THE OTHER night, in one of the lanes in our neighbourhood in Dublin, the sounds of a very lively party drifted across the still air. Animated chatter and the sound of clinking glasses were evidence of a large group of people thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Ah, perhaps it’s the students, I thought, but on further discovery, found that it was a 1930s-style party being given by one of our neighbours to celebrate her 90th birthday. The lady in question is Aileen Chapman, someone who has a voracious appetite for life and loves nothing better than a good party or a trip away. She has travelled so much in recent years that our nickname for her is “Mrs Dubai” . She’s also still driving her car.
In 1981, she was a passenger on an Aer Lingus flight from Dublin to London. It was the only time an Aer Lingus aircraft was hijacked and the man responsible, a former Trappist monk, wanted the third secret of Fatima revealed. Our friend and neighbour took the whole episode nonchalantly. She thought it was all bit of a hoot, but was delighted when the aircraft eventually landed at Le Touquet airport in northern France and the passengers and crew were rescued and able to have a good party to celebrate their release. Mrs Dubai was in her element.
Another neighbour of ours, who is the same age, is a whizz at computing and if I want a serious discussion on a topic like cloud computing, he’s the person to whom I turn.
All this set me thinking: are the 90s the new 60s? Examples abound of people well into their 90s who fortunately still enjoy good health and are reasonably well-off, who make the most of what’s on offer.
Last year, I spoke to Dr TK (Ken) Whitaker, a truly remarkable man who devised the economic plan that set Ireland on the road to economic regeneration in the early 1960s.
I was working on a book about old Drogheda, and one afternoon I had the most delightful and lengthy conversation with Dr Whitaker about the Drogheda he grew up in during the 1920s.
He reminded me just recently that he is now in his 95th year and that such longevity must be in the family genes, as his mother lived until she was 100. When Dr Whitaker was young, the family home in Drogheda was the appropriately named Paradise Cottage. He has remarkably wide-ranging memories of Drogheda all those decades ago and that afternoon conversation was almost like recreating the town exactly as it was, 80 and more years ago. His memories of the town are crystal clear, down to the smallest detail, of people and places and the fourpenny cinema matinees.
As an aside, he mentioned that he has always loved fishing and still enjoys going to his beloved west of Ireland to pursue his favourite sport, despite the unseasonably cold weather there recently.
Recently, I was talking to a former taoiseach, Liam Cosgrave, now 91. He was in charge of the government between 1973 and 1977, a grim time of dire economic conditions and widespread unrest and atrocities when the Troubles in the North were at their height. His public image then was of a gruff and rather stern man doing his solemn duty for his country. Occasionally, a humorous comment would slip out, as during the Fine Gael ardfheis in May 1977, when he suggested that one or two of our blow-ins could usefully blow out.
The truth is that Liam Cosgrave has a totally different private persona; he has a wonderful sense of humour and loves a good story or amusing tale. He also has an amazing memory for people and places, spanning many generations and much geography. But he was a little doubting of my thesis, saying, “I don’t know about that,” even if he is a perfect candidate for inclusion.
Another well-known public figure who beyond doubt qualifies and who’s full of zip is Maureen O’Hara, 91 in August. She lives in Glengarriff in west Cork and very recently has been active in promoting her classic film festival this summer, as well as her legacy centre in Glengarriff, which will include an international film academy. A Hollywood icon to her fingertips, this native of Beechwood Avenue, Ranelagh, Dublin, where she was born Maureen FitzSimons in 1920, is still movie glamour personified.
Louis le Brocquy, widely regarded as the most outstanding Irish painter of the past century, is also from Dublin, where he returned to live with his wife, Anne Madden, after they had spent many years in Provence. He was born on November 10th, 1916, the same year as Ken Whitaker.
One side-effect of the emergence of the 90-year-olds as the new trendies have been various efforts to find Ireland’s oldest working person.
Last year, for instance, a gentleman called Maurice Gaffney revealed on RTÉ Radio that he was still working as a barrister, aged 93.
Stories of great longevity have long been in existence.
I'm always reminded of JP Hayden, who founded the Westmeath Examinerin Mullingar in 1882 and who edited it for the next 72 years, probably the longest editorship in Irish journalism. He was a rare example of great longevity among people in the media.
Then just the other day, I was looking at a marvellous new booklet on Donegal's Farming Heritage, produced by the heritage office of Donegal County Council.
There, on page 18 was a 1927 photograph of Miss Jane Clark of Raphoe, busy wielding a scythe. She was 95 at the time and looked a very active lady.
If anyone feels like celebrating these remarkable achievements, one place to go is the Friends of the Elderly in Bolton Street, Dublin, any Wednesday afternoon. Then you will see and hear the Bolton Street Band, described as the world’s oldest boy band.
One of its members is Sean McGuinness, 92, who has had a very successful 78-year-long career as a musician, having begun at the tender age of 14. Not so long ago, he played to an admiring fan, Dame Vera Lynn, ahead of him by two years, and now aged 94.
I find it so encouraging and inspirational to see so many people very active well into their 90s. And as with Liam Cosgrave, perhaps the key ingredient is a good sense of humour, a wonderful prescription-free tonic.