Having not been born during his presidency, whenever I think of Jimmy Carter, I think of his appearance in <i>Travels in Georgia</i> [1], a John McPhee essay that's mostly about following a couple of workers for the Georgia Natural Areas council as they travel through and collect information about Natural Areas in the early 1970s. Jimmy Carter, then-governor, pops up at the end to be taken in a canoe down a river that the couple of workers want protected. Having basically nobody around to impress, Carter is nonetheless affable, open, curious, and generally good-hearted. The piece ends at the governor's mansion, like this:<p><i>A ball sat on the pavement. Before going in, we shot baskets for a while. "The river is just great," the Governor said, laying one in. "And it ought to be kept the way it is. It's almost heartbreaking to feel that the river is in danger of destruction. I guess I'll write a letter to all the landowners and say, 'If you'll use some self-restraint, it'll decrease the amount of legal restraint put on you in the future.' I don't think people want to incur the permanent wrath of the governor or the legislature."</i><p><i>"I've tried to talk to property owners," Carol said. "To get them to register their land with the Natural Areas Council. But they wouldn't even talk to me."</i><p><i>The Governor said, "To be blunt about it, Carol, why would they?"</i><p><i>The Governor had the ball and was dribbling in place, as if contemplating a property owner in front of him, one-on-one. He went to the basket, shot, and missed. Carol got the rebound and fed the ball to Sam. He shot. He missed, too.</i><p>[1] <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1973/04/28/travels-in-georgia" rel="nofollow">https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1973/04/28/travels-in-geo...</a>