Carolyn Justus never intended to get into politics. But in late 2002, after nine consecutive terms, her husband, State Representative Larry Justus, died just days before his re-election bid. Fellow Republicans chose Mrs. Justus—who had been working as his clerk for 18 years—to replace him, and she has represented the 117th District, covering Henderson County, ever since.

“I was totally lost when he died,” she says. “We had done everything together, then all of a sudden, he was gone.” Justus says she knew how to run her husband’s office and keep in touch with constituents. But she admits knowing little of “working the floor” of the House of Representatives.

She learned quickly. So far, she’s championed mental-health programs, expanded women’s services and pushed for better care for the elderly. She backed building-height limits in Hendersonville (64 feet) and a controversial law requiring juveniles’ names and photos to be made public if they escaped detention (a few years ago, three teenage boys broke out of a Buncombe County facility; the news was kept mum, and the teens committed several crimes before being apprehended). She supported a budget amendment that prevents the Department of Corrections from temporarily housing recently-released inmates—particularly sex offenders—in nursing homes, assisted-living facilities, group homes and hotels. She also introduced legislation that mandates stiffer punishments for people who vandalize or desecrate gravestones in Henderson County.  

The 63-year-old Brevard native collects stuffed elephants and mugs with faces on them, and she loves to tell stories about her four grandchildren. On a recent return from the legislative session in Raleigh, Justus sat down with VERVE to chat about her life, her views and being a widow.

What was the biggest challenge when you went from serving as a clerk to working the floor of the General Assembly as a state representative? I am a very shy person. I really am. Larry used to say to me, “You don’t have to ask questions all the time.” If you have a question, somebody’s going to ask it, so I don’t talk on the floor very much, unless it’s very important. The people who talk all the time nobody listens to.

You’ve also said that, at a time of heavy grief, being appointed to the state House of Representatives helped you get through it. You need to stay busy, and serving in Raleigh did keep me busy. You can only rely on your children so much. There was so much coverage around me when Larry died that I almost feel like I belong to the people of Henderson County. They’ve all shared in this.

You’ve been active in local and state Republican organizations for many years. When did you first get into politics? When I was in the second grade, my teacher said, “We’re going to have an election tomorrow, the one with Eisenhower. Go home and ask your parents what party you are.” I asked my daddy, and the next day, everybody else in my class went up and made their mark under “Democrat” or “Republican.” My teacher asked: “Why didn’t you vote?”  I said, “Well, you didn’t have my party.” She said, “What’s your party?” And I said, “Vegetarian.” I’ve never forgiven my dad for that.

So when did you become a Republican? When I married Larry, I became a Republican pretty quickly. His family comes with the dirt around here. They’ve been involved in local politics for a long time. I asked Larry many years ago, “What kind of Republicans are we?” He said, “Moderates. We’re conservative with enough sense to get something done.”

But as a young woman, you trained for a different career. I went to nursing school. I like the science part, and I care about people, but I learned that’s just not my thing.

As a state representative, though, you’ve focused on many quality-of-life issues. A constituent has a son with a severe disability, he’s bedridden, but she had no assistance whatsoever. I did something I hate to do. I called and said, “This is State Representative Carolyn Justus and I’m at this house, and I’m going to stay here until you can find somebody who cares.” It’s terrible that anyone has to go to that length to get help.

You’ve pointed out that state mental-health services, in particular, have suffered a near collapse in recent years, with funding and management problems. We are not going to reduce the number of people we provide services for. That’s not going to happen on my watch. But I got in trouble for asking why we are building facilities that are four-star when we could have two-star facilities and serve more people. I’ve had parents come up to me and say, “My child deserves four-star.” I want to help provide for all who we can, not just a few at a high level.

If I asked your fellow legislators what else you’re known for, what would they say? Cemeteries. I’ve worked on some very good legislation for funding and historical recognition for abandoned cemeteries.

Have you encountered sexism or chauvinism in Raleigh? No, though there is an element of people who think women should be in the kitchen.

Carolyn Justus for president? I don’t think so. Women have a big future in politics. We work harder than men, and a lot of clerks in Raleigh don’t want to work for a woman because it’s too much work. Women want to serve their constituency more, and we don’t want men to feel they’re smarter than us or better than us or superior. We’re proving ourselves.

Have you proven yourself? I learned from Larry having a stroke, in 1980. I learned from being a widow. I learned from helping him in his sand-and-gravel business. As you learn to work through the things that happen to you in life, you learn a great deal to help yourself and help other people.