Jody Powell's Passing

Jody Powell passed on today. A shock, as most deaths are, anticipated or not. He wasn't the first member of Jimmy Carter's early gubernatorial campaign staff to go. Hamilton Jordan fell to cancer a year ago. Since I haven't been in touch in a very long time, it is likely others are no longer with us.

Jody hired me to work as a staffer in Jimmy Carter's gubernatorial campaign in l970.

I loved Jody. I loved Hamilton. I loved Jimmy. I loved them all.  Although Jody was only six years older than me, he seemed more like a parent than even a brother. Jody, because he was the press guy, was more aware, more conscious of appearances. Appearances in those days included things like wearing a short skirt or drinking those free Coca Cola's at your desk. Although once I did refer to Jimmy Carter as peanut in a memo, which got me a reprimand for bad appearance.  I was only 20. I hadn't devoted a single thought to appearance other than the newest way to straighten my hair.

I wasn't even certain who Jimmy Carter was when I decided to volunteer for his gubernatorial campaign. I was out to impress a boy and his parents, who mentioned Carter at a Sunday dinner.  Turned out  the Carter campaign office was near my summer job, so I stopped by on the way home from work.

Mag card machines were the latest technology in l970. Jody and Hamilton were relaxing with their feet on the front desks when I walked in. They were expecting me, and set me up in a closet with that mag card machine. My assignment was to personalize Dear Friend letters from a list. They showed me a signature, which I was to imitate if I had time. I got started right away. Eager to do a good job, I lost track of time, signing and personalizing letters until about ll:00, hours later - with no breaks.

When I did emerge from the closet, Jody and Hamilton were again sitting with their feet propped up. Jody (or was it Hamilton?) had forgotten my name. Just who are you? How old are you? Where do you live? Are you registered to vote?

I wasn't even registered to vote, although Vietnam had forced legislators in Georgia to lower the voting age to l8.

Another staff member, Bill Lynch, volunteered to give me a ride home. Bill had worked for Robert Kennedy, a Yankee. He seemed to be the boss, so when he offered me a job for $250.00 a month, I said yes without hesitating. I was a gofer. I signed thousands of letters for Jimmy Carter, specializing in prisoner correspondence. My mother thought I joined a cult.

Jody was actually Jimmy's driver during the campaign. He worked the longest hours. The rest of us worked 12 and l4 hour days, seven days a week.

When Jimmy won, Jody became the Press Secretary. I worked for Hamilton, in a different part of the Governor's office. Of course, working like we all did, we all knew each other. And everything about each other. Except, much later I realized I didn't actually know anything. But at 20, you think you know everything.

Those days were so innocent. Working with Jimmy was like being on a mission, and we all believed it was important. We all sacrificed, especially Jody. We were all devoted to Jimmy Carter. Change was real, and Jimmy Carter was too. There were scandals. Legislators flirted with us all day and sometimes invited us to parties in the old Georgian Hotel. Jody was monitoring it all. I'm certain someone was having sex, but from my perspective, it was just the married people and people over 40.

I had another boyfriend (under 40) once we got into the Governor's office. He occupied most of my time. Occasionally we'd have a party at a little cottage I rented in Peachtree Hills. Once a famous reporter begged me to stash his marijuana plants, to which I foolishly agreed. Jody saw these plants and scolded me for having them around. I was mortified, and had my reporter friend remove them immediately.

My ultimate mortification came later. I left the Governor's office, after three years. The boyfriend wasn't the marrying kind, and I had it vaguely in my mind that I should find a husband somewhere. The Haight Ashbury days were winding down. San Francisco was the most exotic place I could imagine, so I set off to have an adventure.

Jody and Hamilton visited me a couple of times in San Francisco once the Presidential campaign got underway. I met movie stars in Beverly Hills, and even went to the California Democratic Convention, where I met and argued with Jack Germond.

Jack couldn't believe I thought the Kennedy's escapades reflected on their character. Those were the days! Jody didn't like my being so opinionated with Jack, since after all, I was just Jan, and Jack was a respected member of the press.

My ultimate mortification? Studio 54. My career progressed. Bob Guccione hired me as Pet Promotions Director for Penthouse Magazine. In that capacity, I chaperoned models at public appearances. Which is how I became a regular at Studio 54. One particular evening Hamilton and other staffers asked me to get them in. I was delighted. It was fun. None of us could have anticipated what came next.

The rest is history. In case you are wondering, no they did not do drugs. The first Special Prosecutor after Watergate, Arthur Christie, was appointed to investigate. I heard from friends that everyone thought I could have stopped the investigation by simply agreeing to an early request by the FBI for an interview. I'd been working in New York long enough to know I needed an attorney, who naturally did not allow me to speak with anyone until he was with me.

My refusal and use of a personal attorney were seen as selfish. I only spoke with Jody once after that, and I knew somehow I was held responsible for the Studio 54 scandal.

All was good, despite what seemed like Sturm und Drang at the time.  My career kept advancing even without influential friends. When I ran for public office myself in Denver, the media was skeptical that I worked for Jimmy Carter. How could a nobody Election Commissioner candidate have known a President?  Sometimes I put it on my resume, sometimes I left it off. Most employers assumed I was just a volunteer. They didn't believe I really worked for him or knew anyone connected to Jimmy Carter. If I had known him, why didn't I take advantage of it?

And, I became a Republican, which may have been the icing on the cake for my old Carter friends, especially Jody. There is a scene in one of the old Vietnam movies, where the American attache meets up with his translator decades later. He cries and asks forgiveness, and the translator looks genuinely puzzled. What is there to forgive, he asked? I understand.  My politics seem like a betrayal, as did my refusal to cooperate with the FBI.

There was something so big, so profound and so transcending about knowing Jody and everyone who worked with Jimmy in that campaign. They became Jungian archetypes in my mind. My life changed direction, had more meaning and purpose.  What ever came after that did not corrupt it. Not even being a Republican.

They will all live in my heart and my mind forever. Especially you, Jody.