To a clapping crowd, Mr. Hamilton displayed his trademark smile and walked easily to the podium.  He told us he didn't know the secret to his longevity.  Good genes maybe.  But he planned on living at least four more years--that's how long his driver's license is good for!  Maybe, he said, it was that he'd been surrounded by women most of his life.  He told us that, even though he'd graduated from OSU within the last year, he wasn't finished learning.  He planned to go back for more classes this fall, no doubt becoming, again, the oldest active student in the OSU system.  His voice quavered some as he recalled the passing of his wife six years ago.  Simply watching, and listening, and realizing that this gentle man was born before Orville and Wilbur Wright flew at Kitty Hawk was, indeed, miraculous.

Oliver shook president Nick Chilton's hand, accepted a small gift of appreciation, turned to his right, walked three steps--and collapsed.  For a moment, a hundred pairs of eyes fixed on the slumped figure and a hundred minds registered the same thought--that we had just heard the last words of a remarkable centenarian, just a day after his hundredth birthday. 

Then, action.  A phalanx of Rotarian doctors rushed to Oliver's side.  Ophthalmologist Charlie Garvin at his head.  Tarlok Purewal over his chest.  Pediatrician Leonard Janchar and Podiatrist Mike Springer elevated his feet.    Those closest to him felt no breath or pulse.  Dr. Garvin cleared an air passage, pinched Mr. Hamilton's nose and blew breath into his lungs.  Dr. Purewal locked his fingers and put the heels of his hands into Mr. Hamilton's sternum and began pumping. 

Epworth's senior minister Max Williams waved a hand in the air and invited people to the hallway to pray.  I dialed 9-1-1.  A chair was found for Oliver's younger (96) brother Merle.  In the hallway, prayers were spoken aloud and others were whispered.  Under Pastor Max's guidance, the Lord's Prayer was recited. 

Inside the dining room, the rhythmic chest compression and breathing exercise continued.  Napkins were laid under Oliver's head to form a cushion.  Then, moments before the first emergency squad arrived, Oliver coughed.  His eyes fluttered open.  He asked what had happened.  Dr. Purewal explained that he'd fainted and fallen down.  By the time the emergency squad members arrived, Oliver was sitting up and laughing with us about how, after his remark about being surrounded by women, he'd collapsed into the arms of Elaine Merchant who cushioned his fall and, no doubt, prevented serious injury. 

I don't know what you believe.  Perhaps it's all easily explained.  Perhaps the emotional drain and exhaustion of a weekend party caused a fainting spell.  And CPR?  It's a physical thing--mechanical massage to keep the blood pumping and the oxygen flowing.  And the prayers in the hall?  No more than a useful distraction to keep the crowd away from the patient. 

Or maybe it was a miracle.  Maybe prayers do work.  Maybe it was not a coincidence that Oliver's collapse happened with half a dozen doctors only steps away.  Maybe Oliver has more to do here.  Maybe his episode was a call for us to start paying attention to our lives.  Maybe he has more to teach us about the value of a positive outlook--about how you're never too old to learn--about the honor in working hard at your vocation, whether it's digging rocks out of the ground or mending broken bodies--about celebrating the gift of your life, whether you're ten or a hundred.  Maybe there were angels in the room, calling on God, cushioning his fall, breathing and pumping his blood when he couldn't do those things for himself.

At his birthday party a few days before, I saw a young man of about ten shake Mr. Hamilton's hand.  He was accompanied by his father and had come specifically to speak to and be inspired by a man who was ten times older than he was--and still having the time of his life!  Perhaps Oliver came back to share that kind of inspiration with more of us.

The squad took Mr. Hamilton to Marion General for a series of checks and tests.  He told us it was only his second ever visit to the emergency room.   He was released the next day when, as he said, "they couldn't find anything wrong with me!"  Miraculous.