Stonewall, It was difficult to get the page, even when I put your link in browser. There were a lot of pop ups; then a page that required sign in. I tried from another angle...still too many pop-ups. So when I finally got to the article, I just copied it. Hope that's OK.
Woman still full of energy at 111 … or is it 108?
At first, Frances Street refused to own up to her age.
“Give her a Mountain Dew and she'll talk,” said Ilene Elliott, administrator of Grace Healthcare in Asheville, where Frances lives. “I've never seen her not do anything for a Mountain Dew.”
After the woman sipped her soda, a family member asked, “Frances, how old are you?” but the woman refused to budge on the numbers, even if this confession could bring her fame and accolades.
“I'm 108,” she said, sitting all decked out in jewelry from her wheelchair at Grace Healthcare.
“You better tell the truth,” chided Sue Hallums, her niece from Greenville, S.C. She turned to me and a group of guests and said, “She was never one to tell her age.”
Records at both the nursing home and the Census Bureau put Frances at almost 112, born on March 28, 1897.
If she makes it to this date, it could mean she's the oldest person in the state, according to various sources. The former titleholder was Emma Tillman, another North Carolinian who died in 2007 at 114, making her the oldest person in the world.
The International Committee on Supercentenarians reports more than 80 people aged 110 or older in the world, almost all of them women.
The fuss about Frances's age and all the people present to celebrate her longevity brought her to tears.
“This is rare,” Sue said. “She never, ever cries.”
“Thank you all so much,” Frances said in her soft, whispery voice.
Frances Street grew up near Greenville, the baby of seven children and is the only one living. She graduated from high school, married and pursued a job as a licensed practical nurse in Asheville.
While she never had children, she enjoyed a wonderful and joy-filled life, her relatives said last Wednesday during their visit.
Frances smiled at everyone and would begin talking on various topics, having a hard time hearing all of the questions asked. She lost both legs to poor circulation, but has maintained good health otherwise.
“I love to exercise,” she said, moving her upper body and arms from the chair, as if dancing to a rap song.
“She's exercised all her life, even before it was ever popular,” Sue said. “She'd also eat only one piece of brown bread with meals.”
And truth be known, Frances enjoyed her evening cocktail — a nightly gin and tonic.
Another passion of hers is reading and looking good. She never let people see her hair when it turned gray, preferring dark dyes and wigs. And she always wore pretty clothes and tons of jewelry.
“We had to take some of it off,” Sue said, pushing back the sleeve of her aunt's arm to reveal six or seven bracelets. Mardi Gras beads draped the woman's neck.
“I'm trying to be pretty, but I can't,” Frances said, drawing laughter. Her kin said she gave up lipstick last year, but had been a girlie-girl all of her life.
One thing she can't do is cook. “She never learned,” Sue said.
Frances perked up and joined the conversation. “I hate to cook and couldn't cook water.”
This lively, super-senior is rare in myriad ways. She's the only member of her family who's a Republican and has voted a straight ticket all of her life.
She also still has an eye for good-looking men.
“I got a boyfriend,” she said, winking. “I might marry him. It would be the second time for me.”
She was speaking of one of the staff members, Sue said. “He really does so much for her.”
“He sure can kiss,” Frances said, enjoying the laughs her comments bring others. Sue said her aunt was widowed in middle age but always had male suitors.
“They all adored her,” she said. “There's just something special about this lady.”
The staff at Grace agrees. “She's just full of joy and happiness,” said Candice Smith, marketing director.
This, in addition to her healthy habits, is probably why she's lived so long, Sue said.
At the close of our interview, we tried again to coax her into admitting her true age.
“I'm 108,” she said, stubbornly.
When relatives said she might be honored if she'd tell the truth, Frances did an about-face.
“I'm 112,” she said. “I'll have to place that number on my brain. I'll be 200 if I get something.”
