1976
Jimmy Carter was elected president in 1976, almost fifty years ago, which was also the year I graduated from high school and just before I found my new home in the game of ultimate. The late seventies represented a time when the world seemed at great risk tipping over into something terrible. A bit like now.
For me, 1976 represented my turning eighteen, a first election, legal drinking, and a pinkie toe’s dip into adulthood. We had a ton to think about, and all of it happening only a couple years after the draft whose numbers my older brother barely dodged. Carter gave us hope. He gave us truth, maybe a little too much of it. His presidency a bit of a blur as it coincided with first years out of the nest. His presidency represented a kind of transition from Nixon (ugh) to Reagan (you gotta be kidding me). Carter the calm in the stormy seas of inflation, nuclear threat and middle east tension. For the most part, none of this came to our Middletown CT campus and I instead obsessed on finding girlfriend and listening to Little Feat. To say I didn’t apply myself those four years would be accurate. When Carter’s time in the White House ended, I had secured a degree but not much else.
Much to my parents dismay, I headed to Boston not for work but to start a new team called The Rude Boys. Our arch rivals would be formed the same year and called themselves The Hostages. Their name in reference to the 52 people released on the last day Carter’s administration, a group of Americans held in captivity for over a year until after Reagan had firmly secured his election, which became the final nail in Carter’s desperate hope for reelection.
My Mom loved Jimmy Carter. “He believes in God,” she’d say. “And he’s honest.” This from a woman who loathed Nixon, but suffered having the same birthday as the man. To add to this, she’d grown up in Maryland, where Spiro Agnew had been governor, which meant she knew things would get ugly long before the rest of us did. Maybe a bit like now too.
Carter’s presidency eased me into politics, while ultimate eased me into the real world. He taught us how to be respectful. Ultimate taught me the consequences of my behavior. It never occurred to me that a B-level actor could win the presidency, so I didn’t see Reagan coming. Didn’t understand how elections worked. Didn’t understand that in politics, it’s not what you do that matters, but what you say and how you say it. Reagan said things people wanted to hear. Carter told the truth.
By the time I’d finally accrued enough credits to graduate in June of 1980, I’d found photography and ultimate as callings and headed north to Boston. And as momentous as 1976 had been for me, graduation and the end of 1980 proved calamitous with Reagan winning and John Lennon dying. I see these these events as seminal — a final shove out into the world.
“WTF!” what I could have screamed in response, except I had a new sport offering purpose and stability during the transition. The same way Jimmy Carter held my hand as I entered college, ultimate held on to me when I arrived in Boston. A community of young men and women playing and partying our way forward. The Rude Boy — Hostage rivalry of 1981 and 82 proved to be two of the most incredible years of my life. Epic battles with weekend tournaments occupying our racing minds and bodies, the two best teams in the country together in one city, either one capable of winning on any given day. That we had great women’s teams like BLU and the Spinsters to play alongside only increased the joy.
Memories flood back this week as I reflect on the life of an under appreciated man. Jimmy Carter’s passing reminds me of a different time, when I was very young and just learning how to live in the world. Jimmy set a high bar, but so did ultimate. Thank you Jimmy Carter for leading the way. Thank you ultimate for being the way.
