At 93, He’s Still Going Strom But Senator’s Age Has Become An Issue As He Campaigns For Another Term This Year

The average 93-year-old American man has a life expectancy of 3.5 years.

So why is South Carolina Sen. Strom Thurmond, who turned 93 in December, gearing up for yet another six-year Senate term? Thurmond loves questions like that.

“Do you think the average person exercises like I do?” the South Carolina Republican growls in a grits-thick twang. “Do you think the average person has a diet like I do? Do you think the average person has an optimistic attitude toward life like I do?”

Minutes later, Thurmond points at an office wall, where photos of 10 presidents stare down, from Franklin Roosevelt (who served from 1933-45) to George Bush, who finished in 1993. In 1932, Thurmond attended the Democratic convention that nominated Roosevelt.

“They’ve all come and gone - I’m still here,” says Thurmond, born in 1902.

On Friday, Thurmond is expected to break a record that may never be broken again - at 93 years and 94 days old, he’ll be the oldest U.S. senator ever. That’s one day older than the previous oldest senator, Theodore Green, a Rhode Island Democrat who retired on Jan. 3, 1961.

If he wins again this year, Thurmond would be 100 years old in early 2003, when his term would end. He is confident he can win even in the face of the previously unthinkable - public questioning in his home state about whether he should retire.

Age doesn’t matter if health holds, Thurmond insists.

“For the next several years, who can do more for South Carolina than I can?” says Thurmond. “It would take a new person 20 or 30 years to get where I am now.”

Skill and luck may be on Thurmond’s side. He has carried off upset after upset, from beating an incumbent in 1928 for county school superintendent to surviving - and thriving - after he switched from Democrat to Republican in 1964. So he figures he can win this year.

He does promise, however,”This will be the last time.”

Thurmond doesn’t read books, he doesn’t go to movies. His children are of college age; he’s separated from Nancy, his wife of 28 years. Most of his life revolves around his job and honing his health.

The day a reporter interviewed him in his Washington office, Thurmond had earlier performed the basics of a regime he’s done most of his life - 50 minutes of exercise and a low-fat, high-fiber breakfast.

The exercise included 20 minutes of twisting, bending and stretching. There are push-ups, sit-ups and weight lifting, and a 20-minute ride on a stationary bike.

Then, breakfast.

“I had grits and egg whites. … The yolks are not too good for you, you know,” Thurmond says. He downed a banana, an apple, skim milk, and a glass of half-orange, half-grapefruit juice.

He has made concessions to age. He used to keep barbells in his office and knock out push-ups for visitors. No more.

His swimming, once three times a week, is down to once a week. He no longer jogs.

His hearing is somewhat off, but his vision is good, and he walks without assistance, though he sometimes will take a person’s arm.

These past few years, fate has pummeled Thurmond.

In 1991, his wife left him. In 1992, a Washington Post article aired rumors that he had an illegitimate black child but offered no firm evidence. In 1993, his oldest daughter, Nancy, 22, was killed by a drunken driver. Comedians lampoon his hair transplants for being Tang-colored.

Thurmond doesn’t dwell on this.

“I don’t think about the past; I think about the future,” says Thurmond. “When something happens, forge ahead.”

Thurmond’s ultralong record of accomplishments may be the very thing that defeats him.

“I think he needs to retire and let somebody else take over,” says Margie Hoilman, 48, a Republican, of Pickens, S.C. In the past, says Hoilman, she has voted for Thurmond, but she doesn’t think she’ll do so now because of his age.

State newspapers, historically unfailingly supportive of Thurmond, are starting to focus on his age.

“No one can cheat mortality forever, not even Strom Thurmond,” wrote The Spartanburg Herald-Journal in a recent editorial headlined, “Thurmond Should Retire.”

Moreover, anecdotal evidence from people familiar with his behind-the-scenes behavior say Thurmond doesn’t always appear to grasp complicated issues these days - something Thurmond and his staff deny.

Asked about his health, Thurmond snaps, “Excellent!”

It better be. As president pro tempore of the U.S. Senate (a post held by that body’s most senior member), Thurmond is third in line for succession to the presidency - after Vice President Al Gore and House Speaker Newt Gingrich. He is also chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee, which oversees a $263 billion defense budget.

Until this year, open criticism of Thurmond has been rare.

A beloved icon, the senator has helped thousands of people get jobs and steered millions of dollars of “pork” to home state projects. Each month, his congressional office does hundreds of favors for constituents - everything from getting passports to cutting red tape for urgent bone-marrow transplants.

In a small state like South Carolina, Thurmond has probably done a favor for more than half the population, or someone in their family. It’s one reason why, along with his excellent staff, that he just may win his last hurrah.

Thurmond himself has seen how health influences politics. In 1954, he won his Senate seat when incumbent Burnet Maybank dropped dead of a heart attack.

“I hope I won’t have one,” says Thurmond.

To understand Thurmond, you must know his first 50 years, long before he became the grizzled elder statesman.

As a young man, he risked his life and his career many times. He loved women and danger.

Always flexible, he has changed from a race-baiting white supremacist before 1960 to a leading backer of civil rights.

In 1941, he braved an angry mob to take a suspected killer into custody. In 1944, he volunteered to ride a glider into Normandy on D-Day.

A showboat, he loved to be photographed with beautiful women and was married twice, each time to a woman far younger than he.

“What is more attractive than a pretty woman?” says Thurmond, eyes brightening.

Yes, he knows he’s politically incorrect but says, “I don’t see anything wrong with admiring pretty girls.”