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Young and old bond at retirement community

In late afternoon, residents of the Springhouse Estates retirement community cluster at the entry to the dining room. Louis Senat, 23, the culinary-services supervisor, greets each diner by first name.

ED HILLE / Staff Photographer

In late afternoon, residents of the Springhouse Estates retirement community cluster at the entry to the dining room. Louis Senat, 23, the culinary-services supervisor, greets each diner by first name.

But more is going on here than dinner. Mealtime at Springhouse is also when residents get to interact with their young waitstaff, high school and college students whom more than one resident described as being like their grandchildren.

According to the 2010 National Survey of Residential Care Facilities, more than 730,000 adults in the United States were housed in assisted-living and residential-care communities. Recent data show that 39.6 million Americans are 65 or older; by 2030, that number will jump to 72.1 million.

"With a rapidly aging population, we need to stop segregating elders and bring generations together," said Patience Lehrman, codirector of the Intergenerational Center at Temple University. She applauded Springhouse for bringing elders and youth together.

"Young people have a lot to gain from an older person's experiences," she said. "And sometimes, they may not listen to their parents but might listen to the person that they are serving."

The youth of the staff is no accident: Like other retirement facilities, the parent company of Springhouse Estates, ACTS Retirement-Life Communities, has a hiring policy that allows students as young as 14 to fill server positions.

To sweeten the deal, the company offers culinary scholarships for each student - $600 when they start, and up to $1,000 per year thereafter. Scholarship vouchers can be applied toward tuition or books at any private high school or college.

Servers undergo sensitivity training to help them better relate to the burdens of old age. During the training, they put marbles in their shoes, tape their knuckles, and wear glasses that blur their vision.

"They learn to speak up," said resident Ginny Braun, 83. "Sometimes, I can hear them three or four tables away advertising ice cream or desserts."

The training also alerts students to how quickly life can change.

"One day, you can pick up a glass without trouble," said Senat, a student at Community College of Philadelphia, "and the next day it hurts. For me, it created more patience to deal with residents to put myself in their shoes."

For Senat - who has worked at Springhouse Estates for five years, rising from diet aide to his current supervisory role - residents provide a support system.

"I look at them as grandmothers or grandfathers. They're always here to listen," he said. "I talk to them about how to balance the hours in my job to go to school. How I changed my major from nursing to business management. Some would have rather me be a nurse, but anything I do, they tell me, 'I will support you.' "

"We're interested in them," said Bill Schmidt, 91. "When they're graduating, we ask them where they're going to college and when they're coming back to visit." Schmidt, who recently wrote a letter of recommendation for a young server, said: "You feel so close to these people. It's emotional, really."

Former teachers Grace Renz, 79, and her husband, Joe, 83, also noted how quickly servers mature.

"In two months of working here, they start to change," she said. "They gain more confidence. They stand up straighter."

"And," said her husband, "they help us with technology."

The servers gain, as well.

"I've learned a lot working here," said Tori Knab, 17, from North Penn High School. "Older people have so much wisdom, but they're not that different from teenagers. Here, they all have their cliques. Age isn't that big a barrier for me anymore. You learn that people are pretty much the same in how they act socially."

For Tom Duffy, 22, a student at West Chester University, it's partly personal: His grandmother lives at the facility.

"It's brought us closer," said Duffy. "I can see how she lives on a daily basis and see her friends.

"Before I started, old people were old people. But the longer I worked here, the more I realized that everyone has a past. They all have their own stories and how they end up here. There's a man in the cafe with one leg. To me, he was just a guy who came in and drank coffee.

"But one day, someone told me that during the war, his unit was surrounded by German troops who were going to throw a grenade into their foxhole. He knew German, and so he talked them down. In the end, they were taken as prisoners of war."

He looked down at his hands. "I've learned that every person here has a past, not that extreme perhaps, but that they've had a past that has led them here."

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