Implications

By now, you know how I applied the Alician principle. Very seriously, determining precisely the special health problems of aged blacks is presently impossible, given the scant data available about them, and quite importantly, their considerable heterogeneity in health attitudes and behaviors, including dietary patterns. Concentration upon hypertensive aged blacks, for example, ignores those burdened with malignant neoplasms or corns and callouses.

Health is a crucial problem for most aged blacks. Needed yesterday are (1) sufficient knowledge, periodically up-dated, about their health patterns, with an intensive focus upon biomedical research and related areas; (2) welldistributed health providers qualified to serve them; and (3) wherever necessary, sufficient societal supports to provide them with tangible and intangible rewards, such as hearing aids, necessary for health maintenance.

As a first step in this direction, highly reliable and experienced gerontologists, health providers, and biomedical researchers who can chart needed research should be convened. It is important to stress that such a conference would concentrate upon the health patterns and conditions of aged blacks, and not those of aged nonwhites. The participants would not be selected on the basis of race, but on the basis of their ability to contribute to the task at hand.

This caution is advisable, since the few Federal attempts to set forth research needs for aged blacks in the past have generally ignored critical participants, including biomedical researchers, epidemiologists, health planners, and health providers experienced in treating aged blacks. For example, the recent set of recommendations about minority aging developed for the Federal Council on Aging is, in my view, repetitive and primitive, and fails to address appropriately the significant health problems of aged blacks.

REFERENCES

'Jacquelyne J. Jackson and Bertram E. Walls, "Myths and Realities about Aged Blacks," in Readings in Gerontology, Second Edition, edited by M. Brown (St. Louis: C. V. Mosby Company, 1978).

2Louis Harris & Associates. The Myth and Reality of Aging in America (Washington, D.C. National Council on the Aging, 1975).

See, e.g., Adrian M. Ostfeld, "Nutrition and Aging Discussant's Perspective," in Epidemiology of Aging, edited by Adrian M. Ostfeld and Don C. Gibson (Washington, D.C.: United States Government Printing Office, no date given, DHEW Publication No. (NIH) 75-711, pp. 215-222.

4The 1971-74 prevalence rates per 100 for definite hypertension for persons 55-64 years of age were 54.5 for black females, 49.9 for black males, 31.7 for white females,

and 31.1 for white males; for persons 65-74 years of age, 58.8 for black females, 50.1 for black males, 42.3 for white females, and 35.3 for white males. Jean Roberts, "Blood Pressure Levels of Persons 6-74 Years, United States, 19711974," See Vital and Health Statistics, Series 11, No. 203, DHEW Pub. No. (HRA) 78-1648 (Washington, D.C.: U. S. Government Printing Office, 1977).

and Aging," in

5 Robert E. Shank, "Nutrition Epidemiology of Aging, op. cit., pp. 199-213.

"The data were obtained from the National Center for Health Statistics, Dietary Intake Findings United States, 1971-1974, Vital and Health Statistics, Series 11, #202, DHEW Publication # (HRA) 77-1647 (Washington, D.C.: United States Government Printing Office, 1977). 7Ostfeld, op. cit.

Specifically, the number of days of restricted activity per person per year for non-white females was 59.9 for those 6574 years, and 65.2 for those 75 or older. Corresponding data for their male counterparts were 43.5 and 67.8 days. The average number of days of bed disability per person per year for nonwhite females was 24.2 for those 65-74 years, and 35.4 for those 75 or older; for nonwhite males, the average was 16.5 for those 65-74 years, and 32.3 for those 75 or older.

"The available data about limitations of activity and mobility were self-reported data, causing us to emphasize that the correlations between self-reports and medical reports are not known for aged blacks. This is especially important since lower income persons may tend to exaggerate their physical conditions or illnesses. Also, we do not know the extent to which such self-reported limitations are affected by physical resources. For example, individuals experiencing arthritis with adequate personal transportation may be far less likely to report serious limitations than those dependent upon poor public transportation.

10 In 1975, nonwhite aged accounted for only 1.1 percent of all visits to office-based physicians in patient care. Of those who visited, about 11 percent were new patients for the specific physician, 18 percent were old patients with new problems, and the remaining 71 percent were old patients with old problems. The physicians felt that about 31 percent of these patients had serious problems, about 36 percent, slightly serious problems, and the problems of the remaining 33 percent were not serious, according to Hugo K. Koch, "National Ambulatory Medical Care Survey." Vital and Health Statistics, Series 13, #33, DHEW Publication (PHS) 78 1784 (Hyattsville, Maryland: National Center for Health Statistics, 1978).

Donald K. Ingram, "Profile of Chronic Illness in Nursing Homes, United States, August 1973-April 1974,” Vital and Health Statistics, Series 13, #29, DHEW Publication (PHS) 78-1780 (Hyattsville, Maryland, National Center for Health Statistics, 1977).

12 John Nowlin, "Successful Aging: Health and Social Factors in an Interracial Population," BLACK AGING, 2,

1977.

P

ierre Lartique was laid to rest at the age of 112. Believed to have been born on May 30, 1860, on a plantation in St. Landry parish near Mamou, Louisiana, Lartique's age was "legally" established by his family after writing to old friends and plantations near his birthplace when it became necessary for him to apply for State and Federal old age benefits.'

Lartique was born a free black before the Civil War, the son of parents who had "run away on a horse" from their slavemaster in Virginia to settle in Louisiana. He did not begin his own family until the turn of the century, when he married the first of his three wives. His last wife, Mandy, died at age 70 after 54 years of marriage to him. From his unions, Pierre fathered nine children who begat him grandchildren and great-grandchildren "by the hundreds." He remained active as

William E. Huling*

head of his family until the time of his death. Working as a share-cropper on tenant farms in Louisiana, and later as a hand with the Southern Pacific railroad, Pierre provided a living for his family by any means necessary. He supplemented his income in "lean times" by "floatfishing" on the Marmentau River, and hunted game with his "Long Tom" shotgun, which his family still owns. He became a carpenter in his later years, and practiced the trade until his nineties. Lartique also gathered Spanish moss from the bayous and sold it to furniture makers who used it as filler material for cushions and mattresses. He took the task of providing for his family seriously.

During the last decades of his life, Pierre lived alternately with two of his daughters in Louisiana, but would visit his family in various parts of the United States.

Lartique had a disdain for old age. He was quoted in a local newspaper on the occasion of his 109th birthday as saying "senile old folks in their eighties who wear bedclothes all the time and can't get around on their own depress me," and he refused to consider living among them in

Historically, older blacks have provided a cohesiveness for the family by offering

both material and spiritual support to their children and grandchildren.

an "old folks' home." Pierre always wore a dresscoat when he dined with his family. He was an active, responsible family member until his death. This is how his family remembers him. The Mystique and Myths of Older Blacks

To the naive observer, Pierre Lartique appears to be an enigma because he goes against the grain of the mythical image of the elderly black man. Because the life expectancy for blacks is less than that for whites, which is especially true for black males, it is commonly, albeit erroneously, believed that they do not live to be very old. This myth can be dispelled if one realizes that blacks who survive middle age have an excellent chance of surpassing their expected 65-year age span. Blacks who live past 70 actually have a longer life expectancy than their white counterparts.

Life expectancy for blacks is deceptive because it is lowered by the high mortality rate among young blacks. Old blacks, however, enjoy a longevity that is at leat equal to any other American group. It appears that "old" blacks are far from being a rarity.

Aged blacks are surrounded by a mystique as a result of mythical representations of their roles in the family. More often than not, however, these myths as perpetuated in lengend and literature are rooted in reality. One such myth is that black men are not usually part of the family. In colonial times, the reality was that black males were either sold away from the family, died at an early age, or were not the biological fathers of the children they raised. Conversely, black males such as Alex Haley's "Fiddler" and "Chicken George" in Roots were present to hold their families together. Their roles were much the same as those of Pierre Lartique, who provided continuity for family units across generational lines. Elderly blacks historically have been able to call upon their storehouses of wisdom, accumulated through years of confrontation with a harsh environment, to cope with disruptive forces which threatened their family's survival.

Another popular myth is that older black women have been concerned with the "mammy" role to the exclusion of other roles which affected the total black family. E. Franklin Frazier, in his classic, The Negro Family in the United States, devoted a chapter to the grandmother whom he called "the guardian of the generations."3

It was a black woman, Harriet Tubman, better known as "General Moses," who devoted her later life to helping runaway slaves to freedom through an underground network. Sojourner Truth, who called all people her "children" because she claimed to be older than all of them,

led the fight for human rights across the United States. Biddy Mason, a slave who won her freedom in California in her later years, established humane conditions for the and imprisoned in Los Angeles through her acts of philanthropy. The list of older black women who functioned outside of the "mammy" role goes on and on.

A final myth that bears reflecting upon is that "blacks take care of their own old folks." The connotation is that when blacks reach a certain age, they become burdensome and are watched over by the rest of the family. In actuality, investigations show that aged blacks remain. actively engaged in the family for as long as possible, and they play a reciprocal role. They take care of the family as much as the family cares for them.

Historically, older blacks have provided a cohesiveness for the family by offering both material and spiritual support to their children and grandchildren. They are the keepers of family history and folklore, passing them on to the young in order to provide a continuity to the younger generations.

Often, the older blacks are the folk-healers for the myriad of illnesses which beset a family, and as such are experts in home remedies and herbal cures. Some, in areas like Louisiana, may be versed in spiritual incantations which have evolved from religious beliefs such as voodoo. The effectiveness of their skills as health care providers can be attested to by anyone who has been raised by a black grandparent.

The elderly are sought out for advice, and are given the responsibility for keeping the family traditions. Often, young people outside of the family, who have no elders of their own to turn to, "borrow" them for use as counselors and advisors. They play an important role in the socialization of the young. When it is necessary for parents to be away from home for prolonged periods of time, it often becomes the task of the elders to "raise" their children. Additionally, orphans and unwanted children from outside the family frequently are cared for by the elders, who raise them as their natural children.

An important rite for the aged is the transmission of values to the young. The establishment of what is right and wrong, expected behavior, and religious beliefs are generally the domain of the elders. It is foolish for young parents to contradict the teachings or wishes of an elder that have been instilled in their children, for they will most certainly face some sort of sanction from the rest of the family. Common terms for grandparents are "Big Mamma" and "Pappa and once they have spoken, their words have the weight of law in the family.

Grandfathers often teach grandsons skills that can be used for practical purposes, such as basic home maintenance techniques. The youngster usually watches Pappa fix something, and eventually will actively assist him. For Big Mamma, the girls are her responsibility. They learn common domestic chores by being coerced into doing them, but they are rewarded by being privy to some of her treasured recipes, which they will not fully appreciate until later. Among traditional black families, the ultimate compliment at family feasts is "you cook such-and-such almost as good as Big Mamma." When viewed in this respect, the traditional family roles of older blacks appear to be more commonplace than mystical.

Contemporary Roles of the Black Aged

Teen-aged ex-slave George Simmons settled with his family of orientation in Texas in the 1870's after they gained freedom in Mississippi. He met and married Martha Johnson, and they raised 12 children of their own, plus "a few nieces, nephews, and foundlings." The youngest of their three daughters, Harriet, was born in 1904. She now lives in San Diego, California, where she was widowed more than 30 years ago. Only her sisters and two of her brothers are still living.

Harriet and her husband John came to San Diego in the 1920's in search of work. They had three children, and after John's early death, Harriet decided to remain there and raise her family, despite invitations by her sisters and brothers to rejoin them in the South. She never considered remarrying. Today she is the matriarch of the family. She still maintains the family home, where she has episodically raised her children, many grandchildren, and currently some great-grandchildren.

Additionally, Harriet has taken on the role of family coordinator, and is the authority on historical events in the family. She regularly corresponds with family members, keeping them abreast of new births, illnesses, graduations, weddings, and other news of family interest. Few major family decisions are made without first consulting her. She visits her sisters and brothers in Texas and Arizona regularly, and can often be found enjoying a stay in Las Vegas, which she claims to be her "only vice."

Harriet is not unlike many other older blacks across the United States. Those born about the same time as Harriet experienced the same type of upbringing, most likely in the South. Although many of her generation have migrated to urban areas outside the South, the socialization provided to them, most likely by grandpar

ents, is evident in their current roles.

Mary Sampson, 88, who lives with her 84year-old sister and brother-in-law on a 120-acre parcel of land near Edwards, Mississippi, bought land more than 50 years ago with her brother Russell so they could have "something to call our own."

Mary had three children early in life, and they moved away from home during the twenties and thirties going north, east, and west to find decent work. Two are still alive, and Mary visits them occasionally to "keep in touch with my grandchildren." Mary has never really accepted the reasons for her own children leaving the farm, and appears to be noncommital about the subject.

When her brother died in the forties, Mary found herself alone trying to run the farm. More than once, she was threatened with the loss of the property. Initially, her brother's heirs wanted to sell his share, and she had to overextend herself with the bank to buy them out. Crop failures almost caused the bank to foreclose on the property, and a tax lien nearly resulted in the state seizing the property for settlement. More recently, neighboring conglomerates have coveted the farm, applying pressure in every possible way to get her to sell out. With her family's help, she has survived every attempt to take her land.

Mary's sister, Toby, and her husband Ed, came after retiring to help with the farm's management. Between their combined pensions and home-grown food crops, they manage to live comfortably. Occasionally, their children and grandchildren pay them short visits, but they find it difficult to adjust to the extremes of rural living, which include the lack of modern plumbing and electrical conveniences. Mary is not concerned greatly about this, because she knows how the family has come to her aid when she needed it. The land will belong to the children someday, but for now, it is Mary's mark in the world.

Mary's oldest son, 70-year-old John Mason, lives in Chicago where he migrated in the twenties. He is a widower, and lives alone in a house he bought in 1938. Although he is retired, he remains active, doing odd jobs and pursuing several hobbies. John has two daughters, neither of which is close by. The oldest lives in Europe with her husband, and the other is in California with her family. Nevertheless, they are in constant contact with each other by mail, phone, and reciprocal visits.

Interestingly, John's lifestyle echoes that of his mother. Both had children who left home "to seek their fortunes." Both are caretakers of property which will eventually be passed on to

The land will belong to the children someday, but for now, it is Mary's mark in the world.

The practice of treating the aged as assets rather than as liabilities to the family has been demonstrated through the years by Southern blacks.

their children. Both live great spatial distances from their children. Yet, each is closely tied to children and grandchildren by reciprocal senti

ments.

The effects of migration have not substantially weakened family ties over two generations for the family of Mary Sampson. Instead, they have nurtured a desire for individuality, the need for independence. Mary's acquisition of land started a tradition which has been followed by her descendants, that of "making it on your own." Both Mary and John share a sadness about their children leaving their vicinity, but there is also a great pride shared by each about their children's achievements in a white world.

Mary Sampson's role in her family involves not only keeping the family pride but starting a family tradition. Mary and Russell were the first to break away from the sharecropping tradition of the family, which evolved naturally for blacks

in this region following emancipation. By breaking that mold, Mary has had to endure many hardships as a pioneering black landowner in what was then a non-accepting Mississippi.

What about other contemporary blacks like John who have migrated away from family systems and now face old age alone? An answer can be found by looking at the traditional system of family structure found among southern blacks. The practice of treating the aged as assets rather than as liabilities to the family has been demonstrated through the years by southern blacks. Currently, in urban areas, many older blacks face loneliness as a result of not having close family ties available to them. Such was the case of Rose and Al Turner.

Al Turner, 65, was born in Florida in 1913. He is retired now because of poor health, but moonlights as a security guard and does occasional domestic work with his wife, Rose, age 62, They had no children of their own and moved to the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles in 1954, where they purchased their present home.

Al and Rose came to Los Angeles in 1952 to bring a relative to the "land of promise." "She promised us this, and she promised us that, but she didn't keep none of them," according to Al. Rose's cousin was visiting the family in Cleveland where Al and Rose were living. They were both unemployed at the time, and the cousin convinced them that jobs were available in California. They agreed to drive her back to Los Angeles, but experienced difficulty with their car on the way back.

As a result, they arrived in Los Angeles "broke, and with no prospects." The cousin had a "day job" as a domestic, and got them a job as

Rose and Al built a friendship network in what was then an all black community, populated with southerners like themselves who had come to the area. Rose's cousin remarried and accompanied her husband back to the South, leaving them with no kin in California. This was of no importance to them at the time, but later, as they grew older and their neighborhood changed, they began to feel the pains of loneliness. Their old friends were dying or moving away from their neighborhood and were being replaced by young Mexican-Americans.

Al and Rose considered returning to Cleveland many times during this period, but reluctantly faced the fact that for them, it was too late to start anew. They decided to stick it out, "for better or for worse." About that time, the