Reflections on a wonderful century, and hope for the new millennium
Published on December 29th, 1999
STONEHAM, MA - Mr. James Arthur Mahoney stands in his room at Bear Hill Nursing Center and gamely puts on his millennium baseball cap. The hat is white with a pink rim, and when he bows his head just so, you can see an actual digital readout counting down the days, the hours, the minutes, and even the seconds until the year 2000. Mr. Mahoney lifts his head back up, and his mouth pulls back into a smile that all but says, "Let the countdown begin."
"I've never been interviewed before," he marvels. With a degree of fascination he gestures to the gentleman who is his roommate and currently sleeps in the bed next to his own. "You should interview him too," Mr. Mahoney suggests. "He's 104 years old."
Indeed, Bear Hill Nursing Center is filled with folks who have practically charted the entire path from the beginning to the end of the century. Mr. Mahoney, a man who smiles easily and laughs much, is but a wee babe in the woods compared to some of these folks, but for the sake of intrigue his true age will remain a mystery. Here are a few seemingly simple, random, historical details that transpired from a conversation that took place with Mr. Mahoney one cold morning earlier this week. Weigh them all, and see if you can do the math.
1. Think about this one the next time you make toast or drop a few Sweet 'n Lows into your coffee. "If you could get a pound of butter or some sugar, you were fortunate," recalls Mr. Mahoney. "You were very lucky. Absolutely, absolutely. Sugar was out of the question back during World War II. A pound of butter cost a dollar, and that was high. Both sugar and butter were a delicacy."
2. There were no long Sunday drives in his day. "We were given stamps for gas," says Mr. Mahoney. "You used the stamps to buy gas. You were given enough gas to go from your house to work, and you couldn't drive any time else." And what was Mr. Mahoney's first car? "A Ford."
3. He and his wife Rose were married for fifty years until she passed away five years ago. Like a true gentleman from another time, he speaks highly of his soul mate in a reverence that, unfortunately, is not much heard from in today's dysfunctional day and age. "The best thing I ever did was marry her," he mentions proudly. "Absolutely. I would gladly do it all over again if the occasion arose. I'm tellin' ya, boy, she was marvelous."
4. What was the Depression like? "Just as bad as you think it was," he says with a knowing chuckle that implies if only the rest of us knew. "We had to tighten everything up. Period. You didn't go to shows, you didn't eat out, you didn't do anything. You couldn't do it. I had two kids. I was working two or three jobs. One job I had I had to go to from seven in the morning until three. Another job was from three until eleven. I'd work on Fridays from eleven at night until seven in the morning. On Saturdays I would work from twelve at night until twelve on Sunday afternoon. My daughter tells me that is why I am in the condition I am in now." When you do the math, it comes out to roughly seven days a week, sixteen hours a day.
5. Did he ever get to meet the president? When asked this particular question, Mr. Mahoney laughs again and craftily answers, "I've never met any presidents, and they've never met me either." When asked who his favorite president in his lifetime has been, he initially declines to answer. When coaxed, he reveals that his favorite presidents are "Hoover, Truman, and Roosevelt." When asked about his impression of Bill Clinton he laughs his trademark laugh and offers to show you a Clinton joke that he has printed out and posted on his bedroom wall. Without missing a beat, he makes the leap from Clinton to another beleaguered commander-in-chief and says, "Nixon, now he was a tricky one."
6. Throughout the twentieth century, so many achievements have propelled America to levels that once existed beyond our forefathers' collective imagination. What does Mr. Mahoney consider to be America's finest moment of the 1900s? "That's a very broad question," he responds, "but I'll tell you the quickest one that comes to my mind. When we landed on the moon. That was impressive and amazing. When I was a kid, going to the moon was so far-fetched you wouldn't even breathe it." And where was he when Armstrong took one small step for man, one giant step for mankind? "I was down here," he jokes.
Have you guessed Mr. Mahoney's age yet? Perhaps you have arrived at a number quite below the centennial mark. You would not be far off. It was the original intention of The Stoneham Independent to seek out a resident at Bear Hill Nursing Center who was indeed 100 or older--and trust that more than a few are living there, alive and well--but as we draw closer to "The Year That Begins With a Two," we can't help but realize that the Mr. Mahoneys of our community have seen it all, as well. In all frankness, Mr. Mahoney confides that the attitude of today's people pretty much is "the hell with everybody, hooray for me." Mr. Mahoney does not just remember a time when butter was a luxury, three jobs per person was not uncommon, a trip to the moon was a cosmic pipe dream, presidents weren't synonymous with punch lines, and spouses regarded each other with an affectionate reverence. He embodies it. Despite his fun digital baseball cap, Mr. Mahoney dismisses the Y2K excitement with a wave of his hand and a look on his face that can best be summed up as "pshaw." In truth, he claims he will be in bed by ten on New Year's Eve, two hours before Dick Clark's ball touches down in Time Square. After all, he says, what's the big deal? Will people be all excited about the new millennium on, say, May 15th? Indeed, what is just another new year on the calendar when you have lived through most of the triumphs and tragedies that have led us to this moment in time?
The Clinton joke, by the way, was very funny. And, oh, speaking of that hat. What did it say as he bowed his head and it ticked downward to what would be the final second on Friday night? It said, "Five days, twelve hours, twenty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds. Fourteen seconds." Thirteen...twelve...eleven...imagine, by the time you read this article, how little time will be left on that hat sitting festively on top of Mr. Mahoney's head.
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