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A FEW CURLY-ISMS FOR A LONG LIFE

July 7, 2007 12:35 am

HE'S A SHORT, bald guy who calls himself "Curly," and once you get past his age, there is something else about him that stays with you.

He will tell you he was born June 14, 1902, in Dubuque, Iowa, which makes him 105 years old, but Curly--real name Larry Haubner--will tell you he isn't worth all the fuss people have been making over him. But he is wrong. He is quite a special man.

"He seems so genuinely surprised by the attention," said Shirley Heim, an old friend who introduced my son, Tim, and me to Curly one day early last year.

That was the day the three of us drove over to Greenfield Senior Living Center in Stafford County to meet Curly.

You may have seen the story about him in The Free Lance-Star on June 16. It was a fine story, and in it, reporter Jim Hall detailed efforts to keep Haubner at Greenfield now that his funds are nearly gone. The effort is ongoing; the outcome, at this writing, is uncertain.

Haubner, a genuinely happy and almost mythically healthy man, makes an unforgettable impression on those who meet him.

He is a self-described "health nut" who wears no glasses, uses no hearing aid and has his own teeth well, some of them.

Although Curly is deaf, we sat out front at Greenfield on a bench and managed to talk with him for the better part of an hour. For some reason--habit, I suppose--I made notes. We managed to talk with him by speaking in a normal voice, directly into his ear.

Going over my own notes and Hall's story, there remain many large gaps in the story of Haubner's life, but it appears that his family, including his two brothers and a sister, grew up in Tacoma, Wash.

He told us that he graduated from high school and apparently attended a St. Martin's College. There was Army service during World War II. From Haubner, we learned that he lived--apparently for a long time--in New York City, where he was a doorman at an upscale hotel. With his outgoing personality, he made many friends.

While he never married, Haubner did meet a "Mrs. Parnell," who seems to have meant a great deal to him at some time. She was a voice teacher who encouraged him to take singing lessons and told him about the inexpensive afternoon matinees at the Metropolitan Opera. He expressed a love of opera, which goes along with what I found in Hall's account that in his later, Fredericksburg, years Haubner loved to sing while riding his bicycle.

The single time during our talk with him that Haubner turned somber, even sad, was at the mention of Ms. or Mrs. Parnell, and of her death. He did not want to talk about it, so I changed the subject.

From New York, Haubner at some point came to Washington, where, he told us, he lived in an apartment, rode his bicycle and worked in a lumber yard. I could not help but notice that in Hall's account those years were spent in Fredericksburg. I cannot explain this. Perhaps he lived and worked for a lumber yard in both places. I just do not know.

Early last year my son Tim was planning a cross-country solo bicycle trip. As he happened to be visiting at the time, and Heim had previously mentioned Haubner's love of bicycling, I invited Tim along to see Haubner.

For me, and for my son, that was the highlight of our visit. Haubner, who said he used to ride his bike for hours every day that he could, seemed to light up when he and Tim talked bikes and biking.

It was a mutual delight: one young man, one very old man, sharing a passion that was evident.

All Haubner's of lifelong circle of family and friends are gone. Haubner made the point several times that it is lonely living in a world where you outlive everyone you know. But he does not dwell on it, nor does he linger on anything negative. His has a naturally sunny, optimistic disposition, and that came across clearly to each of us.

I wish I could tell him, though, that while his old friends have gone, he had made many new ones, that he is an inspiration to many who have met him. Conversation with him is not easy, but--as with many who are deaf--it is well worth the effort.

When we asked his food preferences, Haubner said he prefers fruits, nuts and vegetables.

And when I asked what he reads, he told me it's mostly newspapers and health magazines. That's when he told me he was a "picky eater." Not finicky, but choosy.

That was underscored when Heim, who enjoys visiting and befriending the elderly in area homes, told me that she once brought candy for Haubner. "The first thing he did was to read the fine print in the ingredients!" she said.

She has visited since then, she said, and remembered his reaction to the candy: "The next time, I took him fruit," she said.