Newly inaugurated President Jimmy Carter and First Lady Roslynn on their walk down Pennsylvania Avenue, 1977
President Jimmy Carter is a man whose long and distinguished post presidency will indelibly mark his place in history. To mark his 100th birthday, I offer this special memory from 47 years ago. I was there when he was inaugurated on January 20, 1977.
The temperature was in the teens when I parked my Honda Accorde in a lot next to Baltimore Penn Station. I was dressed in an abundance of layers, two pairs of socks and a pair of my dad’s old combat boots. Perfect for outdoors but overkill for a heated train car so I clearly remember shoving my coat and stocking cap into the overhead luggage shelf along with my canvass knapsack (pre-backpack, kids). Excited about the historic prospects for the day, I scrambled out of the train at Union Station and headed for the US Capitol grounds.
From start to finish, my strongest memory of the day was just how cold it was. The temperature in Washington never got out of the 20’s and the wind-chill (not “invented” at that time) must have remained in the teens. I might add that while I was prepared, I was not prepared well enough. I was cold 15 minutes in and remained cold throughout the day.
As I approached the Capitol grounds, I remember some DC and US Capitol Police, but not the armed camp that we have come to expect for major DC events. In the pre-9/11 world, there were no metal detectors, bag searches, or bomb sniffing dogs. If they had looked in my knapsack, they would have found my coffee thermos, my bologna and cheese on white, my binoculars, and my Pentax SLR camera. Boy Scout prepared, but boring. I found a great spot behind the old stone wall between the East Front and the Supreme Court. These walls around the perimeter of the grounds were part of the original landscape design of Frederick Law Olmsted. The East Front walls were constructed between 1874 and 1876. At my location they are chest high. The police had discouraged people from sitting or standing on “my” wall, so I had a pretty sweet view. I was able to prop my elbows on the wall to steady my Tasco binoculars. That gave me the equivalent of a front row seat. This was the last Inaugural Ceremony on the East Portico of the Capitol, the side facing the US Supreme Court. Considered the “front” of the building, it was the site of every inauguration from Andrew Jackson in 1826 to Carter’s in 1977. Carter’s successor Ronald Reagan moved his inauguration to the west side of the Capitol, thus providing the backdrop of the entire National Mall including the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, and Arlington Cemetery in the distance. Reagan’s Hollywood background gave him a true sense of a picturesque set design. The West Front has been the setting for every inauguration since, accommodating more space for attendees, up to the record-breaking million observers for Barack Obama’s inauguration.
By contrast, the East Front setting that day was intimate. While the crowd could stretch down East Capitol Street, the concentration of people was in a bowl formed by The Supreme Court Building, the Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress, and the East Front of the Capitol. I don’t remember one thing that President Carter said in his address, possibly because I had lost all feeling in my frozen feet and legs before the ceremony began. It also might be the fact that the speech has not found its way into the list of memorable Presidential oratory. All I remember is the bright sunshine, the relentless wind through the leafless trees, and trying to remember the early symptoms of hypothermia. Before the ceremony ended, I was on the move, around the south (House) side of the Capitol, down the Independence Avenue hill and across the Mall at 4th Street. I ducked into the National Gallery of Art to thaw and rest my legs. Blessed warmth. I also took the opportunity to surreptitiously scarf down my bologna sandwich. When I braved the cold again, I walked down Pennsylvania Avenue and found open curb space in front of the Department of Commerce Building. For the first time, I realized that the brutal temperature and wind held down the crowd size along the parade route, so my vantage point was front row again. As I settled in and again started to shift my weight from one foot to the other to try to keep some blood circulation going, I realized that I was completely surrounded by people speaking with Southern accents similar to our new President. Georgian. Friendly, loud, non-stop Georgian. We quickly became fast friends, comparing souvenir buttons, badges, and ribbons. Given the new President’s peanut farmer roots in Plains, GA, each of us had at least one peanut on display. I remember the parade of cars containing Cabinet Members followed by the Honor Guards, Then came the High School, and Military Bands, and one giant inflated peanut visible blocks before it got to us.
But the highlight of the day was “The Walk.” Now a staple of inauguration parades (much to the chagrin of the Secret Service) Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter were the first and their unannounced stroll was all the way from the Capitol to the White House.
The element of surprise was part of the security associated with the Carters' walk. No one expected to see the First Couple any place but behind the bulletproof windows of the Presidential limousine. As it became more routine and our world became more dangerous, the length of the walk was shortened, and the parade route surveillance and fire power increased. As I became one of the hosts for our annual parade reception at the National Archives Building, I witnessed the early-morning arrival of the Secret Service sharpshooters headed for our roof with their long black bags. As my new Georgia friends and I looked down Pennsylvania Avenue, we could see the crowd cheering and waving as the motorcade passed the National Archives and the Justice Department and slowly inched towards us. We all assumed that they were waving at the new First Couple in one of the procession of black Cadillac’s. But as the cars and the cheering drew nearer, the woman next to me screamed, “There’s Jimma’ and he’s Waaawkin’” And yes, he was, right by me and my Peach State pals, as they waved their cutout peanuts, and yelled to beat all. Because of the antics and accents, we got a very direct look and wave by the President and Rosalynn. “He saw us.” “He looked at us.” “He looked at me.” My new pals were levitating. I thought of that moment as I thawed out on the train ride home, and I’ve smiled about it often in the 47 years since.
Happy Birthday Mr. President. Your service to the nation and the world are a model for the ages.
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