“You know you’re getting old when you stoop to tie your shoelaces and wonder what else you could do while you’re down there.”   — George Burns 

Jerry Fiman was married twice, and both his wives died from cancer after 15 years. For the past two years, he has lived at the Covenant Place.

A former salesman and substitute teacher, Cohen is the only male resident on his floor — “that’s kind of interesting,” he said — and he also has a lady friend in another part of the building.

He taught in the Parkway School District for almost 15 years, until 2014, mostly with middle school students, who are supposedly the most difficult, he said.

“People would say they’re the worst, but I would say, ‘No, they are the best,’ ” said Fiman. “I had a great rapport with them and I found that if I respected them, it was mutual.”

His enjoyment of teaching also had to do with the fact that he still feels young. He spends time at the gym, attends a Yiddish club twice a month — he is fluent — edits a bimonthly newsletter for the Covenant Place, and volunteers for a variety of causes. 

“I don’t look in the mirror and say, ‘Man, are you 81?’” said Fiman, who has two children and four grandchildren. “I say, ‘Yeah, I’m 81, so what?’ ” 

“Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” – Mark Twain

Earlier this month, Lewis Chartock, 74, announced he was retiring as president and CEO of MERS/Goodwill, which operates thrift stores and job training services.

In 1994, at age 53, Chartock, who holds a doctorate in social work, became president of Metropolitan Employment and Rehabilitation Service. He has been at the helm since MERS merged with Missouri Goodwill Industries in August 2001. Under his leadership, the region’s Goodwill operations grew from 21 to 42 stores, with another 10 in the works, and from an $8 million business to $160 million. Each year, the organization serves more than 60,000 people in 75 locations in the bi-state area.

“As the song goes, ‘You’ve got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em,’” said Chartock, quoting Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler” in response to a question about why he is retiring now. He plans to move to Olympia, Wash. with his wife to be near their son’s family, which includes two of three grandchildren (the third lives in Eastern Europe).

“I’ve had a good life, nothing to complain about. I’ve achieved what I have wanted to achieve and had great jobs along the way,” said Chartock.   “I don’t know if I will work (in Olympia), but I learned never to say never.”

“Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.” – Franz Kafka 

Barbara Land has had much of her life defined by moving frequently or being close to those who do. These days, it’s the opposite: she is waiting for her hip to heal and for her doctor to say she can again drive. 

Growing up, she moved from Indiana to Illinois to Tennessee to New York because her father worked for various retail stores, helping to improve operations. 

“When you’re shy and move around like that, you don’t make friends very easily,” said Land, 68. 

Then about 40 years ago, while living in St. Louis and participating in B’nai B’rith International, she met and married a traveling salesman of auto supplies, Larry Land. He would periodically call her and tell her he had found a cute cat at a Humane Society that needed a home. Eventually they owned five and avoided buying nice furniture because they didn’t want to get them declawed.

He died in 2007, and over the last two years, she has had a series of health problems, including a stroke, pneumonia and other illnesses that have had her in and out of hospitals and rehab centers.

Now Land, who lives at the Crown Center for Senior Living in University City, is having to reach out to friends, despite her shyness. There have been friends who offered the standard, “Let me know what I can do to help.” But when she finally asks them to pick up a prescription, they don’t respond, she said.

Others have been there, however, and taken her to doctor’s appointments. 

“I have no family anymore but I have a couple of really good friends who have made up for the lack of family,” said Land, who sold rock pencils for 40 years until retiring in 2014. “They have been fantastic and very supportive.”