WASHINGTON – First came the public pageantry of the final hours of the winter day: a horse-drawn caisson containing the flag-draped coffin, dignitaries with bowed heads, the snow-muffled echo of the precise footsteps of a military guard of honor.
But then, as night fell over the nation's capital on Tuesday, the quieter tributes came: Ordinary people – first in the hundreds, then in the thousands – gathered in the bitter cold outside the U.S. Capitol to honor Jimmy Carter, the 39th American , to pay final respects to President, who died on December 29 at the age of 100.
There were elders leaning on sticks in the slushy snow, children bundled up so that their arms were sticking almost straight out of their sides, teenagers bouncing on their heels, both out of pure energy and an attempt to keep warm to keep.
Lottie Sneed, 73, was among the first in line, lining up in front of black wire mesh barriers before public viewing hours began at 7 p.m. As civil rights hero Rosa Parks lay in honor in the Capitol Rotunda in 2005, the Maryland woman waited all night to walk past her casket.
She's glad she doesn't have to do that this time, she said, but the underlying sentiment is largely the same: a sign of respect.
“You leave a footprint for your life’s work,” she said. “You can’t always thank the people of that time for their sacrifices, but you can do something to show that you saw it and noticed it.”
It was midnight when 17-year-old high school student Josephine Flannery-Goodman approached the front of the line in the sprawling, statue-filled Emancipation Hall below the Rotunda, which was thankfully still taking place indoors at the time.
She and her father, architect David Goodman, came to the public viewing almost spontaneously, putting on their coats in the middle of the night and driving across the river from Arlington, Virginia. Josephine was excited to experience a bit of history, she said.
For her 57-year-old father, the occasion was filled with foreboding, as a new president would soon take office. He recalled his childhood days, when Carter's modest presidency gave way to a more bombastic national mood under his successor, Ronald Reagan.
“After that,” Goodman said, “I always felt like we were a completely different country.”
For many, the peaceful communal ritual of arriving at the coffin's resting place in the Rotunda offered a respite, if only for a few moments, from the anxiety of a complicated national moment or the hustle and bustle of everyday worries – or both.
Before entering the flight chamber, people were asked to mute their devices and refrain from taking photos. Chatter stopped on its own. The spectators involuntarily folded their hands.
Inside, an ethereal silence replaced the ringing and buzzing of text messages and news reports. The only sound was the steady sound of shoes and snow boots on the marble floor. The military members of the Honor Guard stood motionless. Children looked to the sky.
Unlike many other events of this kind, people were allowed to move at a leisurely pace, streaming in concentric circles around the coffin, which stood on the same catafalque where Abraham Lincoln's body was placed in 1865.
Almost everyone paused, some stood still for a long time. Some moved their lips as if they were praying. Almost everyone looked pained and thoughtful.
“By waiting beforehand and then inside, we had a lot of time to think about why we were here,” said Elizabeth Wason, 40, of Washington, leaning calmly against a pillar after coming out. “It’s a really hectic world. It gave me time to just stand there and think.”
Ushers in red jackets thanked everyone for coming. It sounded like they were serious.
Outside the darkness was getting darker. The temperatures – already a cool 25 degrees at the start of the evening visit – dropped by one degree, then by two. Occasionally there would be a biting wind with the flags flying at half-staff. People stamped their feet, put their hands in their armpits and wrapped their faces.
Here and there a bright splash of color against the dark sky: a fuchsia headscarf, a down coat with rainbow stripes.
Long conversations drew strangers side by side. People talked about books and movies, snowfall statistics and recipes. But they also talked about the harrowing transition between political eras and the comfort of a long and honorable second act like Carter's.
“One thing I keep thinking about is that he was an honest person,” said Neel Patel, 36, of New Jersey, who trained to be a pharmacist. “A person who did his best not to lie.”
As it grew late, the moon rose in a hazy halo over the Capitol dome, reflected in a pure, uninterrupted slope of snow. Everyone pulled out their cell phones to take a photo.
Most people said they were glad they made the effort. Retired teacher Sally Goss lives in Ellicott City, Maryland – an hour's drive from Washington in good condition, longer on wintry roads. But she and her husband, Tom, a retired lawyer, decided months ago that they would make the trip when the time came.
“As a young woman, I was very proud as a Southerner when he was elected,” said Goss, 70, who grew up on a family farm in North Carolina. “I respected him so much as a person.”
As president from 1977 to 1981, Carter was a self-described outsider in Washington who sometimes chafed at the capital's stuffy nature. He famously banned the playing of “Hail to the Chief” for a while.
Over time, his four decades as president, marked by humanitarian efforts, won the admiration of many Americans. Randy Moffett, 61, a retired college professor who was a transplant to Washington from Carter's native Georgia, gathered a seven-member group of family and friends to personally pay their respects to the late president.
“The way he decided to make a lot of money after his presidency — he was just an exemplary public servant,” Moffett said. “It’s really something admirable.”
Aware of his place in history, Carter's family attended numerous public tributes – including the elaborately choreographed arrival of his casket at the Capitol and Thursday's state funeral at the National Cathedral with diplomats, dignitaries and former presidents in attendance.
But first there was a whole day when everyone could come to the Rotunda. Early Wednesday morning, before the cold sky had fully cleared, the line formed again.