Setting off for a century of life, a scrawny baby, named Elizabeth, upset her mother’s festive dinner by being born on Thanksgiving Day, 1915. Edna M and J Arthur Test were delighted. She was exactly what they wanted, Right off they called her Betty and all lived happily for twenty-two years in Akron, Ohio.
Not totally happy. They worried during the First World War as Edna and Arthur had Quaker backgrounds strongly commitment to peace. Armistice Day, November 11, 1918 was a joyful time except Betty, running around to celebrate, fell on the cinder path. Cinders stuck in her knees, and she screamed during kitchen table surgery.
At eleven she mapped out her future: Choose Xenophon for a middle name, be a movie star, marry a lawyer, have eight children. Well now, however you look at it, 3 out of 4 isn’t bad.
At age twenty-two she married Harvey Davis, a studying-to-be-a-lawyer who became an FBI agent, practicing lawyer, law professor. They had eight children and the whole family played tennis. Later Betty became a speech therapist, a job not on her eleven-year-old list. She found that Betty X Davis was an identification and without X her name was like one of thousands
After sixty-nine years of marriage and success and good times and a pack of grandchildren and greatgrandchildren, Harvey died at ninety-five.
Betty lives on. In retirement she decided in retirement to write stories for children. Success has been limited but enthusiasm continues. Her children surround her. Her friends abound.
What more could anyone wish for at age one hundred?