Offhand I think my great-grandfather, who was born in 1888 and who I met once when I was ten.
My maternal grandmother’s father, Bert, was alive when I was born (1970) and died when I was about four-ish. I have vague memories of him. He was born in 1901.
I don’t know too much about him, save for that he was a lay minister in the Methodist church and was the school principal at Petersburgh High School in Petersburgh, IL for decades. Grandma oft spoke lovingly of him, saying that he was simultaneously outraged and terribly amused by her and Aunt Jean’s youthful shenanigans (which were legion). But at the same time resented him because he left his entire estate to her and Aunt Jean’s younger brother, born 13 years after Aunt Jean (Grandma’s younger sister) because patriarchy or something.
Grandma also had a photograph which she claimed was of one of her ancestors, would have been my great-great-great-grandfather, who had served in the Civil War. But now that I think about it, Grandma loved a good prank and she may have just been pulling my leg and it was just a fun artifact she found in an antique shop somewhere.
The oldest person I knew reasonably well was my grandmother, b. 1915.
The oldest person I met and remember was my great-grandmother, b. 1898.
The oldest person I corresponded with was an aunt, or more specifically my great-grandfather’s sister-in-law, b. 1889. I probably also met her when I was a kid, but I don’t remember it.
My great-grandmother was born in Arkansas in 1880, and died in California, in 1970, when I was 20. Her family left Arkansas for Indian Territory when she was young, and nobody knew why till I did some family tree research and found out that her father and his brother had murdered their brother-in-law and her father had taken off to avoid prosecution. His brother stayed in Arkansas, and went to trial, but was found not guilty. I don’t know the details. In my mind, it was because their brother-in-law was mistreating their sister, but that’s just my thought.
Bobbie (real name Elsie) and Ernie were relatives of my dad but I don’t remember the particular branches of the family tree. They were my great great aunt & uncle, born in 1899. My mom would take us to visit when I was a kid. I can’t remember when Ernie died but Bobbie passed sometime in the early 90s.
My great-great grandmother (born in 1876) died when I was 7 months old, but I didn’t get a chance to meet her, so she doesn’t count.
Of the great grandparents I remember, the oldest one was born in 1892 and died in 1986.
My paternal great grandmother. She was born in 1895. We visited her often when I was young (she lived less than an hour away) and died when I was six. I remember just a few bits and pieces about her, but none of them were “historical” - just ordinary daily stuff.
A family friend, who was born in 1898. I met her a number of times (she was a friend of my husband’s family) before she passed away in 2002 or so.
Both of my grandfathers died before I was born. One grandmother was bedridden and I only recall meeting her once, when I was 3 or 4 (she lived in another state, with my aunt). The other grandmother passed away when I was 21. I didn’t know her all that well, as she lived in well over a thousand miles away from us, but she’d have been a few years older than the friend mentioned above - likely 1891.
About, I guess, seven years ago, I talked a bit to, when visiting her beautiful, open to tourists, home, Mother Divine.
According to a serious biography of her late husband, Mother Divine’s mother in law, and father in law, both were adult slaves before being freed by the outcome of the U.S. Civil War.
Now, her husband, Father Divine, took the position that God has no mother.
Some may suspect, from this, that Father Divine must have had terrible parents, but the small amount of evidence concerning his parents, in my last link, gives no hint of deficient parenting.
Great Grandma Katherina who immigrated from Odessa Ukraine in year I can’t recall offhand.
I met her in 1974 when I was a young tyke for the first time. She was in her 80’s at that time I’m told.
Not many memories of her beyond that.
My father’s mother’s mother, who was born in what is now the Czech Republic in 1882. She died in 1971, when I was 12. I was told several times that during my first Christmas, “Grandma M” expressed amazed gratitude she had lived long enough to see her first great-grandchild, and offered several updated versions of the “my happy last Christmas” sentiment as my siblings arrived in 1961, '63, and '65.