When age truly has no bounds The idea that age is no barrier is one of the most powerful forces in modern life. Yet, in a society in which ever increasing numbers of ageing citizens feel lonely and depressed, it is a maxim which justifies daily repetition. We have just witnessed three unforgettable examples of the determination which can be mustered by older people. The eulogies which accompanied the death of the heavyweight champion George Foreman — who recovered his world title at the age of 45 — might be considered the output of an imaginative Runyonesque fiction writer were it not for the little matter of truth. Foreman, 76, was raised by his mother in the tough Houston, Texas district known as ‘Bloody 5th’ because of the murders and violence which were a near daily facet of life. He was a teenage mugger who dropped out of school before enrolling for the Job Corps, a federal programme of the kind which might now be axed by the current administration. It offered free education and vocational training for people between 16 and 24. Foreman was trained as a carpenter and bricklayer but his mentor also introduced him to boxing. By the age of 19, he was gold medal winner at the 1968 Mexico Olympics. Five years later he knocked out the fearsome ‘Smokin’ Joe Frazier in the second round to become world champion only to lose it in the legendary Rumble in the Jungle to Muhammad Ali in Zaire in 1974. When he was unable to get a rematch, Foreman quit the ring. His weight ballooned to nearly 160kg. He became a church minister in the town of Humble after a moment of epiphany in a locker room. In difficult financial straits, he rekindled his boxing career, shed all his excess fat, and became the oldest man ever to win the world title — his second — at the age of 45. He also made hundreds of millions of dollars by endorsing the George Foreman Lean Mean Grilling Machine, telling the BBC’s Desert Island Discs no one would ever starve “if they knew how to sell”. Foreman, who visited Limerick in 1999 at the request of a friend, had 12 children, with his five sons each named George. “When you’ve had a career in boxing,” he told an interviewer, “memory management becomes kinda important.” If that is a remarkable life story, it is no less than the account of the 109-year-old life of Ireland’s oldest person, Ruby Druce, who died at her home in Donegal. Mrs Druce lived through two world wars and two pandemics. A non-smoker and teetotaller, she only ever had one sip of poitín — and that was for medicinal purposes when she had a bad cold. She may have concluded, as some people do, that one taste is enough for a lifetime. The third representative of our indomitable trio is, of course, the 88-year-old Pope who left hospital after five weeks of treatment for a life-threatening attack of double pneumonia. Frail but capable of giving a thumbs-up and a blessing, his qualities during his illness have been inspirational. As are the examples of many old people who live among us.