They’ ve fought, loved and endured— praise for the trailblazers

An epiphany on a plane helped change the life of Pip Nielsen

I DON’ T know about this story revealing an epiphany, but it goes somewhere close. About 30 years ago I boarded a plane in Melbourne, en route to Cairns, to holiday and to catch up with a former school friend. No thanks to my tardiness, an affliction I have since overcome, I was lucky to get a seat. Single at the time, and in my early 20s,I was hoping for a seat next to a gorgeous young man who would find me equally attractive( it would make the long flight worthwhile ). Oh, the frivolity of youth( and over-ingestion of American TV ). But I was young once. Full of high spirits for what may come, I made my way to my economy class seat, which happened to be the middle in a rowofthree. I glanced at my travelling companion sand was grateful I had a Plan B, a good book. The young man in the windows eat had his head in a nerdy science magazine, and airline-variety headphones jam med in his ears( yes, we had them in the 1990 s ). An elderly gentleman was in the aisle seat. I don’ t know how old he was in years, but he was bal ding and had a hearing aid. As I squeezed my way past his legs, he smiled and said ,“Hello, love .” I returned his greeting but did not want to converse, beyond pleasantries, with this old man. Not at all. The young man did not acknowledge me. Boy, had I lucked out on seat allocation. The short story is that this flight turned out to be one of the most enjoyable, rewarding and meaningful three hours of my life. The gentleman was keen to converse, and I acquiesced. He regaled me with a snippet of his life story. I had the privilege and honour to sit next to a World War I I veteran, a prisoner of war, a father, a grandfather, am an who had nursed his dying wife. There was so much more, but space won’ t permit there st of his story here. His was an adventurous life that included incredible daring, immense tragedy, and equal doses of greatandrottenluck.An erudite man, he was also a gifted story teller. How he survived to be old( and sitting next tome sharing his story !) I shall never comprehend. This wasn’ t exactly my Plan A, it wasbetter. I didn’ t know it at the time, but conversations like this would lead me to one of the best jobs I have had in along line of occupations. I am privileged to meet with and get to know truly, deeply (occasionally madly ), older people. When people ask me what it is, exactly, that I do, I tell them, simply, I interview old people. The quizzical looks

tell me I need to provide further explanation .“Is it down with old people and record their life stories.” I do a little more than that, but that’ s the gist of it. My work has taught and continues to teach, understanding. Regardless of background, heritage, circumstance, luck or eminence, every interviewee has told an incredible life story. Some are now affluent, some are pensioners. Others were affluent once. But one’ s level of financial independence is not a measure of how well someone has lived their life. My interviewees remind me of that all the time. The common thread is that each one is, and has been, resilient. Our elders have weathered the big storms of life and overcome all odds; they have made it where others did not or have yet to arrive, tool dage. They have encountered tragedy, death, illness, viruses (many a corona virus), depressions, recessions and world wars. Some have accepted hand outs, most have not. They have blazed many a trail. They have loved, and they have lost. They deserve much respect, far more than a society that ac claims youth affords.

I remind myself of this when the old bloke in the car ahead lingers a little too long at the lights after they have turned green. I bite my tongue when the gentleman travel sat 60km/hina100km/hzone, and( sometimes) in the righthand lane. He has, after all, run his race. I will be in the slow lane one day too, with the grace of God, and fair winds. It is International Day for Older Persons tomorrow. There is much to celebrate.