This Presidential Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words
It's a scene we've all seen countless times – an elderly couple, the man on the outside nearest the curb (always the gentleman), walking together slowly, one or both with a cane. It's twilight, both literally and figuratively, and the lovebird seasoned citizens are enjoying the lengthening shadows of another day in a long and fruitful life.
Except the couple pictured here are no ordinary people – they're former President Jimmy Carter and his wife, Rosalynn. The former president and first lady are 94 and 90, respectively, and they're living out their days in Plains, Georgia, the same town they settled in following the 39th president's departure from the White House in 1981.
In this picture, the Carters are walking home from Saturday night dinner at friend Jill Stuckey's house, a weekly tradition. It's a half-mile journey.
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The Carters have been married a remarkable 72 years, just one-year shy of President George H.W. Bush and his late wife, Barbara, who celebrated 73 years together prior to Mrs. Bush's death this past April.
On many levels, this simple picture is extraordinary, and all in wonderful ways.
First, there is something beautiful about elderly married couples walking together, men and women who have weathered the seasons and cycles of life. Once vivacious and vibrant, now slowed and stooped by age, but nevertheless still together, still stepping forward without fear – and this instance, without any fanfare.
Second, when was the last time you walked to a neighbor's house for dinner? Sadly, so many today don't even know the people who live around them, let alone take a weekend evening to break bread together. Our nation would be a lot healthier if neighbors shared meals now and again.
Third, though the Secret Service are in the shot, a few steps behind, it's refreshing to see once powerful people engaged in the most ordinary and most timeless of all pursuits – walking in middle class neighborhoods. Today's elites are so often ensconced in big black cars, looking out at the world through bullet proof glass, or secured behind stone walls. Here are the Carters on a concrete sidewalk with cracks, just like the ones outside my house, walking a street that could be Anytown, USA.
Years ago, President Harry Truman, another ordinary man, a haberdasher, whose ascent to the presidency shocked and shook the world, was returning home on the train to Independence, Missouri. It was only a few years since he had left the White House. When he stepped off the train, children ran to the window to watch him walk to his car. He turned and waved, climbed behind the wheel and headed home to his wife, Bes.
No Secret Service, no press, no paparazzi.
When I read that account, I remember thinking, "That'll never happen again." But when I saw this picture, it gave me some hope that maybe we're not as far away from those days as I feared.
And finally, maybe the picture put a lump in my throat because it reminded me of my own parents, Jim and Joan Batura, who made it to 57 years of marriage before my mother's death in 2012. They're both gone now and I miss them each and every day. They loved to walk together during the summer, hand-in-hand, along the streets but especially the shoreline of Long Island. They were inseparable and when my mother died, she was holding my father's hand.
In this age of highly partisan, polarizing politics, it would be easy for non-Democrats to discount President Carter's recent good deeds or even criticize his positions on some of the key issues of our day. But decent people who may otherwise disagree on matters of politics and policy can at least agree that it is good and right to celebrate a couple whose seven-decade journey of faithfulness still finds them walking together on a quiet George street at sunset.
