Jody Powell passed away this week. Only last year we lost Ham Jordan, the other half of Jimmy Carter’s whiz kids.
These two, in many ways, personified what I see as a special type of Southern spirit. It wasn’t just that they wore jeans to social functions with the establishment in Washington. It wasn’t just their sense of humor.
It was also their intelligence, their willingness to cut through the waste product, their dedication to doing good.
I was fortunate enough to meet Jody, however briefly.
Two weeks before the Iowa Caucus of 1976 I was on my way to Japan and Korea. I was getting comfortable in first class when a bit of a disturbance came to my attention. Jimmy Carter came aboard. The poor man was riding in coach.
Then candidate Carter was seated not far behind me in the front of the coach section. He was to change planes in Dallas on his way to Des Moines. After getting airborne I went to speak with him. His entourage consisted of Jody, just Jody.
Let me set the scene. Mr. Carter was the immediate past Governor of Georgia. I had just left office, serving as mayor of a suburb of Atlanta. Rosalynn Carter’s sister Allethea was my neighbor. She lived three houses down from me. Her husband was the developer of our subdivision. She was as sweet as any woman I have ever met. Her husband was not.
Let me say that he was so “down home” it seems strange to refer to the former President other than as Jimmy. In his presence I called him Governor. Even when he was President, Jody and others close to him called him Governor.
He asked where I was going. My answer began a discussion of foreign policy. It wasn’t really a discussion. Jimmy was asking questions. He was truly asking.
My greatest impression of him is that he wants the opinions of others. He was actually listening. He did this with everyone, then made up his mind. He really wanted your opinion and considered it but that didn’t mean he would take your advice.
Jody was mostly silent. My understanding is that silence was not his only mode.
We had what for me was a memorable encounter. I did get a quick impression of Ham Jordan’s strategy. I was convinced at that point that Jimmy would be the next President.
I wanted to sign up to work for him full-time. That was not possible. I had become a widower little more than a year earlier. I had two young children to take care of and other responsibilities.
Even though I moved to Washington in 1979 for graduate school, I never again got to meet Jody. I lived in the large apartment building at 1500 Massachusetts Avenue, 6 or 7 blocks from the White House.
I was at a few functions where Jimmy was but never again had the opportunity to engage him directly. Later, when I was active in the area of mental health, I had chances to speak with Rosalynn, primarily at her annual convocations on mental illness at the Carter Center. I wish I could have been closer to all three of them. They are special people.
It was typical of Jimmy that, when he heard of Jody’s demise, he went to Americus, Georgia to inform Jody’s mother. He wanted to spare her hearing of it from the media. As I said, they are special people.
Jody would have been 66 years old the 30th of this month. My memories of him came primarily from following him and Ham through the media but I can say that I met a special Southern spirit.
My condolences to his family and friends.
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