A Remarkable Mother by Jimmy Carter; Simon and Schuster; 223 pages; $22.95.

In this book, former President Jimmy Carter pays tribute to his mother, born Bessie Lillian Gordy but known to those who remember the 1970s as "Miss Lillian." She was described in news reports as "third cousin of U.S. Sens. Jesse Helms and Sam Nunn, fourth cousin of Elvis Presley and mother of President Jimmy Carter." Wryly, the former president recalls that as children he and his siblings thought this diverse heritage partially explained her interest in politics and showmanship, but not some of her other idiosyncrasies.

Cox News Service file photo (ENLARGE)

Rosalynn Carter, left, and Lillian Carter, right, pin ensign insignia on Jimmy Carter as the future president is commissioned in 1946 at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md.

In the first chapter, Jimmy Carter gives an affectionate and sometimes risible account of the lives of Miss Lillian's antecedents. "For instance, Papa was quite a dandy when he was young. He was engaged to another woman before he even met my mother ... but when the time came he got on a train and disappeared, leaving his bride at the altar. He stayed away about three months, then came back and started courting Mama. ... Mama was really feisty. She told him she wasn't going to even dress for the ceremony until she knew he was standing by and ready. She sat in a chair in the preacher's house, with her wedding dress on the bed, until Papa arrived at the church next door and the preacher came over and certified that he was there."

Miss Lillian's feisty genes were certainly handed down. Better-educated than most other women in the pre-World War I era, she was determined to pursue a medical career. Patriotic, at age 19 she signed up to be an Army nurse; however, the armistice was signed the day she received her letter of acceptance. Everyone in the region knew about the fine Wise Sanitarium in Plains, Ga., which included an active training program for medical interns and registered nurses, so Miss Lillian applied and was accepted. That meant a career, but at 22, her mother and sisters said, "Lily, you don't want to be an old maid."

Jimmy's mother later told the children that she had not been averse to combining marriage with her new career. She also told a newspaper reporter how strict her mother was: "Until I was twenty-one, I never even got into a car or buggy if there was a boy in it. I always had a chaperone." She winked. "I learned everything I know from that chaperone."

Writes Jimmy Carter: "One of our favorite shared pastimes as children was to have Mama tell us about the days before we were born. ... The routine, which both mama and we enjoyed, would begin with our chanting, 'Tell us a story!'"

The first few chapters of the work recount the early years of the Carter family's rural life, and the work young Jimmy was expected to do alongside others of both races. The Carters were one of the few families to have a telephone; a three-party line, of course. Eventually the house did have running water.

Much of the book is a record of just how truly remarkable Miss Lillian was. One example: There's the record of her climbing the rickety ladder of the Plains water tower to talk down a black child who was going to commit suicide. Another: As the indefatigable sole health care provider in the rural areas, she treated both white and black patients equally. She also loved all sports, and attended wrestling once a week. During the Great Depression, the family's gate was secretly marked by hobos as a source of a meal and comfort. She also represented her son at state and international functions with aplomb, as when in high heels she skidded across a waxed floor in the presence of Pope John Paul II, recovered her dignity and said, "Holy Father, I made this dramatic entrance just for you."

There is a lot of dry humor, along with great tenderness throughout the book. Carter writes that when he told his mother he planned to run for president, startled she asked "president of what?" But she became a serious campaigner.

Jimmy Carter was born in Plains and served as 39th president of the United States. He is the author of numerous nonfiction books, including the No. 1 New York Times best seller, "Our Endangered Values."

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An Excerpt

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We drove Mama to Atlanta on September 10, 1966, leaving her house in Plains unlocked for the duration of her absence, so all the family could use it as needed. She took a plane to Chicago, where she spent three months at the University of Chicago for preliminary language training and for psychiatric and other tests to assure that she was qualified for two years of strenuous duty at a not-yet-disclosed place in India. Her diary shows that she was desperately afraid of being "deselected" because of her excessive eagerness to please everyone, her increasingly revealed lack of competence in learning the assigned Marathi dialect and especially her age.

One of her first crises was bumping her leg on a chair in her hotel room and then falling down. She didn't dare tell anyone, but her knee swelled so much that she was unable to walk. Instead of claiming illness, she called and volunteered to do typing rather than hand out birth control pamphlets on the Chicago streets.

"They asked me if I could type, and I said 'yes.' After they brought a typewriter and a lot of envelopes and addresses to my room, I locked the door and looked at the typewriter – then I looked out the window to see how far it was to the ground. (I didn't want to mess myself up too bad if I decided to jump.) I finally figured out how to put the paper in, and after fooling with it thirty minutes, mashed the right button to make a capital letter. It took me more time to find that long thing on the bottom that made the space between words. It took me all day to address forty envelopes, and I'm afraid they'll think I did such a good job they might ask me to do this every time. Lord, won't I ever learn to say 'No'?"

The psychiatrist came to join the group twice a week and seemed to take a special interest in Mama. He persisted in asking her to explain why a well-off Southern widow, whose son was a state senator and running for governor, was volunteering to serve dark-skinned people in the stifling Indian heat. Her medical files subsequently revealed that he concluded she was exorcising her demons of white guilt over Southern race relations.

Mama survived all her early tests, and in mid-December, she and thirty-six other volunteers flew to New Delhi, with stops in Atlanta, London, Rome, and Beirut – where, she wrote, "Intrigue, etc. filled the air."