Feature Story Driving Miss Ruth She’s Independent, Funny, Beautiful – and 105 Years Old. February 2007

by Sheila Madden
Images by Russell Byrne

An open heart is like a magnet for love and opportunity. It is the precise key that unlocks the natural flow of giving and receiving. When I discovered this in my own life, things changed forever. I hadn’t learned this lesson fully before my parents died, and so I never got the chance to deepen my relationship with them and to help them in some of the ways that elderly folks need helping. Little did I know that my neighbor, Ruth, was going to provide me with this gift.

Ruth is my 105 year-old next-door neighbor. The first time I saw her she was rolling her garbage cans out to the street with one hand. I was working at my desk in my home office when I looked up and saw a white haired ball of fire hustling around her yard getting ready for the next morning’s garbage pick-up.
Ruth is about 5’3” with a petite figure that could fool you if you hadn’t witnessed its efficiency and strength in getting things done that needed doing. She wears large glasses that form the perfect picture frames for her sharp and alert blue eyes. That day she wore gray wool pants with a black wool turtleneck sweater and white tennis shoes.

I thought it was pretty amazing that someone, in what I thought was her 70s, still had such strength and mobility. I went out to introduce myself. Very quickly I learned an amazing fact. She was actually 97 years old. That was eight years ago.

Ruth turned 105 on September 2006. Up through her 102nd year, she lived alone, cooked three meals a day, and managed her own investments, taxes, and all of the other details of life. She still takes care of all of her investments and taxes, but she now has a caregiver with her who fixes her meals, makes her bed and does her household chores.
The one thing that Ruth hasn’t done for herself in years is to drive an automobile. That, I am happy to say, is my job. Every Friday at 1:15 you can find us on our way to Setsuko’s in Pacific Grove, driving Ruth’s big bronze 1978 4-door Cadillac.

Before Ruth’s back pain started preventing her from walking very far, we’d go to Grove Market in downtown Pacific Grove to grocery shop after she got her hair done.

“Hi, Sweetheart. Are you staying out of trouble?” John, the butcher, would call out to her as we walked in.

Then Charlie, the owner of Grove Market, would come over to take Ruth’s hand and with warm and genuine eyes ask how she was doing. As we worked our way through the small aisles of the market, whispers would be followed by smiles as the word of Ruth’s age spread among the patrons. Those smiles always carried the light of admiration and awe at her agility and for the sharpness of her mind.

I’ve been Ruth’s driver for seven years now. She walked over to our house at Christmas time seven years ago bearing handmade gifts. She is a wizard with her hands. She knits and needle points beautiful things, most of which she donates to the Heart Association Discovery Shop. This day, she came in with holiday greetings and gave me several lovely gifts. She asked me if I’d heard the news about Susan across the street. No, I hadn’t.

“Well, she’s not going to be able to drive me any more.”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah,” she paused slightly. “Say, I was wondering, would you like to be my driver?”

I smiled and without hesitation said, “I’d love to be your driver. What do I do, where do we drive?”

She proceeded to tell me about the usual routine. There was the Friday hair appointment and various trips to the bank, drug store and other places. As she spoke my admiration grew.

“Now, I’ll pay you for doing this,” she said.

There is something really special about a person who knows what they need and works out a way to receive it while giving to someone else in return.

“Ruth, you don’t have to pay me, I’m happy to do it.”

“No, I insist. You know why?” she asked.

“Why?”

“Because it makes me feel more independent.”

Well, it was settled and like clockwork each month I am handed a check. Sometimes it’s $45 and sometimes it’s as high as $120. I have to say, I have no idea how she figures out my “wages” but I do know that she has a definite system and it all works just fine.

In addition to going to the hairdresser and grocery store each Friday, we often venture out to the drug store or the craft shop or the bank at least one other time during the week. It was during these trips that I got the chance to experience her sense of humor.

One day we were at Prim And Proper in downtown Pacific Grove shopping for a gift for one of Ruth’s friends. I couldn’t help myself and I told the women working in the store how old Ruth was. Well, they went on and on about how amazing she is. As we walked arm in arm back to the car she was quiet. Then she looked up at me with those devilish blue eyes and said, “How long do you think it will take them to get over that?”

Another day I walked out to the mailbox with her. She had received a flyer from Macy’s advertising a Men’s sale. A very handsome man was on the cover of the flyer. “Hey, look at this,” she said smiling. “I got a man!”

Some time ago there was an article in the paper about a woman in her 60s who gave birth to a baby. I hadn’t read the article and was full of questions about how in the world this had actually happened. My last of a long list of questions was, “Does she have a husband?” After a perfect moment’s hesitation, Ruth cocked her eyebrow and said in her matter-of-fact voice,

“Well, she had somebody!”

She is priceless, absolutely priceless!

Ruth is an avid sports lover. She started playing golf when she was in her 60s and had to quit when she was 92 because of her “back deal” as she calls it. She loves the game and watches every tournament on television. For over 30 years she has purchased passes to the Crosby, now AT&T Golf Tournament. She, herself, hasn’t gone in years. Every year she gives the passes to her family, to my husband and me, and to our other neighbors Susan and Joe, who have been a part of her life for years. And every year I love hearing the stories of how she and her girlfriends would sit on their folding chairs at the 18th hole at Pebble Beach, bundled up, sipping brandy from Styrofoam cups, and having a ball watching the golfers come in.

Miss Ruth is a woman who has lived a great life, a fun life! She tells wonderful stories of dinner dances with her husband and his business colleagues, ladies’ golf tournaments up at “the club” (The Monterey Peninsula Country Club), driving across the country in the early 1940s in the new Cadillac her husband had bought her for Christmas, and going to Hawaii in the late 1930s. Can you imagine what Hawaii must have been like then?

She also tells great tales of growing up on “the ranch” in northern California, where she learned to cook on a wood stove, grow food, work hard and live off the land. I can tell you that she mastered that stove and can still cook up a storm. I call her regularly for cooking advice and have never tasted a thing she made that wasn’t delicious.

Today Ruth candidly admits that she never cared much for ranch life. In her heart she was always more of a city girl. She left the family ranch in the 1920s and moved to San Francisco to work as a secretary. That may not sound like much today but when you consider that it was only on August 26, 1920 that women got the right to vote, it gives you insight into the heart and courage of this woman. The fact is, whether in the country or the city, Ruth has always been a pioneer in life.

And style? She has great style. She’s always dressed “to the nines,” as my own mother used to say, with soft pink lipstick and earrings to match her outfit. I remember the time I took her shopping at Town Or Travel Fashions in Carmel to find something to wear for her 100th birthday party. There she stood in front of the mirror, holding her blouse up to her midriff and looking over her shoulder into the mirror to see how the pants fit from behind.
“Once a girl, always a girl,” I thought.

When Ruth talks with people about me and my husband Vic she often says, “They’re good neighbors, they’re like folks used to be.”

The truth is, however good I am as a neighbor is because of Ruth. I never knew what it meant to be a neighbor. Before moving next door to Ruth, I lived in places where everyone commuted to jobs and worked 60-80 hour weeks. We left home in the dark and got home in the dark. We never saw our neighbors, let alone interacted with them. On the weekends, most of us stayed inside and slept to get caught up and be ready to start all over again come Monday.

Ruth is the one who epitomizes a good neighbor. Several years ago I needed to fly to San Francisco once a week to spend the day with a client. I didn’t get home until 7:30 or 8:00 at night. There were many times when I would walk in the door, tired and hungry and there on the table would be a tray of home cooked food made by Ruth that Vic had just gone over and picked up.

When I got bronchitis, she made me her famous chicken stew. Last spring she gave me the first rose from her garden. And when Vic is away at softball tournaments, she calls me to see how I’m doing. She’s beyond a good neighbor, she’s a true friend.

I love it when the phone rings and I hear her voice saying, “Sheila, it’s Ruth. Can you come over? I’ve got something for ya’.” It can be anything from beautifully arranged flowers from her yard, to a wonderful warm cookie, or maybe some delicious food that she and her granddaughter Cynthia have cooked up together.

When Cynthia visits, Ruth often invites us over to visit over cocktails. And I mean cocktails the old fashioned way: a drink, usually scotch, on a little tray with a place for putting your pretzels and nuts. One of Ruth’s secrets to living a long life is to have a scotch and water before dinner, then a glass of wine with dinner. She’s my kind of gal.

I think it takes a lot of mental strength to grow old. Ruth’s husband died more than 20 years ago. She recently lost her daughter-in-law and son-in-law. She has outlived almost all of her friends.

She recently told me about another close girlfriend who was part of their “gang” who died at 100. There are the service providers with whom she has developed relationships who have died. She has out-lived her doctor, dentist, accountant, attorney, you name it. That’s a lot of loss!

But she remains stalwart and steady through every situation I’ve seen her confront; she does so with dignity, courage and strength.

One time the power went out during a thunderstorm. I called over to her house to see if she had her lanterns out.

“No,” she said.

“I’ll be right over,” I replied.

We have a set of keys to her house so I went over with my flashlight. There, in the pitch-black den was Ruth, sitting as cool as a cucumber. She wasn’t restless or anxious or worried in the least. If I hadn’t been home, I’m certain that she could have sat undaunted in that dark room for hours.

Another time her heater went out. She refused the portable heaters I offered and insisted that snuggling up to the gas fireplace was plenty of heat for her. She went five days without heat in middle of the winter!

Once when we were driving in the car, she said to me, “Do you know that they make cars now with heaters in the seats?”

“Yes, I’ve heard that they do. I’ve never sat on one though,” I said.

Then, with the wistful worry of a mother who wants to make sure her kids are tough enough for all that life can dish out to them she shook her head and said, “People are getting too soft.”

She, however, is not one of those people. She’s one remarkable and strong woman.

Ruth daily demonstrates an amazing acceptance and grace in the face of what seems like continual loss either of family, friends or of her own ability to do things for herself.

I was at her home visiting the other day and for one of the only times since I’ve known her she revealed her disbelief at not being able to be out and about like everyone else. With a reminiscent smile that didn’t hold a trace of bitterness she said to me, “It’s hard to believe sometimes. I’ve always been such an active person.”

She shared this with me and spoke about being in her den and watching out the window at at the mobile and active people who were often walking by her house.

Every now and then, when she’s feeling up to it, we’ll get in the car and drive over to Rite Aid. I’ll go in and get a couple of chocolate ice cream cones for us and we’ll take a drive along the ocean.

Driving with me in the car is not like walking around herself, but I think Miss ruth enjoys the chance to get out of the house and see what is going on in the world.
I definitely know she enjoys the ice cream cone!

Ruth is a unique inspiration to women and men alike. She is independent, brave, funny and beautiful and she’s filled with a common sense that isn’t so common anymore.

Yes, there is no doubt about it. One of my best moments was that day in December when I got the best job of my life, Driving Miss Ruth. °