THE AMAZING NORRIS
Norris isn’t like many of us geezers at Fallingbrick (renamed by me after, you guessed it, falling bricks from the building’s facade). It would be highly disrespectful to refer to this gentleman as a geezer.
Norris moved here from an assisted living facility about a year ago. Several others have moved here from assisted or independent living facilities because of the high cost or the food quality. Some current residents could benefit from 24-hour staff and three meals daily, but they won’t get it here. Fallingbrick is for “active adults,” meaning no frills, just falling bricks. It’s an ordinary apartment community for those over 62 with a healthy monthly income to qualify for the pricey rent. The building’s exterior and interior are beautiful, but what lurks beneath the surface is substandard construction.
I recently asked the manager how they handle residents who need assistance. She explained that they contact their children when they see them fall. I questioned the lack of follow-through on behalf of the children and management when a barely functioning renter remains isolated in their apartment after falling or exhibiting incoherence. She responded that they couldn’t do anything, as it was the responsibility of the children and the resident. I was surprised to hear this, as ANYONE can contact Adult Protective Services to investigate the well-being of an adult. Oh, well, all I can do is call APS when I observe someone unable to physically or mentally live alone.
Some ladies here have no qualms about entering someone’s apartment if they suspect the occupant is in distress or dead. Maybe their efforts are appreciated, but I question their true motivation. They would be unwise to enter my apartment uninvited, as they did to my next-door neighbor. Her friends either came by to take the dog out or stayed in her apartment when she was hospitalized. The ladies didn’t know she was in the hospital and, without her permission, opened her door anyway to “check on her,” even after I advised them not to open her door and find something else to do. I was acquainted with my neighbor’s friends and knew they checked on her daily. As I remarked to the manager, that group of ladies can wait until a foul odor emits before letting themselves into my apartment. I won’t care about their intrusion if I’m dead.
Back to our gentleman: Norris is a lovely, brilliant 93-year-old man who can converse with anyone about anything. His booming, baritone singing voice is his hidden talent. Everyone is astounded when he is encouraged to let loose.
Unlike some people who can’t stop talking about themselves, Norris won’t continue answering questions about himself before asking the other person about themselves. His only hiccup is extreme hearing loss, to which I can relate. To the casual observer, our conversations lead some to believe we’re yelling at each other.
Norris served in the military for a couple of years and lost most of his hearing due to loud and continuous engine noise in an enclosed building. After graduating from Carnegie Mellon University with a degree in metallurgical engineering, he spent his career in that field in high-profile positions. Carnegie Mellon has consistently been ranked one of the best engineering schools in the country for decades and is ranked #5 this year. Metallurgical engineers are experts at transforming metals into various products, such as medical devices, automobile parts, aerospace, and electronics. You get the picture. It takes a genius to figure out a mess of metals and make something of it. My daughter’s paternal grandfather worked as a metallurgical engineer making bars for prison cells until a car fell on his head when her father was only eighteen months old. (Not to make light of his unfortunate demise, but didn’t he know what kind of metal chain was needed to hold a 3000-pound car?)
Norris has been a widower for ten years; losing his wife hasn’t changed his upbeat personality. Nor does he confine himself to his apartment like some residents. He learned to cook when COPD incapacitated his wife, as he figured he must, or they would starve. He’s the Head Chef of his domain, which is more than I can say for myself.
The most amazing fact about Norris is that even though he was gravely ill at least twice this past year and had to be hospitalized, you wouldn’t know he almost bought the farm both times. Once, his daughter found him in a fetal position, unresponsive and with a high fever, which led to a 911 call. Another time, Norris was hospitalized for COVID-19 and then relapsed, which may have been a third hospitalization. Two of the hospitalizations required additional time in inpatient rehabilitation to regain strength, but he returned to Fallingbrick a few weeks after each rehab stay. He never stopped walking, which is probably why he’s still upright.
Any other 90+-year-old person would have difficulty recovering, much less surviving such life-threatening events. Norris is like the Energizer Bunny or the phoenix rising from ashes. He continues to use a walker while maintaining a brisk pace. Since Norris knows his limitations, he wears a medical alert device…just in case. On most days, you can spot Norris greeting everyone in the common area before effortlessly descending a hill on a sidewalk two blocks away from the complex. He’ll ascend the same hill on the way back home, but not to worry, as he’s now an expert at fearlessly conquering mountains.
Rock on, Norris.
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