Hansen: Centenarian celebrates with women, wings
BY MARC HANSEN • REGISTER COLUMNIST • March 13, 2008
John Persinger turned 100 Wednesday and did what few new centenarians do.
He celebrated at Hooters, the politically incorrect restaurant chain known for hot wings served by young women in hot pants.
Persinger is a widower, so his wife didn't mind. Truth is, Vi wouldn't have minded anyway.
"We opened the place in 1993," he says in a low, sandpaper rumble. "We went for the shrimp and chicken wings."
And they became regulars. They'd been married almost 72 years when Vi died at 89.
Persinger doesn't exactly fit the Hooters demographic, but so what? You don't hit the 100 mark by paying strict attention to convention.
A boy born in the United States today can expect to live 75 years. When Persinger came along, the life expectancy was a hair under 50.
He's different from most of the 40,000 centenarians in the United States. All but 6,000 are women.
"I don't know how I did it," he says. "Good living, I guess. A lot of good food. Steaks, fried potatoes. I sip a little Royal Crown now and then."
Don't get the wrong idea. He means Crown Royal.
Persinger lives by himself in a one-bedroom home near Merle Hay Mall. He gets plenty of help from his kids and their kids. They check in on him, give him a hand with the housework.
He does much of the cleaning and almost all of the cooking. He can be ornery when he finds a grease spot on the stove.
Persinger tells me it's hard to beat his onion rings, chili, pancakes, meatballs and, of course, his famous fried mush.
"Fry till it gets brown," he says, "add syrup and butter. Oh, it's really good."
I'll wait for meatball day. At 120 pounds, Persinger doesn't weigh much more than a plate of meatballs.
He was sturdier in his prime, during World War II when he watched a Japanese kamikaze pilot carry out a suicide mission.
"I was the oldest sailor on the USS Nashville," he says. "They called me 'Pops.' "
On Dec. 13, 1944, the ship was a few miles from the Philippines when a single-engine fighter came crashing down, two bombs strapped to the wings.
The plane hit, the bombs exploded. Flames and bodies were everywhere.
"He came right over the trees and hit us behind the stacks," says Persinger, who escaped injury. "Killed 133 sailors and wounded 197. But he didn't sink us."
Persinger came home, but he wasn't finished. Korea was next. Somehow he and Vi raised three children, who gave him eight grandkids, who were followed by 14 great-grandkids.
Every Christmas Eve, without fail, the entire family squeezes into the little house on 59th Street. After 38 years in a row, it's a tight squeeze.
A person can jam a lot of living into one century. Persinger survived the Depression, lived on the farm and in the city and not always in "Ioway."
He built dams, milked cows, worked in a munitions plant and a rock quarry.
He adopted a black bear cub in Alaska, flew Cessnas after the GI bill covered his lessons.
He learned to drive a car when he was 6 and was cruising over to Hooters at 98. He doesn't get behind the wheel anymore.
"The doctor said I shouldn't be driving," he says. "I could drive OK. I never had a wreck, but I didn't say anything."
Never had a wreck, never had major surgery.
When Persinger retired from his job as a diesel mechanic in Rock Island, he went to work part time at Continental Western, fixing and maintaining lawn equipment. He did that until he was 88.
Persinger still plays the harmonica. When it's somebody else's birthday, he picks up the phone and knocks out "Happy Birthday" or "Roll Out the Barrel."
He's into politics. "Oh, God," he says. "George Bush ruined the country."
The birthday celebration began Sunday with a party at Meredith Drive Reformed Church. Seventy-five, maybe 100 friends showed up.
"I saw the 100-year-old man," one little boy said. "He's real."
On Wednesday, another 40 or so gathered at Hooters, where a sign above the bar wished Persinger a happy 100th.
A group from the Navy Operational Support Center gave him a plaque.
Persinger sat in a chair, nibbled on some wings, sipped a beer and accepted hugs and handshakes.
Not everybody thinks Hooters was such a perfect party location. Some, apparently, would have preferred Chuck E. Cheese's.
"One guy at the church said, 'Didn't you hear the message this morning about looking at girls and everything?' I told him I was going to Hooters to eat chicken wings."
It's the truth, but maybe not the whole truth. Persinger has been known to ask the women if they'd like a 100-year-old kiss.
Talking about it, the 100-year-old man lets out a 100-year-old laugh, which seems like a decent consolation prize.
I thought this was cute. He definitely had a big birthday bash.
