DIANE MAKAR MURPHY Secret of life from 102-year-old: Don't worry; be happy



Small, black, with glasses and not a line or wrinkle on her face, Marie H. recently celebrated her 102nd birthday. I introduced her in my Tuesday column. She lives on her own in her Youngstown home. Below is the abbreviated transcript of our conversation.
Q. Mrs. H., what's your oldest memory?
A. What is my oldest memory? You got me there because right now, you know, you don't think about that.
Q. Do you remember when you were a little girl?
A. Yeah, in a way. I went to church. I went to school. We didn't do too much travelin' around because our mother didn't let us go. ...
Q. You grew up in Virginia, right?
A. Yeah, yeah. See, my mother only had four girls. ...
Q. What kind of games did you play?
A. Well, we played ball, you know how kids are. We sat around and talked and had games. We didn't do nothing [bad] because [my mother] wouldn't allow us. My mother was a very Christian woman, and she wouldn't allow no kind of stuff around. Now, in the afternoon -- we didn't have no watch in the South; we was poor -- and my mother said, 'When you see that sun goin' down, you come home.'
Q. We did that, too.
A. Did you? [laughs]
Q. You have a 102 years to choose from. What's your best memory?
A. What is my bestest memory? I don't know what is the best one. All of them about the same.
Q. Really? How many children do you have?
A. I only had three kids, but none of them livin'. ... My daughter worked at Southside Hospital, and she passed about five or six months ago. She died up there. She just dropped dead. I had one boy in our service. He was in the Army when he died in the No. 2 war. [Mrs. H., incidentally, has forgiven me for an error in Tuesday's column, and I hope you will too; she had three children, not four, as I wrote.]
Q. World War II? Did that break your heart?
A. Oh, it's just one of those things. What you gonna do? You can't say, 'You can't go.' If they say, 'Come,' you better go. That's right. So now, a lot of 'ems goin' over there. For what? Pretty sad.
Q. What's the hardest thing about living to be 102?
A. It wasn't hard. It was easy. ... I took it day by day, and I never thought of it. ... I never worry about it.
Q. What's the best thing about living to 102?
A. Well, I didn't have no hard times. I did pretty good.
Q. You look good. ... You don't have any wrinkles. How did you do that?
A. [laughs] Very few colored people have wrinkles. ...
Q. What are some changes you've seen? TV and cars and all kinds of changes.
A. What did you say, car? I didn't have no car, no way. My husband had a car, but I never could drive. Wherever I wanted to go, he'd take me. I didn't have no trouble with that. I didn't have no trouble in my life, no trouble with nobody. Never been to jail. So many people letting their kids run up and down the street. ... They're not dressed; they're not clean. ... The least you can do is get up and clean your children. ...
Q. You said you don't go to church because you don't get around very well. But when you did go to church, where did you go?
A. Tabernacle Baptist Church.
Q. Do you miss going?
A. Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. ...
Q. Would you go to church if someone took you?
A. Oh no, I can't, not with this leg.
Q. Are you going to have to go to the hospital for that?
A. They want to put me in the hospital. [A doctor] wanted to go and put me in a nursing home. I don't like that. I told him, why go to a nursing home when I got a piece of home here?
Q. How long have you lived here?
A. Forty or fifty some years. ... I'm gonna stay right in my own home and die here. ... I enjoy my life.
murphy@vindy.com