My grandfather, who died in December at age 101 (and a half).
His father died at 99, all of his brothers died in their 90s (one made it to 97), and I think two of his sisters died in their 90s as well.
He had the best memory of anyone I have ever met (or seen on TV :)). He could remember things like what his friends’ wives were wearing at a dinner party in 1932 and what they had had on the menu. He had worked for Paramount Pictures in the 1930s and 40s, and remained a film buff until his dying day. You could ask him anything about any obscure actor and he’d say things like, “Oh, yeah, I remember her. I think she married a dentist in 1947,” and you’d look the actress up on wikipedia and find he was right. In his 90s he got a laptop and spent his days googling silver screen actors and watching old tv programs on Youtube.
The Christmas he was 100, he had to spend five days in a hospice while repairs were done to his house, and the nurses there could not get over how old he was because he was walking on his own (albeit with a walker) and was so alert and full of personality. He insisted on taking meals in his room rather than the cafeteria because, in his words, he didn’t want to be stuck next to some old person.
The last story I heard about him: In the last month of his life, he knew he was dying and made his own funeral preparations, and he told his youngest daughter that he wanted to be buried in his jogging suit.
“Aw, no, Dad, you should be buried in your best suit,” she told him.
“What do I want to do that for?” he answered. “I want to be comfortable!”
The oldest person I knew was our neighbour next door but one. She lived to be 100, got her telegram from the queen, and then pegged out shortly afterwards, about 10 years ago now. I think it was just the prospect of reaching the milestone that had kept her going, and after that she thought, “Now what?”
Depends on where you draw the line at “know well”. My maternal grandmother definitely qualifies, and she lived to 92. I also had a great-aunt who I think hit 101, but I only ever saw her for a few hours at a time, every few years. Both of them, as well as my maternal grandfather who was 88, were as sharp as a tack until the day they died (well, Grampap was losing it, to the extent that it was occasionally possible to beat him at cards, but if you hadn’t known him before, you’d never realize).
We also had a neighbor who I think was 100, and I guess you’d say I knew her well enough, since she’d always give me a big hug whenever she saw me. She was a bit into her dotage, but not too badly (she was still able to live in her own home, with my mom visiting once or twice a week to help her out with odds and ends).
And honorable mention to one of the professors here, who’s somewhere in his mid-80s. Despite retiring over a decade ago, he still publishes more than almost anyone else in the department, he rides his bike 6 miles each way over hills to work every day regardless of weather, and whenever the department organizes a hike, he’s always the one who wants to keep going for the entire ridgeline. I would say that I’d love to be in that good shape when I reach his age, but heck, I’d love to be in that good shape now.
My great-grandmother in Arkansas died at age 92. I was 7 years old at the time and had met her a couple of times. She used to give me “coppers” (pennies).
My last remaining uncle turns 92 next month.
I’m sure I’ve met someone older, but those are the only two off the top of my head.
She was in good health, quite spritely and lived alone until she was 104. Then she started hallucinating that someone was in her house, and she would sometimes wake up and hear people singing church songs. The family decided to put her in a nursing home, and losing her independence seemed to hasten the downward mental spiral. Mentally, she comes and goes, and is more “gone” these days. I’m not sure if she’ll make it to 108 (in Feb). But then again, we’ve been shocked year after year that she’s still kickin. She used to make remarks that she can’t believe just how OLD she is! The past few times I’ve visited her in the nursing home though, she hasn’t woken up. She just sleeps all day. I know she’s ready to go.
My grandpa (her son) says he doesn’t want to live past 100.
My best friend’s grandma, whom I’ve met several times and spoken on the phone with when we were roommates is now 112. I just checked and she’s currently the 24th oldest person in the world. She was a opinionated/spunky person and although it seems like she is now slowing down a bit, it will be a long while yet before she stops.
My wife’s great-grandmother died at 102 and I even got to dance with her when she was 99 at our wedding. My sister-in-law’s grandmothers died at 104 and 106, but I only met them at my brother’s wedding.
My grandmother was born in Kentucky in 1882 and died in Portland in 1975 at age 93, outliving her husband by 40-some years. Her father was born in Ohio in 1858 and died in Portland in 1952 at age 93. Along the way, he worked on an Ohio River steamboat with his father and was postmaster of Castle Rock, WA. I am very close to a 2nd cousin, once removed, who was born in 1920 and is now 92. She can cite chapter and verse of our family genealogy, while I can barely remember my own mother’s name.
At present, we deliver Meals on Wheels to elderly folks, one of whom is 96 and sharp as they come.
My great-aunt will be 100 in July, and there’s a family reunion to celebrate. She may mention something about the festivities on…Facebook. (I bet there aren’t too many centenarian FB users.)
Yeah,I doubt there are many 105 year olds counting their Facebook friends.But it is surprising how many older people use Facebook;I have one relative approaching their 80s who uses it pretty frequently,and I have another relative nearing his 90s who I think also uses it.It just all goes to show how the stereotype about old people being afraid of technology isn’t as true as people tend to think.
My great-aunt Verna on my mother’s side lived to 100. She was quite lively well into her 90s, until she broke her hip at age 94. She slowed down a good bit after that.
She was 88 when her kid brother, my grandfather, died. He’d been living alone in a big old country house since my grandmother died a few years earlier, and he’d hidden the family silver in various places in the attic. So she led me up to the attic, which had to be well over 100 degrees in the middle of a Kansas summer, and we rooted through the various places under the eaves where he had stashed a serving tray here, a coffee service there. She didn’t seem to be having a problem with it at all, as we talked and joked our way through our scavenger hunt.
My great-uncle Sam on my father’s side died maybe 7 weeks before his 100th birthday. His grandkids had planned that bash months ahead of time, and I’m still pissed at them for cancelling it after he died. (I couldn’t do much about it - I live in Maryland, and that’s the California branch of the family.) Sam, who was quite the raconteur, would have appreciated the idea of a good party in his honor, even if he couldn’t be there for it.
Sam’s brother, my grandfather, lived to age 94.
My father turns 87 next month; my mom is 85. I expect them both to make it past 90, though I doubt that either of them will make it to 100. At any rate, I expect to have a pretty long life myself.
