He and Mrs. Carter are on my mind this week
(Going through old files, I found this print of a cartoon about Mr. Carter which he autographed.)
For a few months in 1986 I lived in Sumter County Georgia, and slept in an old farmhouse that had bullet holes in the walls.
I also met former President Jimmy Carter, and former First Lady Rosalynn Carter.
The Carters, as well as their Secret Service detail came to visit while I was summer intern at Koinonia Farm, which is about 10 miles from Plains.
Koinonia was founded in 1942 as a “demonstration plot for the Kingdom of God.” The bullet holes in the farmhouse walls were from the years in which their neighbors objected to their efforts towards racial integration.
You can read about the inspiring history and ongoing mission of Koinonia at: https://www.koinoniafarm.org/brief-history/
The Carters rode their bicycles from Plains to join us for Sunday afternoon worship. Their security detail did not ride bikes. They had a lead car and a following van. Each agent had the ear bud with the curly-wired leads we’ve seen in the movies, that went down under their collared shirts, over which they all wore matching blue blazers, which tastefully hid their holstered weapons.
As I remember, there were 4 agents, who placed themselves near the exits of the dining hall where we met for worship.
I was the worship leader and preacher that day. I have no idea what I said, and it’s a blessing no notes survived. At that point I’d had a whole two years of seminary training and possessed far more confidence than practical wisdom.
The Carters were as gracious as you’d expect, and Mr. Carter extended an invitation for the following Sunday, for our intern group to attend his Sunday School class at Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains.
Five years after the Carters left the White House, people flocked to Plains to attend. When we pulled into the church parking lot in the Koinonia van, the same one we used to run to town to pick up groceries (and the occasional clandestine case of beer) we saw license plates from almost every state.
On that day, Mr. Carter taught about the ancient history of Israel, with many references to the Camp David accords, and the Arab-Israeli Peace Process.
Before the formal lesson, Mr. Carter introduced the Koinonia summer interns. He said all of our names, and told the large crowd (there were hundreds in the auditorium) where we were from.
When he got to me, he noted I was the sole Canadian. He said he continued to be grateful for the involvement of Canada in the rescue of American diplomats from Tehran in 1980.
I received a handshake from a former president, and an enthusiastic round of applause from those gathered in that church auditorium.
Thirty years later, I told this story to my daughter, and she quoted me as a primary source for a high school history paper.
It’s hard to say which was the greater honor.
Darrow Woods: Writer of Things 