down,” the president said. Without thinking, Jan licked her palm and smooshed the hair flat. Mr. Carter thanked her and, when he emerged an hour later and saw her, he pointed to his head and said, “Look! It’s still working!”

 

 

 

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