Chapter 6
The Centenarian Spirit
You’ve Gotta Have Heart
THE CENTENARIAN SPIRIT
THE CENTENARIAN SPIRIT IN ACTION
RENEGOTIATING LIFE
SPARKS OF THE SPIRIT
CENTENARIANS ON THE GO
KEEPING LIFE INTERESTING—COMMON INTERESTS, NOT COMMON AGE
CONTEMPORARY CENTENARIANS—THINKING AND FEELING YOUNG
CATCH THE SPIRIT: FORGET AGING GRACEFULLY—AGE EXCELLENTLY!
A FORMULA FOR LONGEVITY
A TOAST TO FUTURE CENTENARIANS
“You’ve gotta have heart All you really need is heart When the odds are sayin’ you’ll never win That’s when the grin should start”
“Heart” music & lyrics by Richard Adler and Jerry Ross, for Damn Yankees, Broadway Musical, 1955, directed by George Abbott (who lived to be 107 years old)
What do Elsa Hoffmann, Verla Morris, Rosie Ross, and Will Clark have in common?
What they have in common is heart. It’s an intangible, but you feel it when you sit with them and hear their stories—theirs and a zillion stories of their peers, all of whose words resonate with the spirit that comes through in the lines from the song in Damn Yankees.
When Rosie Ross, at 101, takes the stage at the supper club in Prescott, Arizona, and raises that shiny new trumpet to his lips and belts out “Sugar Blues,” or puts on the mute for “You Made Me Love You,” and then sits down and talks with you about how much he loves performing, with a bourbon and a splash of water in hand, you know you’ve met the real thing.
When Elsa Hoffmann, at the age of 100, goes out and buys herself a purple Lincoln for her birthday, invites 150 friends and family to her party, and then takes off on a Caribbean cruise, there is no mistaking that this is a lady who reflects the words of the song.
When Will Clark and his wife, Lois, glimpse the Pacific as they transition from Highway 10 from Arizona onto the Pacific Coast Highway headed to San Louis Obispo to visit their son, there’s no question that these two centenarians are really enjoying life.
When Verla Morris logs on to check her e-mail every morning and then chats with new friends on Facebook, we can see that this is a lady who is not intimidated by new technology at the age of 100.
These centenarians and their active contemporaries shatter the long-held stereotypes of aging as a dismal time of life and give us a new, optimistic view.
Heart is a quality that is omnipresent in centenarians. We call it “The Centenarian Spirit.” It is an inner belief, a philosophy of living that comes from practice, from experience, and—yes—from wisdom. Although it is metaphysical in concept, it is immediately recognizable in our centenarians. You can hear it in their words, see it in their daily actions, read it in their stories, and feel it in their presence.
Heart is at the essence of being an active centenarian. It is what allows them to happily and enthusiastically embrace life, even in circumstances that others would find difficult or inadequate. It’s what makes life worth living. It’s their ability and potential to be extraordinary. To go from ordinary lives, for the most part, to extraordinary elders and role models for enjoying life and living it to the fullest. They do not feel sorry for themselves or for their circumstances. They find pleasure and acceptance in the lives they have lived. Centenarians choose to be happy about their lives and about themselves. Most say they are satisfied with their lives and have found a sense of fulfillment in their later years. It’s what allows them to find joy in just being alive, and gratitude for the extra time, the extra days, to spend with family and friends, to accomplish the things that they still want to do, and to add to their legacy.
The components of Heart are found in The Centenarian Spirit.
THE CENTENARIAN SPIRIT
The Centenarian Spirit offers a platform from which we can learn to live a long and healthy and happy life. It is a combination of five essential characteristics. These are common among the centenarians in this book wherever they live, their gender, whatever their past or present station in life.
THE CENTENARIAN SPIRIT IN ACTION
The Centenarian Spirit in action illustrates the will to see life through to the best of one’s ability. It is the joyousness of Madeleine Turpan, the optimism of Aline Matthews, the lifelong religious faith of Williett Bracey, and the moral compass of William Thomas. It’s the determination of Rosie Ross, and the resilience of Mary Tysdal. While different in nature, each of these individuals possesses the mettle to persevere throughout their lives.
Love of Life—Madeleine Turpan, Star of the Bristal
“Joie de vivre” is the first impression everyone gets meeting Madeleine, a vivacious 100 year old. “Yes, a lot of people tell me that,” she says. “I don’t do anything special; it’s just the way I am.” Pausing, she says with a mischievous grin, “Perhaps it’s my French heritage. My mother came from Paris.”
Madeleine grew up in New York City near Central Park. “I married at 19 in 1932. When I first got married I wanted to go back to school, but my husband wouldn’t let me—he said I had enough education. He was Armenian, with a large family living in New York. They spoke their language when together, and I was left out. Worse, I didn’t know what they might be saying about me, and as a young bride this made me uncomfortable. So I bought a first-grade book and taught myself Armenian well enough so I could at least follow their conversations without them knowing.
“For 35 years during our marriage I worked for Stouffer’s restaurants in New York, primarily as the chief dietitian at Top of the Sixes, a prestigious restaurant at that time at 666 Fifth Avenue. I was the overseer for all of the food preparation. Mrs. Stouffer was ahead of her time. Most of the cooks and employees were women.
“We never had children. When my husband retired, we traveled a great deal and we both enjoyed that, especially trips to Europe. But once I was widowed, I went back to school in my mid-70s. I wanted to fill myself up with more than movies. I went to LaGuardia and had to start all over again with high school. I graduated with honors and then went to Hunter College in New York for two years, commuting into the city from Long Island.”
Madeleine now lives on Long Island in at a large retirement center. “She’s the center of attention,” her nephew Gene says. “Everyone loves her.” “You can’t help but feel better when she’s around,” adds an admirer, a gentleman who is almost 99.
Madeline Turpan
Recently, she was interviewed by the radio station at a university near her home for her views on life at 100. On air, both of the students remarked on Madeleine’s “joie de vivre”—those exact words. “It was a long interview, but I liked it,” Madeleine relates. “I was the oldest person either of them had ever met—or even thought of, I suppose.”
On the day of the broadcast, Gene (who is her frequent companion) and she listened to it in his car, parked in the lot of one of their frequent hangouts, which they call “The Castle.” “It was interesting hearing my voice coming out of the car radio—a first! It went on for at least a half-hour. I hated to hear me end,” she says, and expressed her desire to do it again.
“Then we went in (the White Castle) and celebrated with a cheeseburger, fries, and coke. We go there frequently. Everyone is friendly, and of course they all know us. For my 100th, they threw a surprise party for me, and really went all out with big balloons and the whole place decorated. It was very nice of them and we all had a lot of fun. Then later, of course, my family took me to an elegant restaurant where we had my official celebration. I enjoy both—the casual and the formal lifestyle. I always have. I never thought I’d live to 100, I have to admit, but I love every minute of it!”
Positive Attitude—Aline “Stretch” Matthews
Aline “Stretch” Matthews was born and raised on Long Island. “I’m not sure how I got this nickname,” she says, “but I’ve had it all my life. Maybe it’s because my father was the chauffer for a prominent family and drove their limousine—my friends might have picked up on that.”
Stretch tells of her idyllic childhood living on the waterfront estate. “It gave me a taste for elegant clothes and an elegant lifestyle. Fortunately, my husband was able to provide that, and we traveled for his work, taking our son and daughter with us. We traveled worldwide and finally settled in Venice, Florida. I still am very particular about my clothes, my apartment, and my presentation overall. And I’m still getting a weekly massage, as I have for the past 50 years, ever since I heard of its health benefits. I would describe myself as very outgoing and gregarious, and I like martinis at fine restaurants and going on other outings. I can handle the unexpected challenges that come my way from time to time.”
Plans for a party to celebrate her 100th birthday escalated. A favorite niece and her daughter were coming from San Francisco and several other relatives were converging from different parts of the country. Stretch looked forward to dinner with them at a nearby restaurant that she had chosen. One of the guests was concerned that at her age perhaps it was better for her to stay home and have the party there and not venture out. Indignant, Stretch immediately replied: “I’m going! Don’t count me out yet!”
Later, she told her niece, “I don’t know who said this, I’m sure it’s not original, but I think pessimists die early.”
Religious/Spiritual Belief—“Big Momma” and “Granpy”
Williett Bracey is known as Big Momma or Mother Bracey, depending on which of the two pillars of her life one is referring to, her family or her church. She was honored at the Methodist church in Jackson, Mississippi, that has been her second home since she was nine. “I went to the elementary school here before going to high school. I’ve been a Sunday school teacher, treasurer, secretary, and also president of the Women’s Society of Christian Service (now called United Methodist Women). I’ve put on a lot of fundraisers over the years, the most recent two years ago where we raised $5,000.”
At home, Big Momma raised six children. “I still shepherd—well, ride herd on—my extended family, and I still cook Sunday dinner after church,” she says. “They all come. They love my cooking.”
Of the many amazing things Williette has witnessed in her life, she says she never thought she’d see a black president. To her, that’s been the biggest advance in her lifetime.
Her advice on living a long life is simply to “trust in the Lord and do what His word says, and I believe that’s why I’m living this long. I can’t tell what’s in my future, but I can tell you who holds it. I’m just going to run on and see what the end looks like.”
Of her 100th birthday, she says it was her favorite ever. And for now she’s happy the Lord has left her right where she is. “I’m planning on buying a big flat-screen TV with my birthday money.”
Heart of Gold—“Granpy”
William Frederick Thomas, 101, now known as Granpy by everyone, was born in Bridgeport, Connecticut, and created a nice life for himself, on his own. He became an optometrist and an amateur watch repairman. “I liked precision, a place for everything and everything in its place kind of guy. I guess that’s what made me a good pilot and flight instructor, too, which I took up in my 40s and really enjoyed. I married, had two daughters; life was pretty normal.
“Then my wife passed away and I remarried. My new wife had a daughter who became a mother at 16, for which she was not prepared. We took the little girl, Simone, and raised her as our own. Her mother took off. So it was just the three of us. We sent her to Catholic school and, again, life was pretty normal. She married and had a daughter and moved to Florida with her husband. We would visit once in a while, and then when we were in our late 70s, Simone suggested we move in with her. She had a beautiful large home with plenty of room, so we did, and it was nice to have a change of scene and get out of the cold winters.
“Simone belonged to a fellowship church, and my wife began attending with her. They asked me to come with them—they went twice a week—but I was raised Catholic and I didn’t think I would fit into a Christian service that was based on the teachings of Jesus and the Bible, without all the rituals of an established religion. But they were so happy and raved about the people and the experience that I finally let them persuade me to join them one Sunday. That’s when my life changed, at 80.
“I was warmly welcomed by members of the congregation, and within minutes I felt at home. The messages of love and acceptance, of hope and faith, were very encouraging; none of that fire and brimstone stuff. It was all joyous—a celebration—with Scripture reading and song. I guess you could call it more spiritual than religious, but whatever it was, I was captivated by it. I began attending Bible study, and, frankly, learned the Bible for the first time in my life.”
Personal Courage—Rosie Ross
There is often a backstory to the lives of the centenarians in this book, as with active centenarians everywhere. They won’t talk about it right away: they don’t start out by saying, “I’m a cancer survivor,” or “I had a triple bypass operation about 10 years ago.” It’s only after long conversations and getting to know them, that a behind-the-scenes look, usually in an offhand remark, reveals what they have gone through to make it to the century mark and beyond.
Like Rosie telling of the fire that left him with severe burns on his face, neck, hands, and arms when he was in his mid-90s.
He mentioned it casually one day, when we got to know him and spend time with him. He said something to the effect that he had had a kind of “facelift” from the skin grafts and surgeries after the fire, which had changed his appearance but left him with smoother skin. “My eyes are different,” he pointed out, as we were going through his photos.
As we mentioned earlier, Rosie drove himself to his Friday night gigs at the supper club. Because it would be around 1:00 A.M. when he wrapped up and started the 40-minute drive back to his home in Prescott Valley, he decided to get a small camper and keep it at the edge of the parking lot near the woods so he could sleep overnight and drive home in the morning.
“One night I was wakened by the smell of fire. I used a kerosene stove for heat; it was near the door and somehow a fire started. The fire was small, but my first thought was just to get out of that tin box. I grabbed my horn and opened the door. That was a mistake. In an instant, the flames flared up like an explosion right in my face. I managed to stumble out and fortunately the owner was still there and called the medics.
“I spent several months at the VA hospital and had a lot of surgeries and skin grafts, and then rehab. Early on, the doctors told me I would never play the trumpet again because my lips were so badly burned. I told them I had to, so they kept working on me. I would lie there and practice the lip movements that make the sound on the horn. It hurt a lot, but I kept at it. Eventually, I got the mouthpiece from my horn and held it to my lips and would practice with that. This went on for months. The day I could put the mouthpiece back on the horn and make a sound come out was one of the happiest in my life.”
RENEGOTIATING LIFE
Roberta McRaney
“They say lightning never strikes twice, but for me it did,” Roberta McRaney, 101, begins. “The first time was in 1954, when our house burned to the ground. We rebuilt the house in the same spot. The second time was in the early 1970s. My husband and I were in Texas visiting our daughter and her family. A neighbor in Mississippi called to tell us our home in Lumberton had been hit by lightning. Again, it burned to the ground. This time was worse. In addition to everything else, I lost my family pictures. It was hard. But we rebuilt again.
“In the late 1970s we moved from Lumberton back to Mt. Olive. My husband’s health was failing, and I wanted to be closer to family.
“I was born and raised near Mt. Olive, Mississippi. There were 10 of us kids. We grew up on a farm eating biscuits made of lard, bacon and eggs, and a lot of salt. In fact, they’ve been a part of my diet all my life. The only medicine I take is a pill for high blood pressure. My mother lived to 96 and many of my brothers and sisters into their 90s. For me, I think I worked all the fat off.
“When I was a kid, I used to love to pick cotton and everyone laughed at me, but I think all that bending and stooping has made me agile. I still am.”
“After my husband died, I lived by myself ‘til I was 96. My daughter in Texas worried about me being alone. I wasn’t worried a bit, but she wanted me to move to Texas to live with her and her family. I didn’t want to move—I’d lived in Mississippi all my life. But I did. I don’t like living in Texas, but I’m trying to make the best of it.
“I’ve stayed healthy and in good physical shape for all these years. I think it’s because I love to work and still do. I especially like working outdoors. I never just sit around all day. These days I make myself useful around my daughter’s house wherever I can. I sweep the driveway—it’s quite long. I’m out there with my broom while the neighbors are using those blowers. It’s quite a sight! Then I sweep the porch and the deck in back and pick up any fallen limbs in the yard. I really love any work outside. I do things around the house, too, like fold the laundry when it comes out of the dryer, and I always make my bed. I enjoy a fire in the fireplace and I keep it going by bringing in wood from the deck.”
In January 2013, Roberta went back to Mississippi for a month-long visit with her other daughter, who still lives there. “I’m glad to be going home, even if just for little while,” she says.
“I’ve learned to grieve about things and then let them go. You have to. I love people and life. I try to keep a positive attitude.”
SPARKS OF THE SPIRIT
The centenarians who follow have a gleam in their eye, largely because they are doing things they like and that bring meaning and fulfillment to their lives.
“I am too blessed to be depressed,” says Henry Carlton Smith, 100.
Helping Others—Living Well and Doing Good
Centenarians have a history of helping others and have learned that it makes them feel good. For many, it gives a sense of worth and self-esteem. It is gratifying when, at an advanced age, they can still have a positive effect on others’ lives, they say.
“I look forward to the opportunity to help out younger generations,” Gertrude Harradine, 100, said of participating in this book.
Gertrude “Trudy” Harradine, 100, grew up in Springfield, Massachusetts, in a French-Canadian enclave that included her grandparents, aunts, and uncles; 35 cousins and her five younger siblings—all of whom spoke only French. Her parents did not allow their children to speak English at home. “For the first five years of my life, I thought everyone spoke French,” she says. “I had to learn English when I went to school.”
When her father died at age 38, Trudy, then 14, went to work at a fruit and vegetable stand after school and on weekends, “to help my mother make ends meet.” After high school she went to work at a local bank where she met her husband, Allen. “In those days, an unmarried woman at 27 was considered an old maid,” she recalls. “It’s just the way it was then. I continued working at another bank, married people were not allowed to work in the same bank, until my first son was born. Then I stayed home; it’s what was expected for a woman to do.
“I was always very good with numbers and accounting. When we moved to Albion, New York, near Rochester, I helped my husband with his farm machinery business. After my husband died, my daughter Kaye wanted me to move to Michigan to live near her. But I loved my home and I didn’t want to leave. I stayed on for 10 years there. Then, in my 80s, I sold it and moved to an apartment in a retirement center in Rochester. I stayed there for about 10 years—I wasn’t ready to leave New York state yet. I really liked living there. Finally, in my 90s, I called Kaye and said, ‘I’m ready,’ so I moved to an apartment in a retirement center near her in Michigan.”
A devout Catholic, Trudy believes it is her faith and a strong positive outlook on life that have gotten her to the century mark. “No one in my entire family lived especially long,” she recalls. “I believe in the Serenity Prayer. Most people have heard it, but don’t take the time to stop and think about its meaning. It has helped me throughout my life and every time I’m asked for my advice, this is what I tell people: ‘God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.’ I interpret this to mean that I must do my part as I live life, but believe that God will not let me fall down. I believe God has a plan for me, and that it is a good plan. I may not understand it, but I must trust in God and believe everything will turn out all right. I have people come back and thank me—it seems to help a lot of people.
“I use a walker now because my vision is failing, but I still go out for a two-mile walk every day when the weather cooperates. On others, I walk the hallways.
“I had a happy childhood and I wanted my children to have the same. I made it a point to always be home when they came from school.”
Kaye is very proud of her mother. “She has a really wonderful attitude and I think that’s what’s kept her around so long. It’s made a big impact on me.”
Anna Orr, 102, is pleased to be doing well by staying active while doing things for others. “As the mother of 10 children, I always had to keep moving,” she says. “Once alone, I took up power walking. I continue to walk every day, regardless of the weather, and once a week I walk a mile to the nursing home to help with the old folks who need it.”
Often, the length of service of centenarians to their communities and participation in civic organizations goes on for decades. They were not in it for the short term and good volunteer work became an important part of many of their lives. Most centenarians, such as Jack Borden, exhibit a stick-to-itiveness that has contributed to the growth and well-being of their communities, and have been active members of charitable organizations for years. Others remain active in their university alumni associations and often serve on scholarship and fundraising boards.
“I have been an active member of the Eastern Star for over 60 years and am a member of the American Association of University Women,” says Kathryn Enix, 100.
Andy Rasch, 107, says, “I’ve been helping others all my life, starting with my kid sister when we were teenagers. We were left orphans and put in a home. It was awful and we were abused, especially my sister. I was always a big kid so I could defend myself better. I promised her I would get her out of there as soon as I could, so I ran away when I was 15. I got a job and saved my money, and two years later I went back for her. She was in the yard and I stood by the iron fence—I know, it sounds like a movie scene, but it’s true. At first she didn’t recognize me, but I called to her and she came when she heard my voice. It’s a long story and you don’t want to hear the details, but I got her away from there and we lived together until she married at 21.
“I’ve continued to help other people whenever I could, ever since, especially veterans returning from wars, and those who are homeless. There is so much need in the world, everybody can do some good. It’s been a big part of my life and I’m proud of it.”
Identical twins Winnie Miller and Sally Lazarus, 100, share more than the background of a harsh childhood with Andy; they, too, have devoted a large part of their lives to doing good things for others, and it has, in part, defined them.
Growing up on the Lower East Side of New York City, the children of immigrant parents, they were sent to work at the age of 14 to help support their family. The girls attended high school at night, determined to get an education. In adulthood, they both took up causes to help those in need, even while rearing families of their own. They also shared the care of their sister who was stricken with multiple sclerosis.
“We’ve never lived more than 20 minutes apart, for most of our lives,” Winnie said.
Sally started a program to create recordings of books for the blind long before this became a common service. Through her 80s she spent time at the local hospital with seniors who had no other visitors, and reading to children who were alone and scared, she said. Winnie worked with disabled children at a local home, and tutored disadvantaged youths for many decades. When her oldest son married a Swedish woman, Winnie learned to speak the language in her 60s so she could talk with her grandchildren. She made many trips to Sweden to visit them into her 90s. Now 100, Winnie is still traveling to California to visit her other grandchildren.
Winnie Miller and Sally Lazarus
Lifelong learning and continued self-improvement was important to the twins. Winnie learned to play golf so she could join her husband, and learned to ski in her 50s to join her children on ski vacations. Sally learned to swim at 55 and to play tennis in her 60s. Both loved going to the theater and continued to do so into their late 80s; and Sally and her husband also took college courses at the nearby state university.
Winnie says, “Until our retirement years, before Sally and her husband moved to Florida, we did so many things together and were very close. But even then we talked by phone every day and we always celebrated all of the holidays together.”
CENTENARIANS ON THE GO
“Whenever anyone says ‘Go,’ I’m ready,” Kit Abrahamson, 105, exclaims.
Many centenarians we interviewed are not content just sitting around day after day. They still want to go out with friends and relatives, go to restaurants, go to the movies, and engage in other activities they have enjoyed earlier in their lives. They do not accept that they must stop doing these things just because they are old. As we have seen, centenarians are breaking the long-held stereotypes of life in later years.
Elsa Brehm Hoffmann: Come to the Cabaret
“I knew I had to remain active when I lost my husband. Bill was the love of my life and there could never be another man for me,” Elsa Hoffmann says, expressing the viewpoint of many centenarian women who are widows, typically for two or more decades. “I’ve always enjoyed people. I like going out and being with others—having fun, socializing, and making new friends.”
“I was the first single woman to be admitted to the country club I wished to join. I think it’s because I was a good golfer.”
Elsa has remained a member and participates in all of the club’s activities. Never wanting for an escort, she has a cadre of friends to accompany her to dances and other couples’ events. Many are years younger, but with Elsa’s spirited personality, the age difference doesn’t matter.
“I enjoy getting dressed up and going out with people. We have a weekly luncheon at the club, a ladies group, after which we play pinochle. It’s good mental stimulation, and of course we have plenty of time for ‘girl talk.’” (Two of Elsa’s good friends are also centenarians.) Elsa believes going out anywhere lifts the spirits. “Getting dressed as nicely as possible and mingling with others, even if it’s at the grocery store, is important.
“It’s no good sitting home alone all the time,” she advises. “Sure, sometimes it’s easier to just stay home, but after a while it becomes a habit and then it’s even harder to go, and then the loneliness sets in and depression; it’s just not healthy. So reach out to people—get out, even if you’re alone. You will find your place, eventually. Just keep trying to make new friends. Our later years are no time to become a loner.”
Mary Tysdal
The vivacious Mary Tysdal attributes her longevity to her strong faith, positive attitude, and resilience. “My husband of 65 years passed away when I was 98. He was 100 and three months—isn’t that amazing that we both made it to the century mark? For a lot of women, that would be a blow and perhaps they would seek the security of a retirement home. But that’s not for me. I want to remain independent and live in my own home. So I adjusted and moved on. I mourned his loss, but you just can’t dwell on it. I get along just fine here now. My kids were concerned that I would be isolated, since none of them live nearby. But I have a wonderful social network, and I’m sensible—I don’t take risks. I have help come in when I need it, but otherwise I manage my home myself.”
Mary Tysdal
“Sure there are trials and tribulations, but on balance, just be glad to be alive. I know I am. I have a good family and friends, and I thank God he’s let me stay here this long to be with them.”
“My son and his wife came last year and surprised me with a ‘do-over.’ Lloyd and I had maintained our home, which we built in the ’60s, but it needed updating and got it. It was fun. I chose the colors; my bedroom is lime green, my favorite, with flowered drapes and a fluffy down comforter. I have chocolate brown accent walls in the living room, my son’s idea. It is truly my home now.
“When you’re young, you don’t think about getting old. But as Lloyd and I got on in years, we accepted it and had a good feeling about getting older and continuing to enjoy life. That was very rewarding. So many people are frightened. But you have to just get on with living and keep a good attitude and feel good about your own ability to cope. Resiliency is the main thing. If you can laugh at yourself, it’s all OK. You need to have a sense of humor to get joy out of life.
“I’m getting along just fine and renewed my driver’s license for another five years. I like going out for lunch with ‘the girls,’ all of whom are 20 years younger. I’m a Minnesota Twins fan, attend games occasionally, and travel often to visit my four children in California.” Mary, now 103, continues her active schedule.
Ben Harris
When asked for the secret to his long life, Ben Harris, 100, replied: “I rode Harleys and chased young women.” His wife, Mary, is 20 years his junior. Riding until he was 95, Ben claimed the title of oldest Harley rider east of the Mississippi. At 94, he rode to Dayton Beach for Bike Week. “I didn’t feel a bit out of place,” he says.
But that was not the longest trip for Ben in his 90s. At 92, he attended the 60th anniversary of the Allies’ landing on the Palau Islands in the western Pacific, which is several hundred miles off the coast of the Philippines. The event was held at the Peleliu World War II Museum on Peleliu Island, location of one of the fiercest battles of World War II in 1944. Although he spent three and a half years as an artillery man, participating in invasions of numerous islands in the Pacific, including Guadalcanal, “I was never injured. But I figured my number was going to come up soon—I’d already lost two buddies from home. When the war ended I was in the Philippines on maneuvers practicing for the invasion of Japan. I was really glad that things were over.”
Ben Harris
After the war, like many former servicemen, Ben used the GI Bill to train for a career, which in his case was to own a collision shop in California for 30 years. “I learned how to do body work and how to paint a car. It fit in well with my real love: Harleys. As we say, ‘Live to ride, ride to live!’”
Joe Meyser
Joe Meyser, 105, was always an adventurous guy, with wanderlust. In the mid-1920s, he took up flying and was a barnstormer in the Midwest for a few years before earning his commercial pilot’s license in 1929. He bought a three-seat plane and helped start a small airport in Iowa, were he flew freight and performed acrobatic barnstorming events with The Barry Circus on weekends. In the early 1930s, Joe moved to a larger airport in Illinois and was licensed to fly passengers. He flew until 1935, when he married and moved to Englewood, California. Joe’s intention was to fly for North American Aviation, but he was hired instead in the engineering department and was involved in production of war planes for World War II.
The number of hours Joe flew in his early years qualified him for membership in the OX5 Club, founded in 1955 in Latrobe, Pennsylvania, following a rally of OX5 pilots. The OX5 engine, an early V-8 liquid-cooled aircraft engine built by Curtis, was the first U.S.-designed engine to enter mass production. Along with other aviation pioneers, Joe has enjoyed the camaraderie of other members now numbering 900, in different chapters across the nation. (Captain Grant is also a member on the East Coast). Nowadays, members no longer need to be pilots or mechanics.
Joe retired early in 1954. “You’ve got to have a job you enjoy,” he believes. “I lived like that my whole life; I was lucky to have a wife who put up with it. In my 40s I realized that although I had a good job with a good career path, I knew it was not good for me—too stressful. So I got out and did what I wanted to do.” Joe bought an orange grove and a health food store and ran it for five years; then bought an avocado grove and a Laundromat, which he ran until he was 70. “In the meantime, I’d bought a motor home and we traveled all over the West.
“When we moved to Champagne Village in Escondido, developed by Lawrence Welk who called it ‘a little piece of heaven,’ I took up golf. But I got a little restless, so at 72 I bought land near Lake Tahoe and designed and built our house, doing a lot of the work myself. We lived in the Sierras for eight years. After my wife died when I was 80, I sold the home and traveled around in the motor home for a while, and then came back to Escondido. I bought another home next door to where we used to live. My wife and I had been friends with a couple on our block. I soon learned her husband had died in the meantime, so Doris and I became friends, and then she became my girlfriend. We lived five doors down from each other—it was a perfect arrangement, and we’ve been together ever since. I continued taking trips in the motor home and playing golf; I was getting pretty good.
Joe Meyser
“Doris and I made a lot of new friends, mostly women Doris knew. We’d go to the dinner dance every month and always sit at the same table with Doris’s friends. To keep busy, I took up the hobby of silversmithing and traveled through the Southwest studying Indian jewelry, mostly Navaho. I designed and made necklaces, and gave them to my friends. Eventually, all of Doris’s friends had necklaces and they would wear them to the dances. Our table became known as Joe’s Harem.”
At 90, Joe heard about the Senior Olympics and decided to enter, playing golf. He drove alone to the Huntsman World Senior Games in Utah, and won a medal in his age group. “I was hooked by the attention and went for the next six years. I got six gold medals.” The following year, when he was 97, while driving to the games Joe was in the desert by himself when he developed a stomach problem that required hospitalization. “After that experience, I decided to give up the motor home, but I kept my license and kept driving until I was 100. I played golf until I was 103. Now I think I’m retired.” But, he says, “the beat goes on.”
A sizeable number of centenarians we have met have traveled internationally in their 80s and 90s, and a few, such as John Donnelly and Herbert Bauer, at 100 or close to it.
Betty Lucarelli said of her life with her second husband, “We traveled the world together, to Europe, South America, China, Japan, and local places in Florida and to Arizona.”
A few, such as Betty, have developed a love for travel as they have grown older, for places near and far. Others have never outgrown it, and don’t want to give it up.
James Hanson, 104, though, holds the record among our centenarians for having accumulated the most mileage as a traveler. “I’ve been all over the world,” he says, “including Greenland and the South Pole.”
KEEPING LIFE INTERESTING—COMMON INTERESTS, NOT COMMON AGE
Not everyone has the desire or the means to travel, but all centenarians enjoy the company of others, of all ages, and say that it enhances their life—whether they are interacting with friends and family or casual acquaintances.
As we have seen illustrated on these pages, socialization plays an important role in the lives of centenarians, just as it does at any other stage of life. Forging and maintaining connections to younger generations, whether it’s with one generation or three, is essential to keeping life interesting, they say. “After all, there aren’t many people around my own age, so I advise everyone as they grow older to make younger friends,” says Garnett Beckman.
Often, the most readily available of younger generations can be found within one’s family, especially grandchildren with whom many seem to share a special affection, and nieces and nephews who become as close as children as the years go on.
Addie Belle Roberts, 101, reports, “My granddaughter visits every week and we play cards or take a long walk in the garden. I can’t walk as fast as I once could, and she never complains about my slow pace. We have a special connection and have for years. She is a great joy in my life.”
Mary Pauline McNeil, 105, takes great satisfaction in knowing she is the ancestor to 29 great grandchildren. “I stay in touch with all of them.”
Josephine Signorino, 100, spends time in the kitchen with her niece and grandniece when they come to visit, sharing her special recipes for stuffed artichokes and soups along with other dishes from her native Sicily. She loves to go shopping with them, but when it comes to household chores she is adamant about doing her housekeeping, shoveling snow, putting out the trash, and paying her own bills.
Josephine Signorino
“I like to take care of myself, although I have 90 nieces and nephews who would be glad to help.”
Dancing to Your Own Music—“Granpy” and Simone’s Journey
“Eventually, I grew homesick and wanted to move back to Connecticut,” Granpy said (see Religious/Spiritual Belief, earlier in this chapter). “So, on faith alone, Simone packed up and we drove north, not knowing where we would end up. But she said, ‘Granpy,’everyone calls me that, ‘you took me in when you had no idea what the future would hold for us, and I’ll do that for you now. You will never be in a strange place. I’ll take care of you, as you did for me.’ My second wife had passed by this time. The degree of Simone’s devotion to me is extraordinary; I am very grateful.
“We found an apartment in a senior living facility in Westport, and settled into a new life. It was hard for Simone, I know, although she’s never complained. And then, neither of us had any idea I would live to 102! No one in my family had lived particularly long.
“Once here, we reached out to several of the churches to see if they would provide transportation for the other residents who did not have a way to get to church and they missed going, but got no help. So one day Simone said, ‘Granpy, let’s start our own Bible study right here.’ At first we had difficulty getting the rec room for this use, but Simone called a lawyer in town and within the week we had permission to use the rec room on Sundays.
“‘OK, what’ll we do?’ I asked Simone. She thought for a moment—we really hadn’t planned this out—and she said, ‘Well, we’ll read the Bible and let people share their stories of faith, and sing.’
“‘Sing?’ I said, ‘I can’t sing!’ So she got me to try it, with the songs we learned at the Christian church in Florida—not somber hymns actually, but joyous songs praising God and his presence in our lives.
“We put up a little notice on the bulletin board. Simone found a CD player and two microphones and some speakers, and I brought my Bible. We set up the room and waited.
“‘Well, I might as well practice a song,’ I said, and as I was singing What a Friend We Have in Jesus, one by one people began coming in. It was almost like I was calling them, except I know God was. To tell you the truth, I started to cry—I was overwhelmed with emotion. I just kept on singing other songs praising the Lord, and the folks kept coming in, some with walkers, some with canes, one in a wheelchair, pushing the heavy wheels herself, and some just fine and fit. Simone and I welcomed them, and I began reading from the Bible. Most had theirs with them, too. Then Simone passed the microphone and others read favorite passages, then we sang some more.
“In the following weeks, as people got comfortable being together, we would pass the microphone and people would share their stories or concerns, hopes, and fears. There was always a line for the microphone—seems everyone wanted to be able to talk and also to praise the Lord. It turned into our own little ministry, and we carried it on for a couple of years, and then someone else took it over to lead the group.
“Now, I watch religious programs on television often and have joined the 700 Club—I enjoy their fellowship and sense of community, and I get lots of material from them. I sing every day, praising the Lord for this beautiful world he has let me be a part of for so long. And, of course, prayer is a big part of my life. Simone and I begin each day with a prayer of thanks and end each day with one of gratitude. For me, it makes life complete.”
Let the Good Times Roll
Rosie’s story continues (see Personal Courage earlier in this chapter). About a year after the accident, and as soon as he was able, Rosie was back on stage at the supper club. He bought a larger trailer with a more secure heating system, but other than that his routine stayed the same. Each Saturday morning, he would get up early and drive home, where Doc, his roommate two years his junior, would have breakfast ready. They would sit at the small table in Rosie’s kitchen—the dining room table had long ago been taken over by other items, including Rosie’s pictures and memorabilia—and discuss the prior evening’s events. Doc and his lady friend, Mary, were Friday night regulars. They would be among the first to arrive at the supper club and had a reserved table near the stage. After dinner and a couple of sets, they would drive home around 10:00.
“We are like ‘The Odd Couple,’” Rosie says jovially of living with his roommate, Doc.
Asked how they came to be roommates, an arrangement they had enjoyed for several years, Rosie explains: “When Mary (Rosie’s fifth wife—it took a while to find the right one, he says) and I moved here about 20 years ago, we had spent a couple of years at Lake Havasu before that, but it was too quiet for me there. I didn’t like retirement, and I missed my friends here. Well, we bought this house, and the house was her domain, and I built on an addition, converting the two-car garage. I did most of the work myself (I used to be a carpenter as a day job years ago to support myself as a musician). I called it Rosie’s Room, and put in a full-length wood bar, shelves, the whole nine yards, including a small dance floor and about 10 small tables and chairs. There are no windows except for a small one at the back behind the stage for some ventilation, and it had an entrance in the front separate from the house. There is a door between the two, of course—you have to go up a couple of steps to get into the house.
“Every Saturday night I would invite friends or they would just drop by for a drink and some music. We had an informal band, but really, anyone who loved music could come and play—we had an open microphone, so to speak. The bar was well stocked, but people were considerate and would bring a bottle sometimes to contribute. Mary would cook, and I have to give her credit because she hated the whole idea, she was a real homebody type. She made things for us like chili or finger food and set up a buffet table. She was a terrific cook. Then she’d leave and come back and check every once in a while if anything needed replenishing. She’d stay in the living room watching TV when she wasn’t in the kitchen.
“I love a good party, and we had a great time. One of the regulars was a fellow everyone called ‘Doc,’ who had recently moved up to Prescott from Phoenix. He’d been a chiropractor—that’s how he got his nickname. He’d lost his wife and didn’t know anyone. My next-door neighbor, another Mary, and he became friends, and struck up a relationship. Doc lived quite a distance away, and my Mary and I would worry about him driving back alone late at night, and he wasn’t the kind of guy who would stay next door, at least not then. So we invited him to spend Saturday nights with us, which worked out great. Mary would come over for brunch on Sunday and the four of us would have a good time. Eventually, Doc started staying Sunday nights, too. And then others, to the point where my wife suggested he just move in, informally, and stay whenever he wanted, which he did.
“It wasn’t a burden because he and his Mary started traveling—they went everywhere—I’ve never seen anything like it! They went to the Far East, they went to Europe, and they took cruises. After my wife passed away, they drove one summer to Alaska and coaxed me into going along. I hated it, and flew back from Anchorage as soon as we got there. But they kept on going. Doc’s planning his last big trip now.
“So we were both bachelors, and Doc sold his house and moved in permanently. That’s when we became the Odd Couple. He makes sure I eat properly and take some of the vitamins that line the kitchen shelves. I have to do the dishes, though. He straightens up behind me when I leave a mess. Things like that. But we get along fine. Doc likes the parties. I keep things hoppin’. Doc reached the century mark, too. That had been his goal all along.”
CONTEMPORARY CENTENARIANS—THINKING AND FEELING YOUNG
Not feeling their chronological age is a common thread among most centenarians we interviewed. They say they feel on average at least 20 years younger, which would be around 80. When asked at what age they think people are considered to be in old age, they’ll say in one’s 90s. “There may be old people out there,” as one centenarian said, “But I’m not one of them.”
“I don’t know what age I feel like, but it’s certainly not 100.”
Ruth Proskauer Smith, 102
With active centenarians, this is a familiar refrain. “I never think about age,” Gertrude Knowlton says. “I think about what I want to do each day. My theory is age is an attitude. I’ve never paid attention to age. I’ve always been younger than my biological age.”
“Over the past 20 years I’ve felt 15 to 20 years younger than my chronological age.”
Mary Fleming, 103
While there is a sense of pragmatism about their limits, centenarians are young at heart. Active centenarians do not live in the past, although they honor it as part of their life experience. They are interested in contemporary life and in the world around them.
“Be comfortable with your life,” Janet Brooks, 100, advises, “throughout all its seasons.” Or, as Dorothy Oellers, 100, says, “Bloom where you are planted.”
Helping others, having realistic expectations, forgiving those who have wronged us, keeping a positive attitude, and being grateful for what one has, seem essential; and most say they are satisfied with their lives and wouldn’t change a thing. This is a common theme among centenarians: “I’m enjoying every day of my life.” To be able to say that at the pinnacle of advanced age is about as good as life gets.
Charles Kayhart—Communications Pro
Take Charles Kayhart, 101, for example. On the one hand he takes pride in staying active, and like many centenarians could pass for 80. He enjoys learning and keeping pace with new technology. “I spent a large part of my life in the technology aspects of the communications industry, and it’s something I’ve always been interested in. I correspond by e-mail all the time—no more snail mail. I’m fascinated to see where technology is going, and I want to remain a part of it.
“For my birthday, I just bought myself an iPad, and it’s really cool. And whatever comes next, I’m going to have one of those, too.”
On the other hand, he doesn’t forget important things from his past. As a veteran, Charles enjoyed taking a trip to Washington, D.C., to tour the World War II Memorial. It gave him a chance to revisit his past. “I went as part of the Honor Flight organization. I was the oldest participant in the group. It was great meeting and talking to other veterans and honoring those who didn’t make it home. I was on Iwo Jima at the height of the battle.
“When it was my time to get into the war—after college and working several years as an engineer in the growing radio and electronic field, an area I’ve liked since I was a kid—I joined the Army Signal Corps. They sent me to Harvard and MIT to study radar and assigned me to the Army Air Corp. I was stationed briefly at Robbins Field in Georgia before being sent to Hawaii and then Iwo Jima.
“We landed two days after the flag had been raised on Mt. Suribachi,” Charles continues. “I was commanding an Army Signal Corp battalion. Our job was to establish a communications system so that all the units on the island could be coordinated. After six months, I was ordered back to headquarters in Hawaii.
“While waiting for my air transport to return, I saw what I now know was the Enola Gay flying overhead to Hiroshima to drop the atomic bomb.”
“I became the commanding officer of the inter-island radio station in Hawaii, and stayed on for a while after the war ended. In 1946 I left the military as a Captain and returned to civilian life. Continuing my career on the engineering side of the communications industry, I joined Magnavox in 1947 as their first field engineer, and eventually retired in 1976 in Greenville, Tennessee, after founding a new division for the company. I decided then that this would be my home for the rest of my life.”
Besides keeping very current on new technology, Charles continues to drive and mows his own lawn with a push mower. “Life is great fun,” says Charles, and you can tell that the moment you speak with him.
Charles “Cliff” Kayhart
Astrid Thoenig—Today’s Modern Woman
For Astrid Thoenig, 103, staying current with the times is a requirement. “I’m still working full time, and I love it.” Over her long life Astrid has had many roles along with dedicated career woman: wife, mother, community volunteer, single working Mom, entrepreneur, remarriage, third career, caring daughter to her mother, and involved grandmother. “I’m blessed,” she believes.
“When people hear me on the phone or watch me do my work, they mistake me for someone 40 years younger.”
“I’m not quick to tell my chronological age. It’s not that I have any tricks or secrets to staying younger—this is just the way I am and always have been.”
Astrid is a fair-minded, practical, no-nonsense woman, with an engaging personality—and she can tell a good story.
“My parents were Swedish immigrants,” she begins. “My father and a sister died in the 1918 flu pandemic, when I was nine. My mother and another sister were both sickened, but I never got sick at all. My mother remarried, and my stepfather was very good to us. I always called him Dad.
“In high school I learned to sew and do needlework, skills that I used to make most of my clothing throughout my life. I also learned typing and stenography and other business skills that would provide the foundation for a career. Early on, I dreamed of having a career. After graduation, most girls looked forward to marriage and a family, but I was eager to go to work. So eager, in fact, that during Christmas recess in my senior year I worked at a local bank. I loved working and thought I would stay on at the bank rather than finish out my senior year. My mother was so wise; instead of telling me I couldn’t do that, she went to the bank president and asked him not to offer me a job until I had graduated. I didn’t find out until years later. At the time I was disappointed, but by the time I’d graduated in June 1928, I had decided I wanted to work for a lawyer and set about finding a job with a local law firm. If there had been paralegal positions at that time, I would have followed that course.
“As it was, I worked for a couple of local lawyers for the next three years, enjoying the challenging and interesting work. Then I wanted a change, so I took a job on Wall Street in Manhattan at an import-export business. I thought I would be an old maid, and I was OK with that, except I began to wish for a family of my own. On vacation at Lake George one summer with my mother and my sister, a couple of boys came over to us as we were sitting by the water. We talked and discovered they were from New Jersey also. We exchanged phone numbers. The boys offered to leave the canoe they had rented with us to use since they had paid for it and were leaving before the rental was up. We accepted and enjoyed paddling around the lake. When we returned it, we discovered we had been stuck with the bill—it had not been paid in advance. It was an innocent mistake, but Stewart was so embarrassed when I told him when he called—I teased him about it—it was a riot. We began dating and were married in 1937. I continued working and he was a manager at Collier’s magazine. Even though it was during the Depression, we were all right. For many others, though, it was awful.
“In 1942, with the birth of our son, John, I became a stay-at-home mom. I was contented. Then my life suddenly changed. My husband was drafted when John was only 18 months old. They hadn’t been taking fathers until then, but suddenly there was a shortage of men, and he was called up and sent to France. A few weeks later, that practice was stopped, and others didn’t have to serve, my brother-in-law for one. It just shows how arbitrary life can be—my husband missed it by four weeks. He was wounded in battle and earned the Purple Heart for his bravery. But his injuries left him totally disabled to do any physical work, so he was given a desk job in Atlanta, where he served out the rest of the war. He never really recovered from his injuries and died when John was nine, the same age as I was when I lost my father.
“In order to support us and still be home with John, I started working from home doing typing for lawyers and other professionals in the area, and even a judge. It was an unusual arrangement in those days. But my friend’s husband was a lawyer and he lost his secretary, so he began coming over in the evenings and giving me dictation and I would type it up and deliver it to his office the following day. My home business grew by word of mouth. I was a good typist and stenographer, and I enjoyed the work. If you enjoy what you’re doing, you do it well. After six years, I was so busy that I was about to hire a girl to work with me and start a formal business. Then, on my mother’s birthday, we were at a restaurant celebrating. My dad was a home builder. One of the patrons recognized him and came over to the table. I was introduced to Ray Thoenig, an architect who worked for my dad. One thing led to another and we married.
Astrid Thoenig
“The only problem was, Ray was vehemently opposed to having a working wife—even working at home. And so I gave up my business and settled into being a housewife. I kept busy volunteering in the community—activities my husband approved of—with organizations such as the Red Cross and United Way. Then I was asked to volunteer part time for the borough treasurer’s office. I really liked that because it was interesting and substantive. It soon led to the offer of a full-time job, so I said to Ray, ‘I’m so bored, I just can’t stay home any longer. I’ll do all the things I should around the house and as your wife, but I’ve just got to go back to work.’ Over his objection, I took the job of assistant treasurer, but when I was offered the treasurer’s job, Ray put his foot down and said no. He didn’t want me traveling and attending meetings at night as I would have had to do, so I stayed in the assistant treasurer’s job. He was earning a good living for us as an architect, and in the 1950s and early 1960s, for our generation it was considered a negative for a man whose wife worked outside the home. It was seen as though he couldn’t support her. It was all nonsense, of course, but that’s the way it was. It was a status symbol for a woman to be a full-time stay-at-home wife—at least for the man.
“I regret not taking the job. After 16 years of marriage, I was widowed again. But now I had a chance of a lifetime. When my son, John, came to me with the idea of starting an insurance business, I jumped at the chance. I was 68. I quit my job and we went into business together. Third time’s a charm, they say. I’ve worked full time at the business as secretary, office manager—handling all the finances and bills—and keeping everything in order and on track since then. It’s a joy to be doing work I love alongside the people I love. My grandson has joined the business. But when I walk through that door, it’s all business and our relationship ends until the end of the day. I’m treated like any other employee—no favoritism or nepotism. If I want time off, I ask for it. That way, other employees respect me, because I’m one of them and there’s never any tension in the office that I’m getting special treatment.
“I’m using the computer in addition to the fundamental skills I learned decades ago; it’s a nice mix. I love to work, and I love the work I do.”
“It must be terribly unpleasant, even difficult, for people who don’t like their jobs. Most of all, I love to type. It’s like playing the piano, and I make very few mistakes. With a computer you’re using your brain and your typing skills, and it’s a good way to keep your mind sharp and maintain your coordination. But I still like the sound of a typewriter. I don’t miss carbon copies, though—that was a nightmare if you made a mistake, having to erase it on every page.
“Except for a botched hip operation when I was 98, the result of a slip, my health has always been good. I had to give up driving then and that was hard, and I’m slower now. I was always very quick—I hate being slowed down. But at least I’m not in a wheelchair. I live alone in my own apartment and spend the evenings reading and knitting. I love to knit, I always have. Right now, I’m working on an afghan with a very intricate pattern. I don’t like to do easy patterns. They’re boring. I like the challenge. And I think to myself, ‘I want to stay around to finish this afghan,’ and then I’ll start a sweater and want to be around to finish the sweater. I’m a fatalist, I suppose. I think when it’s your time, you leave. Until then, I intend to enjoy my life just the way it is.”
On a personal note, Astrid shares advice to those who have elders in their lives. “It’s important to keep occupied even when you’re older, and it’s important for people to have a sense of satisfaction. Others can help them achieve this with a little ingenuity.” She tells of her mother, who lived to be 101. “She had been a hardworking woman all her life, and she was an avid knitter. For years and years she knitted beautiful baby garments—sweaters, booties, hats—they were her specialty, and she would donate them to the church or to charities to sell at fundraisers and to organizations that helped people in need. When she began to lose her vision because of macular degeneration, she chose to live in a group home. She didn’t want to be a burden on me because I was working and she didn’t want me to quit and take care of her. She continued her knitting and would offer her items for sale to benefit the home. As her sight diminished, she could no longer see when she dropped a stitch, ruining the item. I made an arrangement with the woman who ran the home that I would supply the yarn and she would continue to display my mother’s baby clothes as though they were for sale, and change them out periodically. We kept that arrangement until the end of my mother’s life, and she was so pleased of the baby clothes she was able to make to help others.
“There are small things we can do to help give our elders a sense of dignity and of remaining who they are,” she believes.
Of course, that’s for people when they grow old—and Astrid is not there yet! She’ll be the first to tell you.
Irving Kahn, Money Manager
We met Irving Kahn, then 104, at his Wall Street money management firm, Kahn Brothers. He made it clear that he was not interested in being recognized because of his age, but rather because of his work. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about over being a centenarian,” he said. “I’d rather be thought of because of what we do—successfully managing people’s money.” Mr. Kahn is chairman and one of his sons is president of the firm. However, he did concede that he enjoyed kicking off his 100th birthday by ringing the opening bell at the New York Stock Exchange. At lunch recently in his office, Mr. Kahn, now 107, said he was still actively involved in managing investments for his clients.
As a student at Columbia University, he was a teaching assistant to Ben Graham, whose Value Investment philosophy he learned and has since followed throughout his career. He worked with Professor Graham on statistical material for Graham’s major work, Security Analysis (co-authored with David Dodd), published in 1934. “This book is still in print, and is widely regarded as the ‘bible’ of investment philosophy. We remained friends for 30 years, and in fact I met my wife, Ruth, at one of Professor Graham’s lectures.”
Mr. Kahn tells an anecdote from his long career. “I made my first trade, a short sale of $300 of stock two days before the crash, and I doubled my money and watched those around me lose their shirts as things fell apart. Even as an inexperienced kid just starting out, I could see that there was a lot of gambling on borrowed money, and it would never last.”
Mr. Kahn’s career encompassed associations with such well-known firms as Loeb Rhodes and Lehman Brothers, before founding Kahn Brothers in 1978 with his two sons. He was one of the first persons to take the examination to become a Certified Financial Analyst in 1963.
CATCH THE SPIRIT: FORGET AGING GRACEFULLY—AGE EXCELLENTLY!
This general feeling among centenarians of being decades younger than indicated by their birth certificates is good news for Baby Boomers and the generations just ahead of them. Given the role models we have seen in this book, the ubiquitous precept to “age gracefully” is outmoded. Contemporary centenarians, who say they are enjoying life at the pinnacle of age, show that it is possible to instead “age excellently.”
“I love my life and I enjoy each day,” says Inez Houston, 100.
And Boomers, who have gone far beyond the normal societal limits and expectations since the mid-1960s, have the opportunity now to set this standard, to create a “cool old age,” if they choose, and in doing so to leave an example for younger generations to follow. In the process, the Boomer generation will produce an abundance of octogenarians, nonagenarians, and centenarians.
Boomers have the ability and the opportunity to emulate the active centenarian model, thus creating a better standard of living as we age, as a cultural norm. To paraphrase Dylan Thomas’s admonition, Boomers and new centenarians, like today’s active centenarians, “will not go gentle into that good night.” Striving to live life to the fullest is an attractive alternative to the societal cliché “aging gracefully” or just “running out the clock.” This cultural norm is passive and passé in the twenty-first century. It is time for a new alternative for life in later years. This is a paradigm shift that encapsulates what we see in the lives of centenarians in this book. The term aging excellently is a concept that is personalized and individualized.
In this, active centenarians are our role models. They show us in this book how they have persevered through life’s challenges. For them it was the Great Depression, World War II, illnesses that would be easy to cure today, the loss of loved ones, and many other of life’s vicissitudes. They show us the importance of making financial soundness a priority, caring for their health, taking satisfaction from their life’s work, and finding new activities after retirement. It’s a desire to continue to contribute to their families and communities in whatever way they can, if only by being a good example and keeper of the zeitgeist (i.e., the family lore).
“Power” of Centenarians
And then there are some centenarians who are endowed with “special powers,” at least in the eyes of their descendants—Sidney Kronish, for one.
Sidney Kronish, PhD, has enough credentials of his own, which include Navy veteran, tenured economics professor (retired), author, and labor mediator. “My first book was published in 1955 and my latest in 1995,” he says. “I am a consummate reader. I read the New York Times cover to cover every day and several books a month. I enjoy discussing current affairs with anyone who will listen, particularly with those who hold opposing views on politics.” Adding to his luster was an interview on CBS National News a few months before his 100th birthday in June 2012.
But it’s his role as patriarch of the family that garners the most attention, at least from his great great great nephew, Ben, age four, who, upon hearing that his great great great Uncle Sidney had turned 100, was so intrigued that he frequently made observations such as:
Sidney Kronish
Undoubtedly, there will be new amazing adventures of great great great Uncle Sidney revealed.
For every party the family has or goes to, Ben asks if his great great great Uncle Sidney has been invited.
A FORMULA FOR LONGEVITY
Longevity = Genes + Lifestyle + Attitude + Wisdom + Innovations
It would be wonderful to have a formula to live to be 100, however, nothing can guarantee longevity. Still, this book shows how many of our centenarians have used their wisdom and rapidly moving technological and medical innovation to add extra years to their lives. Of course, having the right genes is a major factor, and modern research is working to unlock these longevity keys. This work shows great promise to extend all of our lives.
A TOAST TO FUTURE CENTENARIANS
It is a great distinction to live to celebrate 100 years and beyond. We have learned from this book the attributes and lifestyles of many centenarians who have mastered how to live long and live well. These qualities, shared by our centenarians in differing individual degrees, form the Centenarian Spirit that is so vital to aging excellently. You do not have to be a centenarian to capture, keep, and enjoy the Centenarian Spirit. We can make the most of our lives by integrating some of their attitudes, behaviors, and wisdom into our daily routines at business and at home. Nothing is a better teacher than experience, and our centenarians have freely shared theirs with us.
We hope you will benefit from what these inspirational centenarians have passed along, and that it will contribute to creating a better, more fulfilling life.
Recalling Ponce de Leon’s quest, we can’t help but think that happening upon our centenarians, he surely would have proclaimed he found the proverbial Fountain of Youth.