How a small town helped shape a global icon
A week-long tribute will end in Plains, Georgia in a fitting tribute to the place the former president always called home
The small town of Plains, Georgia will bid farewell to Jimmy Carter today as the former president is laid to rest in the humble surroundings that witnessed his birth, death and many years of his life.
Carter was the oldest living president when he died last month at the age of 100.
A week-long funeral has been held in his honour since Saturday, starting in Plains and which will end in Plains in a fitting tribute to the place he always called home.
Itās not until you visit the town of less than 600 people in Georgia that you appreciate just how remarkable it was that Carter should have returned here after being president. Itās hard for most people to return to rural life after theyāve made their fortune in a big city, let alone a world leader. But Carter was different. Plains shaped his political consciousness and in turn he has shaped Plains.
When Jimmy Carter was born in 1924 the town was a very different place. Like much of the South it was heavily segregated, with Blacks and Whites banned from mixing in public. For Jimmy and his mother, Lillian, that never sat right with them.
When Jimmyās conservative father, James, was away Lillian would invite Black guests to the house, while Jimmy would spend long days working on the family farm alongside its black staff and mixing with them as friends after. One of them became his best friend ā Alonzo Davis.
The pair were inseparable but in accordance with the laws, they had to ride in separate carriages of the trains and sit in separate floors of the theatre.
āThere were a lot of White kids and Black kids that played together, but when other people, White people in this area became of age, like 14, 15 years old, then they started separating. Their parents told them, āyou know, you donāt need to be as close to them,āā said Jill Stuckey, one of Carterās lifelong friends and the superintendent of the Jimmy Carter National Historic Park.
āJimmy didnāt understand that. He didnāt think that that was right,ā she said.
In 1956, Carter won a seat on the local school board and with the support of his wife Rosalynn, whom he married 10 years earlier, tried, but ultimately failed, to convince the other board members to desegregate the schools.
āHe and Rosalynn were both so appalled by the school system segregation here that he wanted to try to change that,ā said Stuckey.
This sense of injustice lit a fire in him that became a guiding force in a life dedicated to helping the poor, oppressed and disenfranchised.
He knew that only by running for higher office could he change the system, said Stuckey. And so after his knockback on the board, he felt impelled to run for state senator, then governor and finally president, taking him to Atlanta and then the White House, where he signed landmark civil rights legislation and overhauled the state prison and mental hospitals, among his achievements.
But for all his success, the trappings of power were not enough to keep him from Plains. And at any opportunity he would return to the house he and his wife built there in 1961, eventually living there permanently after his presidential term ended.
In October, I visited Plains to see the celebrations for Carterās 100th birthday. It was a momentous occasion, marking more than a year-and-a-half since he was admitted to hospice care, a milestone few thought heād see.
The sun was out and the mood was joyous.
I took a taxi from Americus, a nearby city, first to his boyhood home a couple of minutes away from the town centre.
When we got there, I asked the driver where the town was.
āWe just passed it,ā he said.
āI told you, blink and youāll miss it.ā
Thatās how small Plains is. Circling back, I found a handful of shops, a school, a church and not much else. But therein lies its beauty. Thereās a simple honesty and serenity to the place, redolent of a bygone era. There are no fancy restaurants or chain stores. Thereās one cafĆ© that closes shortly after lunchtime; a historic inn with a few rooms; a shop selling political memorabilia; a general store. The day ends well before sunset and if you donāt have a car youāre stuck.
But the sense of pride and identity is immense. The love Carter had for the town and its place in history has given the community purpose, said Philip Kurland, the owner of the Plains Trading Post, which sells political memorabilia.
He remembers meeting the Carters for the first time 30 years ago and being shocked that he should see a former president standing so casually in his doorway.
āIt was when we first moved here and we were rushing to open because we had a big event coming. And I turned to my wife and I said, āI wonder if they really live hereā and I looked up and there they were to welcome us into the community,ā he said.
Everyone there had stories like that.
The owner of a shop selling peanut butter ice cream said the Carters would regularly come in for a scoop of their delicious homemade dessert. At the Buffalo CafƩ, his sandwich of choice was the southern classic, pimento cheese.
ā[Jimmy and Rosalynn] would go all the way down the street and stop in and talk to people and if there were tourists theyād stop and talk to them,ā said his niece Kim Fuller.
The picture painted was one of a man who was approachable, compassionate and humble. As he approached the end of his life, having not been seen in public since July 4th, this was the abiding memory many people had.
When he returned to Plains, Carter began to cement his legacy as a humanitarian. He founded the Carter Centre, an organisation dedicated to human rights, conflict resolution and eradicating disease. In 1995 he arranged a four-month āguinea worm cease-fireā in Sudan so that his centre could reach almost 2,000 endemic villages.
He threw himself into volunteering with Habitat for Humanity, a non-profit organisation that builds homes for the poor, and with Rosalynn led a team that helped build and repair 4,447 homes in 14 countries.
He taught Sunday school twice a month to a packed church and mowed its lawn. He spoke with locals, helped businesses and even shook hands with fellow passengers on commercial flights.
āWhen I got sick he sat with me for an hour, we prayed together and talked together. And from that point on, we had a real good relationship,ā said Kurland.
āIt was a relationship that I could discuss any topic and he would be willing to talk about it, providing I had my facts straight.
One of those who attended his Sunday school was Mike Gaines, who was in Plains from Kentucky for Carterās celebrations. He was awestruck by the belief Carter had in delivering the word of God.
āHe was old school,ā Gaines said.
āHe truly cares about people. Thatās what our candidates are getting away from,ā he said.
Another person there that day inspired by Carterās strong moral and religious values was Reed Elliotte, a 14-year-old Kentuckian obsessed with US presidents.
He was rooting for Donald Trump ahead of Novemberās election and identifies as a Republican, but his all-time favourite president is Carter, a Democrat. When heās eligible to run, Elliotte wants a shot at the presidency to carry on Carterās work.
āI want to help the American people and restore the honesty back in the government like Jimmy Carter did,ā said Elliotte.
At 3:45pm today, mourners will gather for a private service at the Maranatha Baptist Church, following Carterās state funeral in Washington. He will be buried at the Carter home next to his beloved Rosalynn.
Over the course of his life, hundreds of thousands of tourists, journalists and well-wishers have visited Plains, helping to sustain its economy and putting this tiny speck on the map.
I asked Kurland on Monday how the town was processing Carterās death. He said it hadnāt sunk in for many, but the mood was āupbeat and positiveā.
āWeāve decided weāre going to celebrate his life and celebrate all the good Carter did.ā
āHis goal was to leave planes better than it was.
āWhen we first got here, we couldnāt get by unless he taught Sunday school.
āHe hadnāt taught Sunday school for years [before his death], but every store is now profitable and active. So, he succeeded. Plains is self-sufficient now and thatās exactly what he wanted.ā