An Rx for a Good Life from a 94-Year-Old

By Robert R. Schwarz

          He's  94  and self-prescribes  a  simple regimen for a life that   brings him joy:  pray seriously ,  go often  to church, trust God , love your neighbor, eat well, and exercise . To handle serious  stress, he says let God handle it.  Oh—and he adds— play some golf . 

            Jim Hahn  has lived alone since losing his wife  Joan   ten years ago.  She was 83 then ,  and he still misses her terribly yet remains happy , he says , "knowing my kids are all right ".  He has nine of them ; a son , Gerald ,  died             during child birth .   "And we don't have any family problems . "                                           

          Jim rises every morning at 4:30  and seizes the day by   saying a prayer  learned in   Catholic grammar school : My God,  I offer you this day  all  that I do or think or say, uniting  it with what was done  on earth by Jesus Christ, your  son." After breakfast ,  he strolls out  to  his garage  and , while backing out his  2008  Chevy  Impala,  often tells himself,  I'm in God''s hands. As  a tribute to his deceased wife , his car license  plate number  , year after year,   is Mother of 10.  

  

           Three or four minutes later. Jim is praying the Rosary with others   from 7:10 to 7:30   in  the St. James Catholic church ( now undergoing a major expansion )  in Arlington Heights, Illinois . He stays for the weekday Mass, of course , something he's been doing since joining St. James in 1949 .   At some Sundays, his deacon son , Matt, will share the altar with the pastor. Twice weekly, Jim is at  the Little Sisters of the Poor nursing facility, where he leads a book club and  facilitates a group   discussion  on a variety of topics.  

       

With great-grandson Rey and father

   

            For fun during summers,  Jim plays golf at an Arlington Heights golf course.   "From age 70 to 75 I had the lowest handicap in my group. "  Movies are not on his fun list nor is watching television; " Too many commercials, " he says. 

A bit of exercise on Jim's way to garage

          Jim was raised in a bungalow on Chicago's  North Side   ( Belmont  and Central  avenues ) ,   where his father and mother started a tool and die-making  business  in their basement. " I  learned my  trade from my  father . "           

On Okinawa During World War II

                   Soon after World War II broke out, Jim was admitted to the Naval officers training  school at the prestigious Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois.    The school was close to his girl friend's house , Joan,  who would become Jim's   wife and for 63 years.   His officer  training was continued at DePauw University in Indiana  and then to Duke University, where  he  was  to earn the rank of midshipman.    But when Jim learned that two of his friends had been killed in the Battle of the Bulge, he asked himself:  Do I want to spend the rest of the war in school or do I want to go and fight?      

          "I requested to be  transferred to the Pacific Fleet . " Soon Jim was an 18-year-old Seabee ,  now with the rank of machinist mate 3^rd class  and unloading ships  in war zone in the Aleutian Islands off Alaska . The islands were under threat of an invasion by the Japanese military.                                                                                           

On shore leave in Tokyo

    " I  later wound up at Okinawa., where the  worse battle of the war was.  "  On this island, amidst bombing  of Kamikaze  [ suicide]  pilots , Jim drove a truck and managed a carpenter's shop for the  U.S. Marine Corps  lst  division .    After the war, Jim  returned to Northwestern University to apply the skills he had learned as a youngster in his family's basement . The university hired him to  teach PhD candidates how to make machine and scientific  tools , a discipline he taught his students  for the next 46 years.

          " When I came out of the Navy, " Jim  recalls, "times were tough because there was no manufacturing  . There was no economy. You couldn't buy a  stove,.a car, or refrigerator. " The Hahn family had to work long hours   to cope . " We were living in Chicago and people—Irish, Polish and Italian—were struggling for money. But after three years  we were making money as machinists. "  

A Navy Seabee  during  World War II

          Jim and  Joan's   first home was at  728 N. Kenicott , where  they lived from 1950 to 1956 , paying off their $9,500 mortgage in only  two years.  "I attributed that  to putting everything in God's hands. " A steadily increasing family  size required  larger home space for the Hahn's  eventual nine children. Staying in the  same suburb northwest of  Chicago , they moved twice  before settling in 1964  into their current home in Arlington Heights.  Soon after moving  in, Jim joined the Holy Name Society , a national confraternity of Roman Catholic laity  which often helps parish priests.  He eventually served the parish's Holy Name Society as president. 

          The Hahn home today   is a two-floor house with cedar shingles  painted greenish—gray , It  sits on a corner in a quiet residential neighborhood of  tidy lawns and abundant shrubs and trees. The outside porch faces a  sidewalk and has a bench where Jim and Joan held hands on summer nights.

       

The Hahn family. Jim on  bottom row ,  2nd from left

   Inside are  two bedrooms—one for overnight family visitors—Jim's office , and  a living room and dinning room, all kept tidy clean by Jim himself as if he  were expecting company within the hour.  In the living room is  an old rocking chair (circa 1897  ) given  by Jim's grandfather to his grandmother.  On the walls are various cherished  prints and photos  and a picture  dated 1936 of    the St. Ferdinand church and school    Jim   attended . There is an exotic pure silk scroll from Okinawa  depicting a  tiger. In  a crammed bookshelf  are  several religious books, a  biography of  Albert Einstein, a book of American Poetry, and one  about  former TV commentator Bill O' Reilly.  Also there is the book   "Unbroken ", the true story ( later made into a movie )   about an American pilot shot down over the Pacific Ocean . He was converted to Christianity after the war, but  only  after he had achieved victory over a horrific struggle to forgive  the Japanese prison guard who had tortured him for  years.

          At this point in our interview, Jim looked at the book cover of "Unbroken "  and said, "I learned about forgiveness from my family."   He then recalled how he has   learned to forgive  some  builders and retailers whom, he claims , have  cheated him  in the past.

          Jim cooks occasionally in his kitchen for family members . His favorite dish is minestrone soup.  He says he never eats out ,   but on this night his daughter and her husband were taking him out  to dinner at the Pita Inn. "I'm going to order lentil soup and  French fries, " said smiling.  His s family includes daughters Mary—a project manager for Abbot  Laboratories—and Jean, a housewife ;  sons Nicholas , a retired United Airlines reservation agent living with his wife in the Philippines; Jim , a published  author; Tom, a retired registered nurse;  Peter, a retired supervisor of a country  club; Daniel, a landscaper ;  Anthony, an arborist ; and his deacon son , Matt. "Two sons , though they  don't regularly  go to church, nevertheless they follow the Gospel," Jim said. 

        

In his office at home

   Jim described  more of  his faith life this way : " When Joan and I married, we decided we were  going to live a Catholic life. We stuck with the teachings of the Vatican ."  His faith in God's love and omnipotence was put to the test  when his wife began  "hemorrhaging fiercely  " at home when  about to give  birth to  her sixth child.   "We believed she was dying . " Joan was rushed to the hospital , and when Jim told the nurse to call for a doctor, he remembers  her  replying, "This is not a case for a doctor but  for the chaplain. "  Mother and child lived.   Today, Jim says ,   "My faith is stronger , I'm older and stronger. " 

Jim and Joan on wedding day

          I asked if anything today makes him sad. He was silent before saying thoughtfully, "  Losing my wife. " And what might Jim like to be remembered for ?  He quickly said , " A man who  worked well, never doing work half-way…and  that I did something good by working   at Northwestern for 46 years. "

The End

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