Long Island centenarians share their prescriptions for longevity

Seated beneath a large white tent, dotted with covered tables and chairs and festooned with blue and white balloons, Deacon Thomas Parham smiled broadly. He was clearly touched by all he saw and heard in his honor, including speeches by public officials, reflections by relatives and an expansive buffet of appetizers, entrees and cakes provided by New Jerusalem Baptist Church’s hospitality committee.

A surprise party to celebrate the deacon’s 100th birthday, the event drew more than 75 people to the Brentwood church.

"Deacon Parham’s so strong, has his presence of mind, and his presence alone makes people want to follow after him," the Rev. Adrian DeShon Reid said. "But what is super-impressive is his willingness to learn and teach. He’s been a blessing to me more than he knows."

In the weeks leading up to the church’s community celebration, the deacon’s wife, Bonnie Parham, 74, had also thrown a surprise bash for him, with family members joining the festivities in the couple’s Brentwood home and on Zoom.

And We Transport — where Parham had worked for 27 years before retiring at the pandemic’s start — dispatched a parade of honking buses to his home, with "Happy Birthday" emanating from a sound system.

"The last two to three weeks were the greatest things that ever happened to me," Parham said, reflecting on the centennial fetes. "I wouldn’t have missed them for the world."

The trio of celebrations, he said, more than compensated for all the birthday parties he didn’t have growing up as the youngest of 13 siblings in Trenton, New Jersey. At 2, he lost his mother, leading each of his older sisters to take her turn helping raise him as the one ahead of her left home.

Today, Parham is among a small but growing demographic of centenarians whose life experiences aren’t only embedded in their memory bank but inform their personal prescription for longevity and philosophy of life.

"Knowing what I know of life, I just want to treat people the way I want to be treated because in the end, the love you get from others is irreplaceable," Parham said.

More centenarians

Based on U.S. Census Bureau’s data, Long Island last year was home to 624 centenarians — 330 in Nassau County and 294 in Suffolk County, and according to the bureau’s 2017 National Population Projection Tables, which predate COVID-19, 92,000 Americans were projected to be 100 or older in 2020. Worldwide, the United Nations projected that centenarians would number 573,423 in 2020, an increase of nearly 38% from 417,000 a decade earlier.

Long Island centenarians generally hail from diverse backgrounds and walks of life. While some continue to live at home with a spouse, as Parham does, or with adult offspring, others reside in nursing homes. But commonalities abound.

Among those who served in the U.S. Armed Forces, they remain unabashedly proud of their service to the country, a pride, they recalled, that at the time had imbued them with feelings of self-reliance and purposefulness. And in their super-ripe age, some continue to exude an independent streak and resist attempts to rein in their sweet-tooth cravings and unaccompanied ambles within the confines of the homes they share with adult offspring.

While genetic composition plays a role in super-long lives — with many centenarians’ siblings living into their 90s, if not beyond — they generally believe their own personal regimens, like a daily nightcap, have helped them reach their centennial year.

Yet, with their overall frailty and range of health challenges, such as diabetes, high blood pressure and vision and hearing losses, they also recognize — with gratitude — their family’s role in extending their lives.

Citing recent studies, Corinne Kyriacou, associate professor and chair of Hofstra University’s Department of Health Professions, said that centenarians generally age much longer without experiencing functional limitations than younger seniors. Plus, seniors who are ages 95 to 100-plus "score higher on purpose of life satisfaction" (even if they aren’t in good health) than seniors between 70 and 90 years old.

"Limited evidence suggests that extroversion, openness, perceived control and low levels of emotional suppression may also be associated with longer life span," Kyriacou said. (In the fall, after about a nine-year pause, Hofstra University is launching the updated MS in Gerontology: Healthy Aging and Advanced Certificate in Gerontology: Healthy Aging. )

Carol Binetti, 66, is amazed at her 101-year-old father’s emotional strength despite the "life’s challenges" that he has endured, including the deaths of her mother and one of his three children. "The key to his longevity is his good sense of humor," said Carol, who lives with her father, Julian Binetti, in his Malverne home.

For his part, he credits longevity to the raw garlic in his salads and his abstinence from smoking and drinking — although "you can drink a glass of wine when you’ve had a nice dinner," he said. "It’s good for you."

A first-class gunner’s mate in the Navy during World War II, including participating in the Normandy Invasion, Julian remembers his years in the military, especially sending money home for his beloved mother to purchase her favorite accessories, hats.

Today, Julian, who retired in his 70s from his furniture-refinishing business, watches TV to indulge his interests in poker, bowling, tennis and horse racing. In addition, he enjoys weekly visits from Deacon Richard H. Portuese of the Our Lady of Lourdes Roman Catholic Church in Malverne. Together, they talk, pray and take Communion.

Despite her father’s advanced age, Carol said that he frequently asks her why he’s so tired, and when she reminds him "your heart is 101 years old, he says, " ‘I guess I am old.’ "

But as Carol tells it, her father’s age doesn’t affect his daily breakfast, which encompasses two eggs, toasted Italian bread with butter, orange juice and coffee with whole milk. "No low-fat or low-cal," said Carol, who initially moved into her parents’ home more than six years ago to care for her now-deceased mother.

Still 'getting into trouble'

Since her husband died 13 years ago, Huntington resident Philomena Favale, 105, has been sharing her home with daughter, Marie Favale, 76.

Although Philomena’s parents lived 99 years, twin siblings died last year at age 102 from COVID-19 and two surviving sisters are in their 90s, she believes her lengthy life span is partly due to going with the flow, loving herself and downing a shot of Chivas Regal Scotch every night. She also keeps busy crocheting.

"I look forward to 205," she deadpanned.

According to her daughter, Philomena lives her life her way — even when it runs counter to doctors’ advice.

"They tell her she’s diabetic, but she says she’s not and eats everything. Her favorites are Scotch, hamburgers, Kentucky Fried Chicken and White Castle," said Marie, whose father’s death led her to retire 13 years ago from Sears in East Northport, sell her Northport home and move in with her mother. On an as-needed basis, Marie’s two married children assist her in caring for their grandmother.

As the object of Marie’s concentrated attentiveness, Philomena complains about "getting into trouble" for taking it upon herself to "get out of bed" or readjust her own oxygen "to make it right."

While she values "everything my daughter does for me," Philomena said her son, John, who died at age 48 in 1990, remains her hero.

John, who had cerebral palsy and was unable to walk or talk, used Morse code-like dots and dashes to communicate and a special typewriter from IBM. To provide John with the experiences he sought, Philomena did everything from carrying him into high school on the first day of classes to successfully advocating for his acceptance into a Boy Scout troop through the United Cerebral Palsy Association of Nassau County in Roosevelt.

John’s achievements still fill her with pride, including graduating from high school and, with braces and crutches, standing and walking more than 10 steps alone to become a poster boy for the cerebral palsy telethon in the 1950s.

"He brought everything to life for a lot of people," Philomena said.

Centenarian Christina Carroll, who lives in Jefferson’s Ferry Life Plan Community’s nursing residence in South Setauket, said she reflects frequently on the days gone by, from her youthful summers and holidays at her grandparents’ New Jersey farm to her stateside military tour of duty as a nurse at Mason General Hospital, predecessor to Pilgrim Psychiatric Center in Brentwood.

"It was an important part of my life, and it was very sad in many cases, because the boys were no longer realizing what was happening to them" as a result of their psychological scars. "There were a lot of injuries that they had to live with the rest of their lives," said Carroll, who graduated from nursing school in 1943. Twenty-seven years later, she received her bachelor’s degree from SUNY Oneonta.

Other highlights of her century-plus life, she said, were meeting and marrying Martin Carroll ("the love of my life"), whose death in 1987 ended their 41-year-old union, and moving from Jackson Heights, Queens, to Syosset to raise their family. Today, that family encompasses four children, six grandchildren and six great-grandkids.

"At first, it doesn’t seem possible to be 100," she said, but it makes sense when she thinks "about all the things that happened so long ago."

While longevity runs in her family, Caroll said that beyond not smoking and always exercising, she attributes her life span to a positive outlook.

"I lived and enjoyed life, family and friends," said Carroll, who plays the tambourine in a musical group. "I definitely like people."

Describing himself as a "God-fearing man," Parham points to his spirituality — not his eating habits — as pivotal to his longevity.

"I eat just like anyone else," said Parham, who became a deacon in 2010. "I’m a lover of sweets, and my wife is after me all the time."

Still driving but "not yet" using a cane, the World War II vet has held diverse jobs throughout the years, including working in a junkyard ("I knew that wasn’t for me"), repairing radios and televisions, managing a dry-cleaning business, driving a school bus and, most recently, serving as a bus attendant to oversee the kids’ behavior.

With nine children, including three sons who died as adults, and "four or five great-great grandchildren," Parham said he stopped counting grandchildren when the number reached 32.

Widowed twice, he married Bonnie in 2005 — after they had been a couple for about 20 years.

"My wife now is a jewel," Parham said. "It’s not how you start, but how you finish."