Who is the oldest relative in your family, and what is their story?

[Mitchell]

Today is my great aunt Henrietta's 94th birthday. Born on Sept 22, 1910, this woman has had quite an amazing life. She was born in Rosvardof Austria, now Poland, and lived in a small frame house with her brother (My grandfather) Mother, and Father. When she was 4, my great grandfather left Poland for the US to set up a livelihood for them. My grandfather, great grandmother, and great aunt didnt join my great grandfather in the US until 1920, and at that time, they entered the US not knowing or speaking a word of English. My great aunt married her first husband, Sol, and had two children, Janet and Arthur. Tragically, Arthur developed luekemia, and passed away when he was 15. Not long after, heartbroken by the loss of his son, Uncle Sol died of a heart attack. After Sol's passing, Henrietta went to work for my grandfather in his oven production business, and worked with him until the company folded in 1974. She married her second husband, Eugene, shortly after I was born in 1970. They ended up moving to Florida, and lived there for many years. Unfortuantely, Eugene died of cancer in 1981. Henrietta ended up moving back to the New York area, and has lived with her daughter Janet ever since. Now 94, the woman has experienced the World War 1 in Poland as a little girl, coming to this country not knowing a word of English, the loss of a son, and two husbands, and is still fairly lucid at age 94. What's more, until recently, when she was diagnosed with mild Altzheimer's, she has never been physically sick a day in her life!
Aunt Henrietta is probably one of the most amazing people I have ever known, and has been somewhat of an inspiration to me, when I've heard the stories of her life.

Mitch

 

[EvlJester]

The oldest person in my family was my great grandma. she died a few years ago after she made it to be 104. she was born Nov. 23, 1898

 

[TklDuo-Ann]

Well, this is probably cheating. But, oh well.

The oldest member of my family who's still with us is my great-aunt Rose. She's on my mom's side. She's a real sweetheart. She lives in her own home in upstate NY and, aside from a bit of high blood pressure and artheritis, she's doing quite well. She was born near Palermo, Italy in April of 1912, the third of seven children. They moved here to the states when she was 11 years old. She was married to her husband Achille (Archie) two years later. (They married young in those days.)

Rose did seamstress work from the house, while Archie sold and repaired shoes at a little shop he opened down the road. They never had any children. But, they had lots of fun over the years. Archie passed away back in the mid 80's. Since then, Rose has continued to live her life. She has a great time with her brothers and sisters, most of whom are also full of life. They go out to dance and party all the time and take regular trips to Atlantic City, from which they always come back with more money than they left with. Lucky buggers! She's a great lady.

. --------------------------------------

On my dad's side, though no longer with us, was my great-uncle Conrad. He passed away about 7 years ago at the ripe old age of 102. He, too, was very active and fairly healthy right up to the end.

One of our favorite stories about him is a hunting trip he decided to take out to our old family land in Sullivan County, PA...in the midst of the mountains on a snowy winter day. There were a few of the family planning to go out on a Saturday morning. As always, he needed to get a jump on everyone. So, he decided to go out on Friday. He hiked up the mountain, wandered a bit, then set up his blind. A few hours later, he got himself a big old buck and was pretty happy with himself. However... It was now snowing like mad and starting to get dark. Plus, he was pretty tired. It was about 3 miles of rough terrain back to the camp.

"Houston, we have a problem." Right?

The next morning, everyone else showed up, to find his truck at the family compound. They could tell that he'd gone out a day early. (No surprise there.) There were no tracks because of the snowstorm that had blown in, dumping nearly a foot of snow, and no answer to calls. So, they got the cops and everyone within earshot or a phone call to come and organize a search...figuing on finding him injured or dead somewhere on the mountain. Two hours later, chopper up and teams ready to head out, they heard a shout from the edge of the woods. There he stood, covered in blood, buck laying next to him, yelling for someone to "Help me get this big-ass thing on my truck. And get me a drink!".

Turns out, he'd decided to not risk coming down in the storm. So, he gutted the deer, fixed himself a venison steak for a late dinner, melted snow to refill his canteen, curled up inside the deer for warmth and spent the night on the mountain. When he woke the next morning, he headed back...covered in the deer's blood and hauling the "big-ass thing" down the mountain. After a couple belts and a cup of hot coffee, he was ready to go back out with everyone else.

He lived his entier life like that. Quite a guy! Oh, btw, did I mention that he was 91 at the time? 😎

Ann