Jan 3, 2025 4 min read

THE 1% ers BORN BETWEEN 1930 AND 1946

By AI-ChatGPT4o- T.Chr.- Human Synthesis- 03 January 2025.

In the twilight of their lives, Esther and Ronald Collings, once Australia's oldest living couple, embodied a bygone era that now exists only in memories. Born between 1930 and 1946, they belonged to a vanishing generation—the rare surviving one-percenters. Their story was not just their own but a mosaic of shared experiences that defined a world both familiar and extraordinary.

Esther’s earliest memories were painted with the hues of ration books and wartime thrift. She recalled her mother’s meticulous saving of tin foil and pouring of meat drippings into coffee cans—small acts of patriotism during a time when the world teetered on the brink. Ronald, on the other hand, vividly remembered the chill of early morning milk deliveries, the clink of glass bottles in their front-door milk box, and the excitement of playing outside until the streetlights flickered on.

Neither Esther nor Ronald grew up with the hum of a television in the background. Instead, their imaginations soared with the voices on the radio, conjuring images of faraway places and thrilling adventures. Stories weren’t spoon-fed through a screen; they were built in their minds, piece by piece, word by word. "We had no playgrounds," Ronald would often tell their grandchildren. "The world was our playground—fields, trees, and streets full of possibility."

When black-and-white television finally arrived in the late 1950s, it brought a new kind of magic. But it was limited magic—three channels with no remote control. Esther chuckled when she reminisced about being the family’s "human remote," changing the channel with a twist of the dial at her father’s command. It was a far cry from the world their grandchildren knew, one of endless streaming and screens in every room.

Life then was slower, simpler. The telephone, if you had one, hung on the kitchen wall, tethered by a cord that dictated how far a conversation could roam. Privacy was a luxury no one thought to demand. Calculators weren’t digital marvels but hand-cranked devices, and typewriters demanded a pounding rhythm that echoed through quiet rooms. Newspapers and magazines were the gateways to the world, and comic strips were eagerly awaited treasures.

Esther and Ronald’s generation was the last to witness a world unthreatened by terrorism, economic instability, or global warming. They emerged from the shadow of a Great Depression and a global war into a world brimming with promise. Highways unfurled across nations, bringing jobs and mobility. Downtown streets thrived with bustling shops and friendly faces. Security and optimism permeated daily life. "We didn’t have much," Esther often said, "but what we had felt like everything."

Polio loomed over their childhoods, a silent specter that touched many families. Both Esther and Ronald knew friends who bore its scars, a reminder that even in the best of times, challenges remained. Yet, they also knew the power of community and resilience. Their parents, freed from the weight of depression and war, worked tirelessly to build better lives. They didn’t hover over their children, but they created a world where independence was both a necessity and a gift.

Now, as Esther and Ronald looked back on their lives, they marveled at how much the world had changed. They had grown up in an era where discipline was expected, respect was earned, and life’s pleasures were simple. They had witnessed the birth of the modern age—from the advent of television to the rise of the internet, from hand-cranked calculators to handheld computers. But through it all, they carried the values of their youth: hard work, gratitude, and an unshakable sense of optimism.

Their generation, the smallest born since the early 1900s, had lived through the best of times and the hardest of times. And now, with most of their contemporaries gone, Esther and Ronald’s stories became more precious, their experiences a bridge to a past that shaped the present. They were not just survivors of their era; they were its custodians, holding the memories of a world that would never be again.

In their quiet home, surrounded by photos and mementos, Esther and Ronald continued to live with the dignity and grace that had defined their generation. They were the last of the one-percenters, living testaments to a time of simplicity, resilience, and hope. Their lives were a reminder of how far humanity had come and a beacon for what it might yet achieve.

But their reflections weren’t solely of the past. They found joy in the present—in the laughter of their grandchildren, in the beauty of a sunrise, and in the comfort of each other’s company. "The world has changed," Esther would say, "but love remains the same." Ronald often added, "It’s not about holding onto the past but carrying its lessons forward."

Together, they taught their family not just the history of their era but the values that transcended it. Patience, kindness, and the courage to adapt in an ever-changing world became their legacy. As the sun set on their days, Esther and Ronald remained an enduring light, a testament to the strength of the human spirit and the beauty of a life well lived.

The End.