President Jimmy Carter (1924-2024)

President James Earl “Jimmy” Carter, Jr. died today (December 29, 2024). He was the first of the modern presidents to run—and be elected—as an “outsider” (not part of the Washington, DC, political establishment, though he had served four years in the Georgia State Senate, and was governor of that state from 1971 to 1975). He defeated President Gerald Ford in the surprisingly close election of 1976 (after Ford’s pardon of President Richard Nixon, his defeat was all but assured). Carter was an engineer who tried to bring an engineer’s sensibilities to the Oval Office. Unfortunately for his presidency, that skill set could not overcome other external political factors, leading to his landslide defeat after only one term in the White House. His post-presidency, however, was far more impressive, and will leave a much stronger, more enduring legacy. From the Carter Center to his work with Habitat for Humanity, he was the ideal former president. The Carter Center, with its goal to advance human rights and alleviate human suffering, is best known for its international election monitoring, but also works to build democratic institutions, help mediate conflicts, advocate for human rights, and treat diseases.

As president, in 1978, Carter brokered the Camp David Peace Accords between Israel and Egypt, for which Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin and Egyptian President Anwar Sadat shared the Nobel Peace Prize. Carter’s own Nobel Prize was awarded in 2002, for his work “to find peaceful solutions to international conflicts, to advance democracy and human rights, and to promote economic and social development” through the Carter Center.

Carter was born in Plains, Georgia, on October 1, 1924. He graduated from the Naval Academy in 1946 (part of the accelerated class of 1947)—the only president to do so, although he was the fifth straight Navy veteran to serve as president. He met his future wife, Eleanor Rosalynn Smith, while he was a cadet. They married on July 7, 1946. Carter retired from active duty in 1953, to take over the family’s peanut farming business, though he was in the inactive Navy Reserve until 1961. He left the service with the rank of lieutenant.

After losing his re-election bid, Carter told the White House press corps he intended to emulate Harry Truman, and not use his presidential retirement to enrich himself. He continued to live in the same modest house in Plains, Georgia, until his death. During his retirement, he wrote more than 30 books, ranging from memoirs to children’s books.

Carter’s state funeral will be in Washington, DC, with details announced in the next few days. He will be buried at his home in Plains. Carter is survived by his four children, 11 grandchildren (one grandson pre-deceased him), and 14 great-grandchildren. His eldest son, Jack, lost the 2006 Senate race in Nevada. Jack’s son Jason served in the Georgia State Senate, and lost the 2014 race for Governor of Georgia.

Carter retired from the presidency on January 20, 1981, at the relatively young age of 56. He was younger than his two successors (Ronald Reagan was 13 years older than Carter; George H.W. Bush was born 111 days before Carter).

Carter had been the senior living president since Gerald Ford’s death December 26, 2006. That title now belongs to Bill Clinton, who was president from 1993 to 2001.

On September 7, 2012, Carter exceeded Herbert Hoover’s record as the longest-retired president: that mark now stands at 43 years 343 days. Clinton will surpass that record in 2042, at the age of 96.

On March 22, 2019, Carter surpassed George H.W. Bush’s mark as the longest-lived president (Bush had died 111 days earlier, at the age of 94 years 171 days). That record now stands at 100 years 89 days. The oldest living president is now Joe Biden, who was born on November 20, 1942. The longest-lived vice president, John Nance Garner (1933–41), died at the age of 98 years 350 days old on November 7, 1967.

Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter enjoyed the longest marriage of any presidential couple, from July 7, 1946, until her death on November 19, 2023: an astonishing 77 years 135 days. The previous record-holders, George H.W. and Barbara Bush, were married from January 6, 1945 until her death on April 17, 2018: 73 years 101 days. The current longest-married presidential couple are Bill and Hillary Clinton, who were married on October 11, 1975.

Following Carter’s death, there are now five living presidents: Bill Clinton (1993–2001), George W. Bush (2001–09), Barack Obama (2009–17), Donald Trump (2017–21), and Joe Biden (2021– ).

Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter in 2016.

Barry N. Malzberg (1939-2024)

Late last night, I learned that Barry N. Malzberg had died. Born July 24, 1939, he was a writer and editor. His daughter, Erika, wrote: “My dad passed away this evening, around 4:30pm. My sister had been with him for a few hours and I was just getting back after having visited with my mother. He took his last breath almost the moment I arrived. It was very, very peaceful and we are so grateful.”

His fiction was ground-breaking and seemingly everywhere moments after he started publishing (his first science fiction story, “We’re Coming Through the Window,” was published in the August 1967 issue of Galaxy), but I’ll probably remember him more for his non-fiction: his essays on science fiction, literature, and the people in the field, which was his stock-in-trade for the last couple of decades.

I remember Barry as a fixture at the science fiction conventions I attended when I first got into the field, but I never really got to know him: there were too many bright and shiny new things and people clamoring for my attention for me to seek out the austere, somewhat foreboding looking fellow he was. Now, reading the reminiscences of so many of my friends, I’m realizing just how much I missed out by not getting to know him better. Rather than trying to recapitulate them, I commend to you posts on Facebook by John Kessel (https://www.facebook.com/john.kessel3), Adam-Troy Castro (https://www.facebook.com/adamtroycastro), and Kristine Kathryn Rusch (https://www.facebook.com/kristinekathrynrusch). I’m sure there will be more in the coming days.

He was nominated for a dozen Hugo and Nebula Awards, and his novel Beyond Apollo won the inaugural John W. Campbell Memorial Award in 1973. His nonfiction works won two Locus Awards: The Engines of the Night (1983), and Breakfast in the Ruins: Science Fiction in the Last Millennium (2008), and I was pleased and honored to publish his third volume, The Bend at the End of the Road (2018).

T. Jackson King (1948-2024)

I’ve just learned of the death of Thomas King, Jr., who wrote as several dozen books as T. Jackson King, on December 3, at the age of 76. In his last post on Facebook, dated November 24, he wrote:

Sorry for the delay on AI SURVIVAL [his planned next novel]. 2024 has been traumatic for me. Wife divorced me. Coping with Diabetes and Asthma. Now diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure! Still hanging in there. Planning to write on the novel come Jan. 1, 2025. Thanks for being loyal readers! Tom. FYI, Readers can contact me via email. Or visit my Facebook page for T. Jackson King. Tom.

His YA novel, Little Brother’s World, was one of the first original books I accepted for Fantastic Books. In 2014, we launched his novel The Memory Singer at Balticon, which is when I met him in real life (whence the attached picture; apparently I didn’t get a picture of the two of us together). I think that convention was the only time we were physically in the same space together, but he seemed to relish life, taking great joy from whatever he was doing. And his tales of his life beyond the walls of the convention hotel seemed to reflect that, too.

He was much more than just a science fiction writer, but it’s probably easiest to let him tell that story (this is his biography from his web site, https://www.tjacksonking.com/):

T. Jackson King (Tom) is a professional archaeologist and journalist. He writes hard science fiction, anthropological sci-fi, dark fantasy/horror and contemporary fantasy/magic realism—but that didn’t happen until he was 38.

Before then, college years spent in Paris and in Tokyo led Tom into antiwar activism, hanging out with some Japanese hippies and learning how often governments lie to their citizens. The latter lesson led him and a college buddy to publish the Shinjuku Sutra English language underground tabloid in Japan in 1967. That was followed by helping shut down the University of Tennessee at Knoxville campus in 1968 and a bus trip to Washington, D.C., for the Second March on Washington where thousands demanded an end to the Vietnam War.

Temporary sanity returned when Tom worked in a radiocarbon lab at UC Riverside and earned an MA degree in Archaeology from UCLA. His interests in ancient history, ancient cultures and journalism got him several government agency jobs that paid the bills, led him to roam the raw landscape of the Western United States, and helped him and his wife Leslee raise three kids.

A funny thing happened on the way to normality. By the time he was 38 and doing federal arky work in Colorado, Tom’s first novel Star Traders was a stage play in his head that wouldn’t go away. So he wrote it down. It got rejected. His next novel was published as Retread Shop (Warner Books, 1988). It was off to the writing races and Tom’s many voyages of imaginative discovery have led to 24 published novels, a book of poetry, and a conviction that when Humans reach the stars, we will find them crowded with space-going Aliens. We will be the New Kids On The Block! This theme appears in much of Tom’s short fiction and novel writing.

Tom lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA and hangs with a group of smart and tolerant Westerners. Divorce has taught him to smile a lot and to work at being a Nice Guy. Still, he is pretty weird. Has been since fourth grade when he began reading sci-fi. Since then, he and Authority have rarely been in agreement.

Jessica Young, my friend from Mensa

jessicayoung1995I’ve just learned of the death of Jessica Young, on November 23. I knew it was coming for a long time, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Last February, she emailed to tell me she had inoperable pancreatic cancer (the same thing that killed my grandmother two decades ago), and that she’d just been through a year of chemotherapy and high intensity radiation treatment. So I spent the last year sending her chatty emails every month or so, just to let her know I was thinking of her, and because I really was thinking of her.

jessicaandian2014I first met her at the Mensa Annual Gathering in St. Louis in 1995, where she took me to the Gateway Arch. We ran into each other again a few years later, at the AG in Philadelphia in 2000, which cemented our friendship. After that, we saw each other intermittently, at Annual Gatherings. With the coming of smart phones, we communicated more often, sharing fireworks photos when we weren’t at Independence Day celebrations together. We saw each other only rarely, but every time, it was just picking up where we’d left off the last time, one long friendship.

ianjessica2016Only once did we see each other outside of Mensa: In February 2016, her chorus sang at Carnegie Hall, and she was in New York for nearly a week. I got to see her most of the days she was in town, showing her around my home town, enjoying her concert, seeing a Broadway show, just hanging out, as good friends do.

She hadn’t responded to my most recent emails, and I knew the end was near. But a few days ago—at my sister’s house for Thanksgiving—I wondered that I hadn’t heard anything from her. After getting home tonight, I did a web search for “Jessica Young obituary,” and found it: she really is gone. https://www.kutisfuneralhomes.com/young-jessica-c/

Jessica Cerridwyn Young was a member of St. Louis Area Mensa. She is survived many family members and friends, all of whom, I’m sure, saw her far more often than I, and were far closer to her than I, and thus will miss her even more. But she was a very dear Mensa friend to me, and the excitement of next year’s AG will be tempered with the melancholy of knowing she won’t be there.