In my oral history book The Last Leaf: Voices of History's Last-Known Survivors, I interviewed over three dozen final eyewitnesses to, or last participants in, historically important events. All of the "Last Leaves" were octogenarians, nonagenarians or even centenarians. Their longevity is remarkable considering the average lifespan of an American born in 1900 was less than fifty. The Last Leaves have defied great actuarial odds. Readers often ask me, "What is the secret to their longevity?" The answer is simple – activity, both physical and mental.
For example, the famous entertainer Kitty Carlisle Hart, the final lead performer in a Marx Brothers movie, told me, "I gave a concert on my 94th birthday, and am already booked for my 95th...I've been singing all over the country recently...Soon, I go to Palm Beach for a two week engagement." Colonel Norman Vaughan was the last man to travel to Antarctica with Admiral Richard Byrd in 1929.
He participated in the grueling Iditarod dog sled race until he was 87. For his 89th birthday, he climbed the 10,302 foot Mount Vaughan (named for him by Byrd) in Antarctica, and was planning for a return visit on his 100th birthday when he died. "I'm proving that centenarians can still do great things," he noted. The 104 year old Hal Prieste, the world's oldest Olympian (he won a diving bronze at the 1920 Games), continued his daily exercise routine. In 2000, he flew twenty hours to Australia for the Sydney Olympics. Frank Buckles, America's last World War I soldier, recently turned 109. He kept a bucket of dumbbells by his chair and refused all assistance when walking. "I'll do it myself," he told me. "I gave up driving tractors and cars when I turned 102."
The Last Leaves also remain mentally active. Harry Mills, the final person to hear the first commercial radio broadcast in 1920, continued to repair radios well into his late nineties. "Everyone's headaches end up on my [work] bench," he says, pointing to dozens of antique receivers in his garage. I called the final suffragette, Ruth Dyk, to set up an interview. While we were on the phone, I heard the 98 year old woman flipping through her calendar before announcing, "I can see you in three weeks – I have no free time before then." When I arrived at her assisted living home, she had the current Time and Newsweek on her table.
As I unpacked my interview notes, she proceeded to question me about my publishing goals and educational qualifications. Finally, the last Ziegfeld Folly performer, Doris Eaton Travis, graduated from the University of Oklahoma almost two decades ago at age 88 with a degree in history (what else?). She returns to New York City once a year to dance for adoring crowds at the Broadway Cares / Equity Fights AIDS fundraiser. The 106 year old performer confessed, "I always have two or three goals for me, and I work every day."*
None of this activity by the Last Leaves should have surprised me. When my great-grandparents visited when I was a boy, my great-grandfather Bill, well into his eighties, rode my bicycle and climbed a tree. He golfed until he was 95. Bill and the Last Leaves exemplify the old adage, "Life is meant to be lived."
Stuart Lutz is the owner of Stuart Lutz Historic Documents, Inc., a firm that buys, sells, and appraises historic documents, letters, and rare manuscripts. He has written for American Heritage and Civil War Times, and has appeared on National Public Radio. More on Stuart Lutz and The Last Leaf can be found at TheLastLeaf.com
Photos (in display order):
Kitty Carlisle. Colonel Norman Vaughan, courtesy of Gordon Wiltsie. Doris Eaton Travis
*Doris Eaton Travis died today, May 11, 2010, aged 106.