A tiny but growing number of Americans live to age 100 or beyond. A pair of CU centenarians (and two on the cusp) recall the 1930s.
With one little suitcase packed withhomemade clothes, Eleanor CarlsonFlanders (Jour’38) arrived at her fourth floorroom in the female-only residencehall then known simply as “The Dorm.”It was August 1934 and the Yuma, Colo.,resident was amazed by what she saw.
“My dorm room was the best room I everhad,” Flanders said in an April interview,recalling the scenic view of campus fromwhat is now called Sewall Hall. “I thoughtthe Flatirons were going to fall on me.”
With even greater awe, she glimpsed ashower for the first time.
“I wrote my brother and said, ‘Dearlittle Billy, we have a bath here thatcomes down like rain!’” said Flanders, theoldest of seven siblings who grew up on afarm severely affected by the Dust Bowldrought that devastated the Great Plains.
Today there are nearly 300,000 livingCU «Ƶ alumni. Flanders is amongthe robust few who can tell firsthand talesof Depression-era campus life, and she’samong the tiny contingent of alumni —estimated at about 60 individuals — whohave reached age 100.
When Flanders hit the century markon March 27, 2016, Easter Sunday, shebecame one of about 72,000 Americancentenarians, a group that accounts for just0.02 percent of the population, accordingto 2014 Census data. Though centenariansare still rare, their ranks are expanding andthey’re part of the fastest growing segmentof the U.S. population — people 65 andolder, according to Winifred Rossi of theNational Institute on Aging (NIA).
Even at 100 and beyond, life can be goodoverall, according to Rossi, deputy directorin NIA’s division of geriatrics and clinicalgerontology. NIA-funded research hasfound that some centenarians experienceddelayed onset of aging-related diseases, suchas heart disease or arthritis, she said. Othersexperienced no aging-related diseases at all.
“Further,” Rossi said, “many centenarianstend to maintain their ability to functionindependently, largely escaping disability.”
Flanders, who lives in a retirementcommunity in Broomfield, Colo., didn’tthink much about turning 100 until abouta month after her birthday.
“Yesterday, I decided I felt like I was100,” she said. “I was tired, and bridgewent poorly.”
Eight decades have passed sinceFlanders and her fellow CU centenariansattended the university.
Her first day on campus was an excitingstart to a new life — one that has generateda century’s worth of memories. In herjunior year she met Laurence Flanders(Fin’38; Law’40), her future husband. Together,they lived through World War II,raised four children, worked and playedgolf and competitive bridge.
Flanders’ favorite recreation at CUwas attending tea dances for non-Greekmembers held in the Memorial StudentUnion (predecessor of the UniversityMemorial Center and now the economicsbuilding) along Broadway for 10 centsevery Monday evening. Required courseworkwas broad, but practical.
“Everyone had to take two years ofgym, pass a spelling test and pass a swimmingtest to graduate from CU with anydegree,” said Flanders, who majored injournalism because she was enamored bythe adventures of Brenda Starr, a comicstrip character who was a reporter.
Helen Duhon (Jour’38), also 100, wasFlanders’ classmate in the journalismschool, then housed in the basementof Old Main. She was in the Tri-Deltasorority and wrote news for the studentnewspaper of the day, The Silver and Gold,and a person-on-the-street column called“What Do You Think?”
After a full career — including 21 yearsas assistant editor at the Colorado Alumnus,ԴǷ Coloradan magazine — Duhon,originally from Nebraska, leads a quietlife in «Ƶ. She enjoys company andhaving people read to her, especiallyfrom newspapers.
“Life seemed pretty busy and it movesalong really fast as you get older,” she said.“You don’t think about being 100 at all.”
There are far more women centenariansthan men, consistent with mortality trendsby sex. According to Census data from2014, there were 58,468 women and 13,729men centenarians in the U.S., or 4.2 womancentenarians for every man.
On the cusp of turning a century oldis Basil Indermill (Pharm’40). Heturns 100 next May.
Age has only increased his love for life.
“I feel alive,” he said with enthusiasm in aphone interview from his home in Oceanside,Calif. “I wake every morning anxious tosee what is going to happen during the day.”
Indermill, one of eight siblings, movedto «Ƶ from his family’s ranch in TwoButtes, Colo., near the Kansas and Oklahomastate borders, in 1936, and recalls livingoff 85 cents a week his first year at CU.
He enrolled in the pharmacy college (nowpart of CU Denver) intending to follow inhis older brother’s footsteps. But alongthe way, through some elective courses,he discovered an interest in woodworkingand machinery. It grew into a livelihood,and Indermill operated a machine shop inBakersfield, Calif., for 30 years.
Today, he lives with his daughter Kathy,66, and enjoys walking, croquet, exploringthe internet and writing.
“I wouldn’t trade me for anybody,” he said.
Eleanor Flanders' 10 Secrets to Living to 100:
1. Happiness: It’s up to you.
2. Curiosity: Always go.
3. Open doors: Walk on through.
4. Mistakes: Your best primerfor learning.
5. Tomorrow: Optimism and dreamsgive you hope.
6. Friends: It takes a village.Stay involved.
7. Gratitude: Your guardian angelworks 24/7.
8. Generosity: Cast your breadon the waters.
9. True you: Be a unique pieceof the puzzle.
10. Smile: It’s your first gift to others.
For all the variety in their lives, today’scentenarians (and those soon to be) allshare memories of World War II.
Martin Trotsky (Acct’42), 98, arrived atCU in the depths of the Great Depression.In 1938, he was a 20-year-old freshmanfrom New Haven, Conn., and was livingoff $15 a month — enough to dine on skimmilk and spaghetti, as he put it.
A star athlete in baseball and basketballwho took business classes in the Woodburybuilding, Trotsky was part of the 1940basketball team that won the NationalInvitational Tournament. He joined afraternity and met his future wife, ұǰ(Mus’43), at a fall dance.
In his senior year, World War IIcompletely changed Trotsky’s life. Herecalls listening to the radio in Decemberand learning that Pearl Harbor had beenbombed. He called out to the six othermen in the Phi Sigma Delta fraternityhouse dining room: “You better get yourdraft cards ready. We’re at war.”
Trotsky joined the Marine Corps andspent four years after graduation as an aircombat intelligence officer and captainin the Gilbert, Marshall and MarianaIslands in the Pacific.
As he approaches 100, Trotsky recallsthe time solemnly, reflecting on people heknew who were killed in battle.
“I was very lucky,” he said from theDenver condominium where he andGloria, 95, live.
Flanders views the war as a test ofher resilience and strength. While herhusband spent three years in both theAtlantic and the Pacific on the battleshipNevada after it narrowly escapedthe Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor,she spent much time alone, taking careof their first child and their home inLongmont. The couple’s third anniversarywas on D-Day; he was anchored just1,000 yards offshore of Utah Beach.
“I faced the possibility that he mightnever return,” she said, adding that hemanaged to send her flowers.
Flanders said the independence shelearned at CU «Ƶ helped her getthrough the war and helps her enjoy old age.She uses a computer daily to email friends,look up her score in bridge and even tomanage her money on a spreadsheet. Shelives alone, contentedly, and after acenturyof living still looks forward to what’s next.
Photos courtesy Eleanor Carlson Flanders