OCTOBER 2001
At 107 she's the oldest alum
Mabel Maxwell Van Landingham never really stopped teaching.
Although the elementary school children she once instructed have long since graduated, had children of their own, grandchildren, and indeed, even great-grandchildren, Van Landingham continues her lessons, this time about life.
At 107, she is believed to be the oldest living Florida State
graduate, who, until a few years ago, drove, gardening and entertained
at the family home in Cairo.
"She still to this day misses her wheels, to be able
to be independent," said Van Landingham's daughter, Beth
Wight.
At Magnolia Place in Cairo, Ga., red roses with touches of gold-a
gift from the FSU Alumni Association-colored her room on her
Aug. 22 birthday.
Wight attributes her mother's long life to optimism and determination.
"She was always planning ahead," Wight said.
Her mother-then a Maxwell-spent part of her early years on what
is now known as Mistletoe Plantation, where her father grew cotton.
One of her childhood memories was the day window screens appeared
on the market.
Mabel's mother died when she was five, and her father switched to the timber business, setting up sawmills and moving the family from operation to operation, always lugging his daughter's piano on the moves.
School meant a buggy ride to Calvary, where Mabel boarded with a family during the week and went home on the weekends.
The ride was long and hot, and Mabel's father would always pause at the river to scoop water into his hat for his thirsty daughter.
A wood-burning train replaced the buggy as Mabel traveled to Cairo for high school. Fuel stops for wood gave her the chance to stretch her legs and gather wildflowers.
She graduated high school in 1912.
Florida State College for Women was the next stop, and Mabel was among the first graduates of the college's newly-minted teaching program.
Students at the college dressed for dinner and brought their own napkins, which they would insert in little napkin holders tucked under the dining tables.
After graduation, the new elementary school teacher found work in Carrabelle, Fla., where she boarded with a family fond of the piano and of dancing.
Leisure time meant a steamboat ride to Dog Island, where her
mother was fond of "turtle turning," Wight said.
"She just had a good time."
But the good times came to a halt when Mabel's father sent his new wife to check on his daughter's progress, and he called her back home.
Other teaching jobs followed, and then, in 1919, she married Robert Roscoe Van Landingham. She abandoned schoolteaching and had two sons and three daughters. But she stayed active in the community, especially when her husband followed his father's footsteps into politics and the mayor's job in Cairo.
Their sprawling home was the central gathering place for the children's friends as they were growing up, Wight said. "She'd let us roll back the rug and let us dance on the hardwood floors."
Van Landingham returned to teaching at Sunday and Bible School. She joined the Cairo Women's Club and then organized the Plant Cairo Council, a group whose efforts live on in the blooming azaleas and trees.
When her husband died more than 40 years ago, Van Landingham joined her son in the family's Pontiac car business until it closed. She gardened, repaired the aging house and, at the age of 90, volunteered to be a school librarian.
Two falls, two broken hips and failing eyesight finally ended her independence.
Her family moved her to Magnolia Place, a nursing home built
on land her family once farmed.
She had come full circle.
Wight said her mother still delights in surprising people.
She can still be heard singing her all-time favorite tune.
"Accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative," she croons. "And don't mess with Mr. In-between."-Michelle Hayes
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