Tower's tales unmask 'new old age'

A new book profiles the hip lifestyles and drama of a Tampa high-rise's residents.

Anthony McCartney | The Associated Press

May 19, 2008

TAMPA - The tower looks like a lot of the others that overlook winding Bayshore Boulevard, although a bit more stooped and a little older.

The description would be apt for many of Canterbury Tower's residents, whose average age is 86, but appearances can be deceiving.

At the dinner tables, the chatter can focus on war, the Great Depression, high-school years and former spouses. But residents and an author who spent years at the retirement community say it would be a mistake to think the best years are behind them.

It is an experience that many more Americans will face in the coming decades as the post-World War II generations age, dramatically increasing the nation's population of eldest seniors, those 85 and older.

Author Dudley Clendinen, who during several years spent 400 days and nights at Canterbury while his mother lived there, said A Place Called Canterbury: Tales of the New Old Age in America is intended to show the vibrancy that can be achieved with a good living environment. He also said his book should teach younger generations what to expect as their parents grow older.

"The hurdle it has to jump is the perception that old age is a glum, tired experience," Clendinen said.

Anyone for cocktails?

It certainly isn't at Canterbury, where most residents live in their own apartments, host cocktail hours, and some of the women hatch plans to pose for a tastefully done nude calendar.

A failed condo project, the tower opened in 1977 as a nonprofit retirement facility and boasts a fitness center, small library with contemporary books, and a dining room and balconies that overlook Tampa's iconic Bayshore Boulevard.

If one of the roughly 150 residents fall ill, they are moved to the health center, which offers around-the-clock care for all manner of senior maladies.

Clendinen is careful to note that Canterbury stands out among retirement facilities because of its location and staff.

"We all feel like we're on a cruise ship," said Sarah Jane Rubio, one of the book's central, and most colorful, characters.

Rubio, 81, and another resident, Lucille Foster, 83, quickly agreed.

Both women are among the residents Clendinen profiles in his book.

Part memoir of his mother, the book also peeks into the daily lives of the tower's residents.

"This book is not intended as a primer," Clendinen said. "It's a serious subject in the guise of a nonfiction soap opera."

He chronicles the inescapable health problems of older adults, but many of the characters remain vibrant throughout.

Their lives have been dramatic, including a rabbi who fled Nazi Germany on the eve of the Holocaust and a nurse who treated severely wounded soldiers on the shores of Normandy after D-Day.

Rubio and Foster say that's the magic of Canterbury.

"I just shudder to think what we'd be like now," Rubio said. "We wouldn't be doing anything like what we're doing now."