Every now and then, in this jaded world of politics, you run into someone who reminds you what things are supposed to be like.
They remind you that politics is, ultimately, supposed to be about serving others. Working as an elected lawmaker is supposed to be a higher calling—it’s supposed to be a job in which you take pride not in how many headlines you make, but in how many people in your town, your district, your county or your state you helped.
If you need that reminder, you should talk for a little while with Thomas Jackson.
The 77-year-old state representative from Thomasville has served House District 68 since 1994. Everyone in town knows him. People from all around—even in neighboring House districts and even folks in the other party—call him with their problems.
Jackson always picks up. Always hears them out. Always tries to help.
“I never dreamed of being in politics,” said Jackson, who has worked in public education and served as a minister. “But to think about it now, these years later, the people entrusted me back then (in 1994), and I’ve been there, been a voice for them. And you know, if you call me, I don’t ask whether they’re Democrats or Republicans. I try to help. This district is divided and they call me from the other district and, hey, I’m a voice. I’m trying to help people and that’s what I’ve been doing.”
Jackson is getting a lot of calls these days from folks who need help.
House District 68 has been hit harder than most by the economic downturn and pressure on cattle farmers. The local hospital closed in 2024 after several years of scraping by. That has left Thomasville residents traveling about 20 miles to Grove Hill for the nearest hospital. The closest hospital with a labor and delivery unit is more than an hour away in Selma.
President Donald Trump’s tariffs haven’t exactly been a friend to the folks in the district, either. Jackson said local farmers have struggled mightily with limited markets and fluctuating prices. Local cattle farmers have it even tougher, and Trump’s recent announcement that the U.S. would import 300,000 metric tons of foreign beef didn’t help matters.
Jackson has done as much as he can to help.
He has pushed for Medicaid expansion and help for rural hospitals, co-sponsoring several bills. He also serves on the House Agriculture and Forestry Committee, and last year he pushed through legislation he sponsored creating an agricultural investment program to help local farmers survive unexpected downturns.
Those investment programs have been the only reason some family farms still exist.
The crazy thing is that Jackson knows many of the people he has helped over the years aren’t voting for him. He’s a Democrat, after all, and self-identified conservatives can’t bring themselves to cross the aisle. Even for a man who crosses it without a second thought to help them.
“Never made any difference to me which party someone belongs to when they call and ask me for help or to tell me about their problem,” Jackson said during a recent interview on the Alabama Politics This Week podcast. “I’m there to work for all the people. That’s what I do.”
If that sounds too good to be true, or like some talking point a politician has pulled out of his pocket to endear himself to voters, you should learn a little more about Jackson. Because the Democrat-Republican aisle isn’t the biggest gap he has crossed to help people.
Jackson was born in the late 1940s. He grew up an hour from Selma and right smack dab in the middle of Jim Crow and the Civil Rights Movement.
“I think about growing up in this community as a kid, you know, and I grew up under Jim Crow—separate and unequal. So I’ve seen a lot of change. Now, I’m representing the children of some of those people that stood against us back in the (1960s).”
Think about that for a minute.
Some of the farms Jackson travels to, some of the calls he receives—they’re from the descendants of folks who fought like hell to keep Jackson and his family from having basic rights. They’re the family members of people who forced him, as Jackson joked, “to go in the back door.”
It seems impossible that Jackson doesn’t hold a grudge against them. That he doesn’t harbor some ill will.
But that’s just not who he is.
“We’ve been through a few things over the years,” Jackson said. “But we love one another. And that’s the greatest thing that I’ve seen that our nation has fallen away from—that is caring for one another. We’re so divisive, you know, and if you’re not in a billionaire club, you’re not a person that they care about.
“I believe in Matthew 25, taking care of the least of these, the vulnerable, you know, the misfortunate, those who have a tough time. That’s our mission. It’s to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, take care of the sick. Have places for them to lay their head. That’s what I’m about. The people. We have to love one another. That’s the greatest thing—love. It’s more powerful than hate. It will always win out. Love will always win.”
I’m telling you—you really should talk to Thomas Jackson sometime.
