FRANKFORT, Ind. — On a weekday afternoon, Susan Thomas slowly works to push her mother, Mary Isabel Farlow Ransopher, in her wheelchair down the halls of the Wesley Manor retirement home.
Thomas's older sister, Jane Ann Dunn, leads the way.
This isn't an uncommon sight in a facility such as this, where children visit their elderly parents. But what's less common is that Thomas is 78, and Dunn is 87.
Ransopher, a 111-year-old woman originally from Russiaville, Indiana, is the oldest known living person in the state and part of a small, unofficial club of centenarians sprinkled across the globe.
Despite her age, Ransopher's memory has not left her. She still recalls the days growing up in the midst of World War I, a time before electricity was a basic utility, and the arrival of the Spanish Influenza.
"Did I ever think I would live to be 111? Oh my land, no," Ransopher said. "Of course, I never thought I would live to see 100."
Her age comes as a surprise to many. But in Ransopher's family, living well into their late 90s wasn't uncommon, Ransopher said, pointing to grandparents who lived to 95 and 98 and her father, who was 92 when he died.
If you ask Ransopher, the secret to longevity is deeper than just good genetics: It's good food and "the Good Book."
The oldest person in Indiana
At 111 years old, Ransopher's body can't quite keep up with her sharp mind. Most of the use of her legs has left her, her hearing is minimal, and within the last year, her eyesight has begun to fail her.
Thomas wheeled Ransopher into a large common room available for residents, with mostly complete puzzles coating the tables and a piano that Ransopher is known to play nestled in the corner.
"Can you hear the roaring of the air conditioner?" Thomas asked Ransopher.
Ransopher took a few seconds to process the question, then told her daughter she can.
"Does that bother you?" Thomas countered, loudly and slowly.
Yes, it does, Ransopher replied, leading the two daughters to find a smaller, quieter room for their mother to comfortably have a conversation.
"Hearing and eyesight, those are things that wear out when you live to be 111, and those are the pitiful things," Thomas said. "She has a quality of life because her mind is as good and as sharp as ever, and I think she looks good, but the eyesight, and reading and watching TV, knowing what you're eating without being told ... It has probably been one of the hardest things for us as a family to deal with, because we've really never had to deal with blindness. Hard of hearing, yes, for many years, but there's hearing aids and all that."
Although Ransopher lost some of her sight in her left eye to glaucoma in the 1990s, Thomas said Ransopher's eyesight has just begun deteriorating over the past year, leaving her with only the ability to make out an object's shape.
Yet Ransopher said she never felt "old" until she had a daughter begin collecting Social Security more than two decades ago.
Ransopher is included in the book 'My 100-Year-Old Friends'
Gerry Justice, an Indianapolis-based writer, has met with Ransopher multiple times over the past few years, incorporating her stories into his pending book "My 100-Year-Old Friends," which he said will hold a collection of biographies from centenarians from across the country.
There is no official database for oldest Indiana residents. But Justice said he believes the title belongs to Ransopher. Having spent years traveling for his collection of stories, Justice said he hasn't met anyone else in Indiana as old.
"All we know about our oldest residents is what we read online," Justice said. "Mary was my first real subject for this book, and every time I visit with her, I leave with more information. I instantly fell in love with Mary after our first conversation: She's always dressed to the nines, she is an intense listener, and she's never afraid to correct people. She's just a lovely person."
Ransopher first moved into Wesley Manor Village in 1994, she said, when the health of her husband, J. Marland Ransopher, began to deteriorate. Although her husband died in 2006, Ransopher was able to maintain her life in independent living until a year ago, when her eyesight began to slip away.
Ransopher grew up as a farm girl in Russiaville
Born in Paoli, Ransopher said her family moved to her father's family's apple orchard farm, Farlow's Orchard, in Russiaville, which was started by her grandparents in 1885. Her father, the only boy among his siblings, took over the family farm, raising five children with Ransopher in the middle as the only daughter.
Growing heritage apple varieties like Grimes golden, Maiden blush, Jonathan and McIntosh, Ransopher said the family incorporated the fruit into everything: canning, drying, baking the produce to last year-round.
Ransopher said she grew up just as any other farm girl would have in the early 19th century, meaning performing minimal farm chores despite her pleas.
"I wanted to help milk, but they wouldn't let me milk cows. My dad always said, 'You go back to the house. Your mother needs you,' because I was the only girl," Ransopher said. "I was allowed to help in the hen house, gather eggs from the 100 hens we kept, which you would bring the eggs to town to sell for money to buy groceries with."
Raised in the Quaker church, Ransopher said her family lived simply, taking trips only to visit family in southern Indiana with life centered around church, school and work.
When the Spanish Influenza of 1918 hit Howard County, Ransopher recalled how the concept of isolating to prevent its spread was unheard of, given telephones hadn't arrived to their county and no other means of communication were available.
"I remember our neighbor lost two teenage children to the flu. This was when you went to your neighbor for things, and the neighbor came to our home looking for turpentine, which we didn't have," Ransopher said. "She ran all over town and to other neighbors looking for a remedy, because her brother had the flu and died. A few weeks later, she died, too. I don't remember anyone staying at home like we did during the COVID-19 pandemic, but I do remember the death that came from the Spanish flu."
Very little technology and few modern amenities impress Ransopher. She's never owned a cell phone, and she first learned to drive in one of the earliest Ford Coupe models. One thing that did amaze her was witnessing man's first steps on the moon.
Having lived through historic world wars and growing up as the middle child nestled between four brothers, much of Ransopher's life has contributed to her toughness. Could those conditions be contributing factors to her longevity?
"It might've made me tough," she said with a laugh. "But we lived very conservatively. That was the way it was back then."
Good food, the 'Good Book' and love
Born on Christmas Day in 1912, Ransopher said her family never celebrated her birthday.
"We didn't grow up celebrating very much Christmas," she said. "It was a very, very conservative upbringing that revolved around our church and family dinners."
Toys were sparse, Ransopher recalling a wagon the five of them shared and a bicycle that was purchased for her brothers. In the early 20th century, men's and women's bikes were built with different frames to accommodate the clothing styles of the era. A women's bike featured a low step-through frame to accommodate the flow of skirts and dresses, while a men's bike boasted a higher frame with a center bar closer to the seat.
"I can remember when my dad bought the boys a bicycle, not me," she said. "I had to learn to ride a boy's bicycle. You'd be surprised how you could stick your leg under center bar and ride it."
Despite how little her family had and what little emotion was shown, Ransopher said she was raised with love. Much of those traditions, heavily rooted in a religious upbringing, were profound in the upbringing of her own children, as well.
"Today, we feel more comfortable to tell people we love them, or to smile in photos, but that wasn't my mother's generation," Dunn said. "Those are things I think have changed, and are so good, that we are now able to show emotion and to say, 'I love you.' Their generation maybe didn't say it out loud, but they meant it through their acts and gestures."
Whole foods and wholesome values are two things Ransopher said she believes have contributed to her long life. Both could be found in one of her father's house rules: no medicine allowed.
"My father wouldn't even allow aspirin in the house," Ransopher said.
Although many of Ransopher's family members have lived to be well into their late 90s, her mother died at 87 after being admitted to a hospital for heart issues. Ransopher said she believes her mother could have lived longer had she not been issued medicine in the hospital in 1970.
At 111, Ransopher said she takes only one prescribed pill a day, for her blood pressure.
Thomas said her mother still loves French fries, cheeseburgers, any sweets and a daily diet Pepsi.
"I have had people tell me, 'Oh, I bet your mom is on a strict diet and eats really good.' I'll say, Maybe in her younger years, but it's all really in her genes," Thomas said. "As she got older, it was nothing for her and our dad to stop at Arby's all the time.
"When we brought her down here to the assisted living wing at Wesley Manor, she was drinking probably a six-pack of Diet Pepsi a day, so we made sure to request she have one still at lunch and dinner. That's very unusual for a 111-year-old person, but we said no matter what, give it to her. It's lasted this long; you don't take anything away from a 111-year-old."
If Thomas had to put her finger on what has led to her mother's longevity, she believes in a trifecta of sorts.
"I feel like it's being born on Christmas Day, being given the name Mary and growing up on an apple orchard," Thomas said. "Living with the real saying of 'an apple a day' has to have contributed somehow."
A strong memory that won't fade
Despite the senses that have declined with age, Ransopher's memory seems as sharp as ever, recalling strong emotional moments from her childhood and weekends this year spent with family.
Dunn and Thomas ensure their mother still is able to attend milestone events, such as a recent wedding. But the sisters struggled to recall the day it took place. As the pair wondered aloud, Ransopher chimed in over them: It was May 4.
"If you don't know, just ask Mom," Thomas and Dunn laughed.
Having a parent still around as you grow into old age is rare, but it isn't something Ransopher said she would wish for her own children and her grandchildren.
"I don't want any of my children to live as long as I have," Ransopher said. "I don't want them to have to give up things and suffer, but I don't want them to die before I do, either."
Ransopher said despite the amazement that comes from living so long, she misses many things, like reading books and driving. She most recently drove a small, red two-seater Honda sports car. Her favorite car was a 1955 Ford Thunderbird.
One of the other downsides to a loss of hearing and sight, Ransopher explained, is that she is unable to watch or listen to the news due to the speed in which newscasters talk. Unless a family member or volunteer is able to sit down and read to her, it is difficult for her to keep up with current events.
After a long life filled with many hot rods, Diet Pepsis and memories with her loved ones, Ransopher said she knows her time left is limited. When her last day on Earth comes, Ransopher hopes she is remembered for her kindness, having strived to live each day by the Ten Commandments.
"I would like to be remembered as doing good, but I haven't done as good as I'd like to," she said with a laugh.
After a long afternoon spent reminiscing, Ransopher is slowly wheeled back toward her room, greeted by every resident and nurse she passes.
Eleanor Pershing, a nurse at Wesley Manor, stops to say hi to Ransopher, who recalls that Pershing has a birthday coming up. Pershing explains that everyone knows their celebrity resident.
"You're the oldest person in Indiana now I hear," Pershing says to her. "You're going to put Wesley Manor on the map: Come to Wesley Manor and you'll live forever."
Ransopher said she doesn't know about that, but what she does know is that supper is waiting on her: a submarine sandwich, a slice of cherry pie and a cold Diet Pepsi.
Jillian Ellison is a reporter for the Journal and Courier. She can be reached via email at jellison@gannett.com. Follow her on X at @ellison_writes.
