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From the Archives: Meeting President Carter
Posted February 18, 2025
Meeting President Carter
by Nina Bernstein Simmons
As printed in the 2012 Fall/Winter issue of Prelude, Fugue & Riffs
In February, 1979, when President Carter went on an official visit to Mexico to meet with President Lopez Portillo, my father went along as a cultural “gift.” He gave a concert with the Mexican National Symphony Orchestra which included a performance of Copland's El Salón México.
I was about to turn seventeen. My mother had died the previous June and, I realize now, Daddy must have been at a loss for what to do about my birthday, what with his being away from New York. So he got the inspired idea of getting me invited to Mexico as part of the whole U.S. entourage. Not traveling there on a commercial plane with him, you understand, but ON AIR FORCE ONE. I comported myself as best I could. I sat next to Cy Vance. They served lobster Thermidor. Or was it Newberg?
On the evening of the concert, as we were dressing at the hotel, Daddy asked what I was going to do with my hair. Good question. My mother wasn't there to see to it that I looked ready to attend an elegant evening concluded by a state dinner at the U.S. embassy. I declined to put my hair in a bun, which is what Daddy wanted, and went with the 1979 default: brushed out hippie.
The concert was wonderful and spirits were high, especially Daddy's. At the dinner, we were seated at a big table with both presidents, their first ladies, and two sets of ambassadors. Daddy engaged President Portillo in singing many a Mexican folksong, including a dirty version of Rancho Grande. Me, I just wanted to get away with as little attention as possible.
And then Daddy interrupted everyone's conversation to say: “Look at Nina. Isn't she lovely? She reminds me so much of her late mother. She has her neck. But I wish she would wear hair up so everyone could see. Nina, show them what you look like with your hair up. Go on!”
I glared. But it was no use. I had to do it and I did. Polite applause and murmurs of admiration from everyone.
There is a Spanish expression: “Tierra, tragame.” Literally: “Earth, swallow me.”
Finally, it was time to leave. There was a queue where President Carter stood to say goodbye to the departing guests. This picture was taken just after he said, “Nina,” (he pronounced it Ninnah) “I like you with your hair up. I like you with your hair down. I like you.”
Even the birthday cake presented to me by Rosalynn on the return flight could not top that.