TOWANDA - Meet Irma Wilhelm.
Irma turned 96 last month. Really ... 96? This lady who likes to chit-chat, and flash the bright smile? Who walks all over the place - "I want to be free to go as I want!" she declares.
Yes, she's 96. She wears those years well. And they recently brought her a special honor.
Those nine-plus decades are much like those of anyone who grew up long ago - years of trudging to school in the snow, woodstoves, farm life. But those are the years that are slipping away from us, that fewer and fewer folks remember. And, like anyone, Irma puts her own special spin on them. We should meet Irma - and meet someone special.
"People don't know how easy they have it nowadays!" she declares.
With roots in New Albany, she now lives in the Personal Care Home of Memorial Hospital, in Towanda, recently moving there from Brooklyn, N.Y. This morning she sits in her bright room with potted plants on the windowsill and quilt decorations of an angel, bunny and teapot on the wall. A fluffy toy cat sprawls on the back of her chair, a stuffed dog on the quilted bed. Her niece and her husband, Marie and Gene Retter of Sayre, sit with her.
Irma was born in Germany, one of four children of Herman and Marie Bendt. She had a brother, William, and two sisters, Giesela (today Giesela Robinson of New Albany) and Meta Chilson, who also lived locally and died in March.
In Germany, Herman farmed and worked as a mariner, tending fires on military vessels. They immigrated to the United States when Irma was 8. "My brother was 15 and he wanted to get over here because in 16 they draft the boys and he didn't want to go to war," she explains.
They sailed for 10 days, entered through Ellis Island and went to Wilkes-Barre on a train. Irma came down with the measles on board the ship, then Meta got them on the train. "I'm telling you!" Irma declares.
Herman worked in the mines four years. Irma started school and also began learning English. "When you're young it's easy to learn," she says. "And Mom picked it up pretty good, too."
Irma liked school, especially gym and learning to write music. "And I was sorry I had to leave there."
But "the mines got bad," she recalls, so her dad bought a 115-acre farm in New Albany and moved the family up. They rolled up their sleeves and got to work.
It was old-time farm life. The family had four or five cows, a couple horses, one or two pigs, chickens and geese (the main course at big dinners). Marie remembers butchered animals hanging from a tree.
The farm and garden, about 100 by 150 feet, fed them well. They canned applesauce, peas, carrots, string beans, meat. They made blood pudding, liverwurst and jellies. They picked gooseberries and currants, and Irma's mom baked bread and churned their own butter - there's nothing like warm bread and butter!
For Irma, days followed a routine: up in the morning, feed and milk cows, go to school, come home, chores, supper, homework, bed. If the summer was dry, you hauled in water.
And winters - "winters were cold!" she remembers. The house wasn't insulated, so they might take a warm brick to bed to keep warm. In the morning, Herman started a fire in the kitchen stove - that and the parlor stove were the only heat. They weren't always safe - even in later years Marie remembers her grandfather banging on the stove pipe to put out a fire inside. But they survived.
There was no electricity, which meant no lights. They used kerosene lamps. Entertainment? A crank-up Victrola played music.
The girls walked to school, 3 1â2 miles away in Overton. The roads were mostly dirt, up and down hills. "It was cold!" Irma remembers. Winter mornings might start below zero. "We got pretty much snow!" she says. It might reach her knees - and she was wearing a dress and galoshes - but she just kept walking.
Their dad got a horse and buggy. They just as well could have hitched it up and rolled along to school, nice and easy-like. But ... all their friends walked. And in the 1930s, like now, kids wanted to fit in. So they walked too.
Well, they did ride horses once. They and their dad went as far as the blacktop road, then he left the horses at a nearby farm. When the girls came back in the afternoon, the snow was getting deep. So deep the horses refused to walk through it. So they stayed overnight with the other farm family. (No word on how worried the Bendts must have been when the girls didn't come home. There was no phone to contact them.)
"That was really the old days!" Marie declares.
And this brings us to something Irma's very proud of - in eighth grade she had perfect attendance. "I just wanted to go!" she says. "I wanted to make one perfect year." And through snow and cold, over hills, day after day after day - she walked. She made it. The whole year.
It was a three-room schoolhouse, with grades one to three and four to six downstairs, and seven and eight upstairs, 20-25 students in all. Irma attended four years, with Miss Roberta Houseknecht as her teacher. All those years, she was the only one in her class.
"I didn't like history!" Irma states. "Everything else I liked."
The school had pot-bellied stoves, and Irma thinks they had to haul in water. "We played baseball in the road," she recalls. "There wasn't much traffic. ...
"Those were the days!"
She finished at 16, after eighth grade, and went out to work. She moved to New Jersey and then Brooklyn, doing housekeeping and later, cashier work.
In Brooklyn, Irma got in touch with a German family she'd known in Wilkes-Barre. She went to visit them one day and happened to shake hands with their son Frederick.
"You ever hear of love at first sight?" she says. "The strangest feeling goes through your whole body!"
Irma still waves her hands today just thinking about it.
They married in 1939. A more recent photo shows them standing in a flower garden, Fred's arm around his wife. Both had thick, white hair.
They would share 58 happy years and raise two children, Louise (Nelson), who lives in Chesapeake, Va., and Fred, from West Chester, N.Y. Irma now has two grandchildren, Kim and Claire, and three great-grandchildren, Paige, Kyle and Emily.
Irma, once a little immigrant girl who couldn't speak English, later went on to learn typing, keypunching and computers and spent 17 years with the New York City Office of Management and Budget. "I enjoyed that very much!" she says. Fred, in the meantime, did quality inspection work.
Today, she misses home but says the PCH folks are friendly. She enjoys the music, bingo and exercise programs.
Speaking of exercise - Irma even goes out and walks up to the grocery store and on the riverwalk.
"Someday I'm going to walk the whole thing!" she declares.
Her family treated her to dinner last month for her birthday, and she even got a state House citation from Rep. Tina Pickett, honoring her long, productive life.
They've been - and still are - years of change and challenge, work and learning. Memories ... and love.
Meet Irma Wilhelm - and see how well she wears those years.