DICK YARBROUGH: Remembering the influence of Betty Foy Sanders

I went to a memorial service this past Saturday at the Governor’s Mansion for former First Lady Betty Foy Sanders, who passed away on May 29th after 95 years of gracious living. She was, of course, the wife of my hero, Gov. Carl Sanders, the man who kept Georgia from turning into an Alabama or Mississippi during the civil rights struggles of the late ‘60’s.

As I mentioned in my column at the time of her passing, Ms. Sanders was an outstanding and prolific artist who took a shine to me because of my admiration for her husband (a trait we shared) and my antipathy for Jimmy Carter (another trait we shared.) Carter ran a vicious and racist campaign against Gov. Sanders, calling him a Hubert Humphrey liberal and vowing to invite Alabama Gov. George Wallace to speak in Atlanta as his guest, among other racial demagoguery.

Of course, when Carter was elected governor, he immediate became the liberal he accused Carl Sanders of being and never looked back and never apologized for his sleazy campaign. The man has no shame.

The memorial was a splendid affair, made even more so by having the opportunity to share a table with former Gov. Roy Barnes. I asked him what it felt like to be back in the place where he once lived. He said it was a nice place but that he didn’t miss the politics that go with getting there and staying there. Been there. Done that.

Much of Betty Sanders’ artwork was on display, reminding me of what a prolific artist she was. Unlike many – or most – artists, she didn’t specialize in one particular genre. She was always reinventing herself and experimenting with new and different ways of expressing her creativity.

She also took a great interest in my own efforts as a nascent artist. Talking art with Betty Sanders was like Gomer Pyle talking military strategy with Colin Powell. I would send her examples of my latest effort and she would tell me how good it was and how proud she was of my progress. Maybe she was just being nice, but I chose to believe every word she said. After all, this is Betty Sanders we are talking about.

That leads me to one of the pieces of material given to attendees at the memorial service, entitled “My Influence,” which included an impressive pen-and-ink self-portrait of the artist.

It goes like this: “My life shall touch a dozen lives before this day is done. Leave countless marks of good or ill, e’er sets the evening sun. The prayer I always pray; Lord, may my life help other lives, it touches by the way.”

Maybe I didn’t learn anything new from her musings, but I remembered something important. We influence others good or bad, whether we are aware of it or not. The Woman Who Shared My Name had a favorite saying: Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.

A personal example: When I got home from the memorial service, I had a phone call from a friend who is a graduate of the Grady College of Journalism and Mass Communications at the University of Georgia and who has had a successful career in the communications business. She wanted to give me a heads-up that she is about to endow a significant new program at the college which will be announced later in the year. Her reason for the call was to tell me that I had been an important influence in her life and had inspired her to share her success with others. It doesn’t get any better than that.

Betty Sanders had a major influence in my life and it seems I have been blessed to influence another life who is going to influence a new generation of young people through her generosity. Pass it on.

Maybe amid all the political stridency and social media rants, we need to pause and ask ourselves if we are influencing other lives that we touch along the way. Somehow, I think of the zealots who threatened the lives of Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger and his family and who broke into his daughter-in-law's home. Who influenced them and who, in turn, have they influenced? I probably don’t want to know the answer.

I often refer to “walking sermons.” What do we look like to other people when we don’t know they are looking at us? Do we walk our talk and by doing so, influence people in a positive way?

Betty Foy Sanders was a walking sermon. What you saw was what you got. There were a lot more important people at the Governor’s Mansion on Saturday than me. But one thing we all had in common. She influenced all of our lives along the way because she lived every word in her poem. She made a difference.