I couldn’t stomach Jimmy Carter–until my view of him turned around 180 degrees just four years ago.
Like most Democrats who supported Ted Kennedy’s run against him, I tagged Carter as just some grinning anti-New Deal Bible-thumping goober. And his post-Presidential “peacemaking” was often dangerously naïve, as I saw in Liberia where Carter had boosted the presidential candidacy of war-criminal Charles Taylor for president because Taylor, a murderous monster, proclaimed he’d been born again in Jesus.
I nick-named Carter, “The Dangerous Christian.”
But then, while staking out the current Governor, the vote-suppressing racist Brian Kemp, I did a little re-con outside Kemp’s office. I had my face to the wall, pretending to study the official portraits of the State's governors. I was struck that only one, James Earl Carter, refused to have his photo taken with his own state flag fully visible because it included the Confederate flag's Stars and Bars. In Georgia, at that time, 1971, that took immeasurable courage. That took integrity.
Alav ha-Shalom, President Carter.