Oldest Old (7 images)

Angelo Dundee, 88, Oldsmar

There is an art to being the man-in-your-corner, and there may not be a living man who knows that art better than Angelo Dundee. As a 23-year-old, he remembers holding on tight in a C-47 flying low and fast over U.S. troops in Bastogne, France, pushing life saving supplies out the door to soldiers holding battle lines against the Germans. As a 53-year-old, in the sixth round of the Rumble in The Jungle, he yelled “Don’t play with that sucker,” to Muhammad Ali. And just that quick Ali covered up, tiring a young George Foreman out by letting him throw ineffective punches. As a 60-year-old, he scolded Sugar Ray Leonard; “You’re blowing it now, son!! You’re blowing it!!” after the 12th round against Tommy 'The Hitman’ Hearns. His words are still famous today. Leonard pummeled Hearns in the 13th. Wars cannot be won, and champions cannot be made, without men like Dundee. Ask any of the 16 world boxing champions who have had his voice in their head in the teetering moments between making history and being lost to it. “Where is Angelo?” Dundee says now. “Always in the background, in the shadows, until he is exactly where you need him, exactly when you need him.”

Lucille Markley, 101, Clearwater

As a young girl Lucille Markley spent Sunday mornings on the women’s side of a deeply traditional Mennonite church, in the traditional long plain dress. Now Sunday morning starts in a bar full of former thieves, drug dealers, drug addicts, convicted murderers and Hell’s Angels. To celebrate her recent 101st birthday, her “Saloonatic” friends took her on a Harley ride to a Chinese buffet. The ingredients for a rich Sunday morning for Markley has long been a good band and good people. The mix began with a C melody Saxophone and a young girl’s love of music somewhere around 1918. Her grandfather, a Mennonite Minister, saw how much she loved music and gave her permission to join the Reformed Mennonite church, which had a little band and allowed music to be part of the service. The Salvation Saloon features The Posse, a southern rocking worship band to beat all worship bands. They feature two paroled lifers on guitar and harmonica, and play to a room full of good, saved Christians. Lucille loves The Posse, and The Posse loves Lucille. “Jesus said it doesn’t matter if you’ve been forgiven for a short time or a long time,” she says. “Forgiveness is forgiveness.”

Fay Piquet, 80, Pinellas Park

Fay Piquet is on a first name basis with Henry Ford. As in; “Henry would make you a car in any color, as long as it was black.” Or: “I get 20 miles to the gallon in Henry’s car.” He has earned the right. He has spent thousands of hours communing with Henry, channeling his spirit as he lovingly hand sands fenders, smooths dents, and matches paint. Over the years he has resurrected one classic automobile Lazarus after another in Henry’s honor. His prize possessions are a 1926 Model T and a 1931 Model A Ford Coupe. He has never, would never, buy a car that was not made in America. His last new car purchase was a 1981 Plymouth Horizon Miser. He traded in a big Chrysler for a car that would get better mileage. He sold the Miser when he learned it had a Volkswagen engine and was assembled in Canada. Since then he has kept the age of American automaker dominance alive, one rusty piece at a time. “I don’t drink or smoke or gamble. I just like to make old American cars look pretty.”

Gussie Shelby, 100, St. Petersburg

Gussie Shelby sums up her life, 100 years and three months, from her bible. Psalm 90, verse 4. For a thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by. She remembers her hundred years like one long summer day. An airplane flies overhead, on final approach to Albert Whitted. She closes her eyes and tells the about the first time she saw an airplane, in 1916. She ran under it to catch it if it fell. “Now I get tired of hearing them all day long. Coming, going, coming, going.” She moved to south St. Petersburg in 1918 as a skinny 9-year-old black girl. “When I was a little girl you didn’t go past 15th going south ... because white people lived all further back there.” She pauses and thinks a thought that makes her eyes harden. “And if you wanted water they had a place for the black people to drink water and a place for the white people to drink water. Don’t care how you spent money there, you couldn’t drink water from the white place.” It seems like such a short time ago, like a day that has just gone by. Now there’s a black man in the White House. “I never did think that would happen,” she says. “You know where that come from?” She points toward heaven. “That came from God. That didn’t come from people. God put that into people. God did that.”

Raymond Fowler, 90, St. Petersburg

Raymond Fowler, 90 , was married for 65 years to a woman who he believes never uttered a curse word in her life. When she passed away in 2006, he began wearing a suit and tie every day. The ladies took notice. And he noticed they noticed. Now he has a cell phone with a plastic Playboy cover, full of phone numbers for “lady dance partners” and “friends.” But the real (newest) love of his life is Sharon Fullmer, a 60 year old aspiring model. She was working at Marks & Morgan Jewelers the day Fowler came in to buy a handful of circle pendants for some of his lady friends. That weekend, he had 30 tickets to see the Harry James Orchestra. Would she like to join the party? She would, and during the night they found themselves dancing cheek to cheek. “My God, that really sends me,” he told her. “Where does it send you?,” she whispered in his ear. “She hasn’t been out of my mind or my heart for a moment since then.”

Yetti Sterensis, 80, St. Petersburg

As far as anyone can tell, Yetti Sterensis cannot remember the day in 1940 that her parents sent her out of Poland with forged papers so she could survive as a Christian in a world that was killing Jews. She does not remember marrying her husband in a German camp, or arriving in New York. Nothing remains of the day that husband suddenly died, leaving her a 48-year-old widow with two children. Alzheimers has erased all the jobs she worked to raise them alone, along with the memory of how she filled the emptiness in her home when they grew up. The life she keeps alive happened in the years between her arrival in America and the birth of her first child. She was a rising opera star off-Broadway. On happy days, the little piece of life that was truly her own echoes down the halls of the assisted living facility where she lives. Perfect Italian opera, in a classically trained voice that still sings strong. Her experiences during the Holocaust are preserved in the Florida Holocaust Museum. All her children remember her life of sacrifice as a mother. But only she remembers the names of the operas that made her a star.

Tyler Sturdevant, 81, Sun City Center

When Tyler Sturdevant was 70, his grandchildren challenged him to a race during a family picnic. They ranged in age from 4 to 15. He beat them all. “I figured if I could beat them, I could beat someone my own age,” he says. Over the next ten years he won scores of gold medals from the Senior Games and became a nationally ranked sprinter. When he turned 80 last year, he decided to try competitive swimming. So he typed “swim butterfly” into Google and carefully read how to do the stroke. He looked up the time he would have to beat to win a gold and headed to the pool. On his first try he beat it by two seconds and has been a top competitor ever since. “I guess when I turn 90 I’ll start doing triathlons,” he says.