Reflecting on the Carter Funeral

Editor,

As I write this, January 9th, the screen in front of me features the funeral of President Jimmy Carter at the National Cathedral in D.C. I’m quite familiar with the Cathedral because one of our sons, David, was a choir boy there in the early 1970s when John, LTC, USA, was stationed at the Pentagon. During services I used to sit at the back of the choir stalls with my sketch pad being filled with whatever caught my eye.

Today, my mind is filled with memories. Christmas morning in 1972 watching the procession on TV when one boy stepped on another’s foot knocking off his shoe and then recovering it quickly. Another time was of a boy prodding Dean Sayre, grandson of Woodrow Wilson whose remains are there in the crypts down below, when the Dean, in the opinion of the 11 year old choirboy, was holding up the column.

Later David loved Downieville and Sierra County. David died here in September and as I sorted out his possessions I found a publication of the Cathedral in which David appeared as he donned his cotta as an incoming member of the Choir of Men and Boys. We too loved our 17 years in Sierra County where the natural cathedrals are equally inspiring.

Now as I view the gathering of Biden and former presidents, Clinton, Obama, Bush and Trump, sitting there where David’s voice was heard leaving me in awe, I reflect that I did not meet the president, Richard Nixon but his brother Edward became an ongoing friend. I often played tennis on the one court on the south lawn of the White House with fellows with rather well known names, of course mostly deceased at this time.

But I’m struck by the legacy being portrayed of Carter, his values, his contribution and lifelong dedication to serving the people and what a sharp contrast it is to the loud vitriol of the current politicians. Hopefully this “gift” from the man there in front of the current crew will reach them as a strong message of values that deserve to be resurrected, to live on, to unite.

So here I am, at 88, filled with this flood of memories and sadness. Half my family is gone, husband and two sons, John in uniform for 26 years and Johnny a Marine at his death, and now David. This funeral reminds me of special times and special people and the one tennis court at the White House and similarly the one at Downieville.

I remain your servant, with love, Mary Johnsen