As I entered the foyer of the Mountain View Care Center, I was struck by how much it felt like a home for many people, rather than an impersonal institution. Friendly dogs greeted us; colorful birds in an aviary darted around, tweeting in their own tongues; comfortable looking furniture invited anyone to sit down; staff dressed in regular, informal clothing; and the air was free of any strong odors of disinfectant. I had never been in an assisted living facility before, so I didn't exactly know what to expect. I was about to meet and interview a 99 year old. Until you get to know older people, they can seem anonymous. It would take some special effort to draw out the memories and life story of a hard-of-hearing, elder Montanan. I wondered whether I would really get to know much about him during our time together.
Ozzie Bennet is a senior resident of the Mountain View Care Center. He advanced in his motorized wheelchair to the conference room at a snail's pace, and looked up to greet us. His weary, clouded eyes peered at us through well used spectacles. As we began the interview, it became apparent how much he relied on his hearing aides, since he could not understand us easily. He was willing to talk about most of his life, though sections of the interview were emotional or difficult to remember, and he didn't independently volunteer much information except to respond to our questions. Considering he is a near centenarian, though, many of his memories were as clear as the fresh mountain air which has been surrounding him all his life.
With so many ingredients making up the soup of his life, it was impossible to cook them all up in one short interview, particularly since dialog was limited by his hearing. Ozzie was born in Springhill, near the small town of Bozeman, way back in 1906, and lived there until he was an adult. He lived with his parents, nine sisters, and three brothers, probably in a small house. They couldn't have had much income because the whole family relied on the father's earnings from tending sheep. I guess that all of the family grew crops and hunted for food to supplement their livelihood, but he didn't talk about this. It's sad that he hasn't been back to Springhill for many years.
After leaving school at the end of eighth grade, he went to work to help his family. Though he never took any extensive courses on mechanics, and never apprenticed, he described himself as “a natural” at fixing cars and machinery, and it came about that he owned his own mechanical shop and worked with farmers who needed tractors and diesel engines fixed. At the beginning of his career, he met a man who was heavily involved in rifle shooting. Ozzie wanted to try it himself, and thus discovered a significant interest which became more than a hobby to him. Not only was he a natural at mechanics, but he was also an unbelievable shot. He became animated as he told us about his Winchester bull gun. He reports that on one occasion, he shot 100 prone, 97 sitting, and 97 offhand. His shooting team was “one of the best” in competitions, he boasted softly, and their awards are in trophy cases at MSU. The sport was, and still is his biggest passion in life. He said that his biggest regret in life was not joining another shooting club when his club wound down.
It wasn't rifle shooting that attracted Ellen Plum to Ozzie though. She had known him since early childhood and they loved each other from the start. They later married. Ozzie did not remember the year or date of their marriage, but murmured that it was “a long time ago.” They lived together in Bozeman and didn't travel much. He became emotional and nostalgic when he spoke of his wife, but didn't give many details about her. Ellen loved the outdoors, and they never passed an opportunity to go camping or fishing. Though they wished that they could've had children, they could not. His sadness was obvious, so we didn't press the point. According to Ozzie, Ellen passed away about five years ago after developing Alzheimer's Disease.
I'm sure that we only scratched the surface of Ozzie's hundred years, but his life became more of a reality for me as we spoke. He is no longer one of the many anonymous people. His memory has proven strong against the battle of age and many a lesson can be learned from his knowledge of life. It was not easy to get to know him, but it was a worthwhile experience to meet him.
