Georgia On My Mind
I never imagined that Georgia actually abutted the Atlantic Ocean. So, when I received an invitation to join my parents and four brothers and sister for a vacation in Sea Island, Georgia, I was perplexed.
I had spent the summer of 1970 in Aspen, Colorado, working on a construction crew (sweeping mostly) building a new motel called the Boomerang on Route 82.
The geography of America never ceases to amaze and impress me. The stark contrast between the soaring beauty of the Rocky Mountains overlooking Aspen and the seductive feel of the Georgia southeastern low country, with its wispy reeds and sandy marshes merging into the Atlantic, astounded me.
Yogi Berra once observed about his hometown of St. Louis, that “ it’s not the heat that will get you; it’s the humility”. Well, the “humility” I encountered when I stepped off the small airplane in Brunswick, Ga., was stifling even to this St. Louis boy, emerging from three months of dry air in Aspen.
When I greeted my father at the entrance to the Cloisters at Sea Island, I knew immediately that my decision to leave my hair long was a mistake. In a twinkling, I found myself being ushered into an old time Southern resort tonsorial establishment, headed by a barber who counted proudly among his customers, Lester Maddox and Strom Thurmond. In short order, so to speak, my hairstyle quickly transformed from a Rocky Mountain hippie mop to a Georgia National Guard custom buzz job.
Despite this bumpy entrance, I had no difficulty adjusting to beach life, tennis and southern family-style cuisine. As I have always been a political junkie, one morning I managed to land a copy of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution in a quest for some news. I happened upon a piece which described a quirky long shot primary run for Governor by a little known state senator from Plains: Jimmy Carter. The article detailed the race and concluded that Carl Sanders, a popular former Governor of Georgia, would win easily.
I mentioned this to my father who suggested that parts of the South were changing and that a populist “new Democrat” could win. I was too naive to appreciate the “nuance” of the Carter strategy of appeasing the Mattox wing of the Party while at the same time quietly rejecting the policies of racial discrimination.
After his stunning election as Governor, Mr. Carter passionately renounced Georgia’s Jim Crow legacy and ultimately rode his form of southern populism to the Presidency of the United States, comprised at the time of a citizenry weary of Watergate and yearning for a leader of character and probity.
Fifty-five years later, Americans both mourn and honor President Carter upon his death at age 100 as we salute his lifetime of service to the American people and to citizens around the world. I reflect fondly on that time back in Sea Island, when I first learned of this young politician by the name of Jimmy Carter, who went on to achieve improbable heights. Much like the diversity of its massive geography, Jimmy Carter is proof that anything is possible in America.
Joe Schlafly
January 8, 2025