Betty McElwee (Gibson – Class of 1935) Celebrating 104 Years!
Posted on July 9, 2025
As you might expect, people are always asking Betty McElwee (Gibson) (class of 1935) for the secret to living a long life.
“All I can say is it’s attitude,” says Betty, whose 104 years have taken her through the Great Depression, World War II, tuberculosis and Covid-19. “Some people are grumpy,” she explains. “They complain about everything, they find fault with everything, there’s always something wrong.”
“Her attitude is amazing,” confirms Trish Groom (1966), whose late mother Peggy White (1939) was one of Betty’s dearest friends. “To still be living in her own home at nearly 105, basically doing her own cooking – she just keeps interested.” Betty’s son Scott (1976) agrees: “I came around here at 12 o’clock and she was busy doing the cleaning and washing up.”
Betty says she always did a lot of walking, but then again, she might have a glass of brandy two or three nights a week. Her own mother lived until 90. “I don’t know if I’ve had any say in it,” she says.
Betty first came to Friends’ in 1932, after Hobart Ladies College closed. Her first day at the School was not an easy one; a painfully shy 11-year-old, she had to stand in front of the class as she and another newcomer were introduced. She wasn’t interested in lessons, but she loved to run, and there were picnics and lots of uncles and aunts and cousins to see. She lived on Hill Street, opposite Train Park, and would walk to school and back up the hill afterwards, usually reading a book. “None of this driving around in cars,” says Betty, who often walked with Peg, also living in West Hobart then. “There were no buses or trams. You’d walk when it was pouring.”
She remembers going with Peg’s family to their holiday house in Opossum Bay. “We were very innocent young girls in those days, when I think now,” she says. “We weren’t into boys.” She and Peg liked to go to the pictures – at the Avalon, the Prince of Wales, His Majesty’s and the Variety Theatrette. “Some of those films were really good,” she says. “It wasn’t just glamour and sex.”
Both young women went to business school, before Peg went into the Airforce and Betty the Army. Betty says she was one of 16 Tasmanians booked to go overseas as a VAD (Voluntary Aid Detachment, to assist the Army nurses), but Japan’s entry into the war stymied that program. Tuberculosis kept her in bed for three months, and when she recovered she went into office work, typing and performing other secretarial duties in a government department. They called her Miss Gibson. “The first time anyone called me by my Christian name was when I went to work in Melbourne,” recalls Betty, a little shocked even now. “I put a smile on my face but I was thinking: We are complete strangers.” She’d later work for the premier Robert Cosgrove, in the Legislative Council, for royal commissions. She’d work for apple exporters and for a zinc company.
She met her husband Bert, a bomber pilot during the war, when she begrudgingly went away for the weekend with a female friend. “I did not want to go to St Helens,” she says. But there was Bert, flying Tiger Moths and offering joy rides. The two married in 1948. In 1950 they bought a piece of land in Mount Stuart and built a house with the help of Betty’s brother; a cousin drew up the plans. When they had Scott in 1957, Betty would walk to town with him in a pram.
After Bert died, in 1981, Betty didn’t return to paid work but she continued to contribute; Scott remembers her knitting beanies for the homeless – 780 beanies over 12 months. But now her vision is blurry, she’s unable to walk and she doesn’t trust the strength in one hand, making her beloved reading, knitting, gardening and trying new recipes no longer possible. “I’m very careful,” says Betty, “I’ve had two falls and it’s two too many.” But she is surrounded by people who care – friends, family and neighbours who visit her at the Mount Stuart house she built with her husband.
She does not accept that her extremely long life is any kind of achievement. “A lot of people say that,” says Betty, who’ll turn 105 in October, “but I’ve just got up and got on every day.”
