Washington, DC, is a city of moments.
Over the past 12 years, I’ve been fortunate to witness moments that transcend politics and speak to the better angels of our nation.
Yet standing in line on a bitterly cold January evening to pay my respects to President Jimmy Carter, lying in state at the U.S. Capitol Rotunda, was among the most profound.
As the workday wound down, I found myself drawn to the uniquely American ritual of honoring our leaders. I left my office just after 5, walking briskly toward the Capitol, navigating around barricades already set up for the upcoming inauguration. When I reached the back of the line, it stretched far beyond what I had imagined.
It was 20 degrees, and I’d forgotten my warm, winter hat. As I pulled up the hood of my leather jacket, I thought: “If Jimmy Carter could live for more than a century and dedicate his life to others, I can stand in the freezing cold a little while to pay tribute.”
So I waited, and a smile never left my face.
The line was a microcosm of America. Young professionals just starting their careers mingled with older citizens in wheelchairs or leaning on canes. People struck up conversations with strangers, bonding over shared admiration for the man we were there to honor.
Some spoke of Carter’s visionary presidency and his focus on human rights. Others celebrated his vast post-presidential achievements—building more than 4,000 homes with Habitat for Humanity, or serving as a peacemaker in some of the world’s most intractable conflicts.
In a time of division, it was remarkable to see people of all races, backgrounds and creeds united in this act of remembrance. Capitol Police officers kept the line moving, ensuring order and offering encouragement. “Thank you for being here,” I told several, deeply aware of the sacrifices they make to keep moments like this safe.
After three hours in the cold and another hour inside, I finally reached the Capitol Rotunda. The atmosphere shifted as I stepped into that hallowed space. The noise and chatter of the line disappeared, replaced by a reverent silence.
In an age of distraction and self-focus, where so much of life is captured through a lens, no one took pictures. Instead, we stood quietly, reflecting on a life of service.
I thought about Carter’s military service, his presidency and the remarkable way he used his post-presidential years—not for personal gain, but to lift others up. As a fellow lifelong Atlanta Braves fan, I thought back to my childhood in Chattanooga, Tennessee. My dad, brother, and I would make the drive to Atlanta for a couple games a year. President Carter and his wife, Rosalynn, often appeared on the stadium’s “Kiss Cam,” their smiles lighting up the Jumbotron.
I also remembered visiting the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library and Museum in Atlanta on his 99th birthday. Walking those halls, I felt the same reverence that I did in the Rotunda—a reminder of the humility and vision of a man who spent a century giving far more than he took.
Young military service members stood guard over the president’s casket, held in place by the same platform as that which bore Presidents Lincoln and Kennedy. Watching the changing of the guard, I was reminded of the quiet might of our nation. The solemn precision of the military honor guards was a fitting tribute to a Navy veteran who valued humility and duty.
When I finally stepped back outside, the cold air hit my face, but my heart felt warm. In those hours of waiting, I had witnessed a rare thing: a moment that cut through our differences and brought everybody together.
President Carter often spoke of the importance of hope and humanity. On that cold night, surrounded by my fellow Americans who braved the elements to honor him, I felt both of those things.
In this city of moments, it was a moment I’ll never forget.
