Everybody, it seems, has a Jim Hunt story.
“I remember when he called me about …”
“I’ll never forget the note he wrote saying …”
“He and Carolyn drove seven hours round-trip when I …”
“He filled up his plate, walked to my table and asked if he could join me. He sat down and said, ‘now, what are we going to do about ….’”
Beyond Governor Hunt’s public accomplishments, these private memories tell the full measure of the man.
I’ve read and heard dozens and dozens of stories – on social media, in emails, in texts and on phone calls.
They tell about a meeting with him, a chance encounter, a word of praise, a note of condolence, a call of encouragement – and the impact it had on them.
Like the woman who had an Obama sticker on her car and, the day after the 2008 election, heard the driver beside her honking the horn. She looked over and saw a grinning Hunt giving her a thumbs-up and a “raise the roof” motion.
Over his long and busy life, he almost certainly met more people, shook more hands and visited more places than any North Carolinian in history.
He genuinely liked people – and cared about them.
Whether you’d known him for years or just met him, he was interested in you, wanted to know about you, and wanted the best for you.
He celebrated your successes and shared your sorrows.
That’s what made him a great politician – in the best sense of the word.
He was an even better person.
He lifted people up.
And your stories lift us up now.
This photo of Governor Hunt and me shows his famous “Elbow Grip.” There was no escaping it.
