With her silver hair pulled into a neat ponytail and hands clasped gently in her lap, Edna Swan seemed to be a model of demureness.
But friends and family who gathered Saturday to celebrate Swan’s 100th birthday told a story of a woman who has been feisty, adventurous and commanding for an entire century.
“It’s her way or the highway,” said her niece Jo Anne Rice, 63, with a laugh. “She’s still telling people what to do.”
Having been a Vaughn Elementary School teacher in Aurora for almost 20 years, Swan is accustomed to demanding discipline.
After the gathering sang “Happy Birthday” at Aurora’s Burns United Methodist Church, Swan jokingly reprimanded, “You kids be quiet, now.”
She began teaching in Texas in a small country school, where there was only one teacher and very few resources, Swan said.
“You had to live with whatever family could put up with you,” she said.
To which her close friend Eleanor Rowe quipped, “You didn’t have a chance, then.”
Rowe, 87, wrote a poem that was read aloud outlining the chapters of her friend’s life: her marriage, her strong role in the church, and their weekly luncheons on Thursdays.
“My book’s not completed, but what can I write, for friendship forever we keep with delight. 100 years now passed away, what wonderful memories we keep for today,” Rowe wrote.
Retired minister Paul Murphy expanded on her life story. That she was born in a place called Rising Star, Texas, was “proof of the woman and the spirit she’s had these 100 years.”
Murphy mused on the changes Swan has seen in the community, such as the rising costs of bacon and toilet paper, but more importantly on the influence she has wielded.
In the summer months, she loved to travel with her husband, Ben. They led educational tours through South America and spread their appreciation for culture, Murphy said.
Her home was decorated by collections of exotic artwork, artifacts and woven rugs she gathered along the way.
She was president of the United Methodist Women group and was an involved member of the church for 40 years.
But Murphy said her greatest love was gardening, and she adorned the church with beauty outside to show the spiritual strength the building had inside.
“She loves flowers,” Rice said. “She always says she’s not going to heaven unless she has dirt to dig in.”
Guests of the party took turns relaying favorite memories of their beloved relative and friend.
Rice, who lived with her aunt, recalled how Swan was a stickler for proper etiquette and made her learn to properly set a table.
“It was a pain, but now I can teach it to my daughters,” Rice said.
Rice’s husband, Jim, was visiting Swan at her retirement home when someone asked her what contributed to her longevity.
“Orneriness” was her reply.
Another remembered how her husband never called her by her name, but always “little girl.”
Swan was married 48 years before Ben passed away in the ’90s. They had no children, but Swan dabbed at tears when she recalled teaching and all the children she has had in her life.
“I had an audience and people close at hand,” Swan said. “I could reach out to them. Everybody doesn’t have that opportunity.”
Sitting in front of an untouched slice of birthday cake, Swan felt that this birthday was no more monumental than the rest.
“I’ve just lived,” Swan said. “I still have rows to hoe and books to read.”
Staff writer Julianne Bentley can be reached at jbentley@denverpost.com.
