Common Ground: Remembering Carter, Discovering Ford
By Judy Wiseman, Development and Outreach Coordinator for WIN
I still remember standing on a Habitat for Humanity site years ago, camera in hand, waiting for a glimpse of President Jimmy Carter. I was a bright-eyed advocate then, serving as the managing director of the James C. Penney Family Foundation—full of energy, faith, and a belief that good people in public life could make a real difference.
When Carter arrived, humble and smiling, sleeves rolled up and hammer ready, I saw leadership made human. It wasn’t about power or politics; it was about service. Somewhere in my old papers, there’s a photo from that day—me smiling beside him. That image, nestled among files about some of the harshest issues facing families in the Northeast and Appalachia, captured a moment of giddy potential. It reminded me that real leaders share a moral center, and that
American strength lies in our unique capacity for decency.
That same feeling of quiet, giddy potential came rushing back to me recently, from a very different place.
Two years ago, my dear friend and colleague, Darren McDaniel, told me he had begun writing a musical about the 38th President of the United States: Gerald R. Ford. The spark had come during a serendipitous stop at the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Museum in Grand Rapids, a road-trip detour with a long-time college friend. In that museum—where history, architecture, and memory all lean in at once—Darren saw a story about a man too-simply dismissed as “remarkably unremarkable” and began to imagine a musical that would explore the fullness of
his life.
At first glance, Ford seems different from Carter. But as I learned more, I realized they shared the same DNA of integrity. Ford led at a time when America was deeply divided. He stepped into office not by ambition, but by necessity, and chose to heal the nation after Watergate threw the country into chaos. He chose reconciliation over vengeance, decency over drama. His eventual friendship with Carter—after their bitter 1976 campaign—is one of the great, quiet stories of American civility.
The more I learned about WIN: An AmericanAmusical, the more I knew
I wanted to be a part of it. Beyond just factual, it is wonderfully nuanced, often humorous–even droll and occasionally ironic. It is light, it is heavy, and it is honest.
Today, I serve as WIN's Development Coordinator. For me, this show isn’t just revisiting history; it soothes a disquiet that had been growing inside me. It rekindles a conversation we desperately need today. A conversation about humanness, forgiveness, and the courage to put the Constitution and the common good first.
As we moved into development, it became clear that WIN is a unique vehicle for civic conversation. After some of our early readings, I was asked to interview audience members about their reactions. Time and time again, within the first few minutes, people told me—with a little surprise and a lot of conviction—that they were struck by Ford’s quiet impressiveness. They saw a moral leader and, most of all, a very decent human being.
That was the moment I knew WIN could be more than just a show. It can be a catalyst—a way to invite people into a deeper, kinder conversation about leadership, responsibility, reconciliation and how we steady one another in turbulent times. I never did find that old photograph of President Carter and my 28-year-old self. But I’ve found something better: a renewed faith in what leadership can look like. By remembering Carter and discovering Ford through this musical, I am reminded of a time when America’s presidents didn’t just serve us—they steadied and strengthened us.
That’s a story worth singing.
And if it resonates with you, I hope you’ll follow WIN’s journey and help us to turn art into action and advocacy in a meaningful way.