MIDDLEBURY — Joyce Marshall lives by a heartwarming credo that, if emulated globally, would prevent a lot of suffering.

“The main thing is keeping happy,” she said. “Everything else will go along fine if you have a good spirit and love everybody. I don’t have any enemies, and I don’t hate anybody.”

It’s a principle that has sustained Joyce for 100 years. She officially joined the centenarians’ club on Oct. 21 and still finds plenty of reasons to wake up in the morning and discover new things.

Most folks who meet Joyce are incredulous to learn she’s logged a century on life’s odometer.

She remains sharp, alert and vital.

Her salt-and-pepper hair is proudly coiffed atop a kind, gentle face that exudes a healthy glow and bears some well-earned furrows that belie a life of productivity and service to others.

Her one concession to Father Time is the walker she deftly steers around the small home she shares with three parakeets and a cat named Gracie. 

Joyce loves to chat; just make sure to bring your voice up a few decibels.

She was born on Oct. 21, 1923, to Hazel and Wilbur Goodrich, on a small dairy farm off Shard Villa Road in West Salisbury.

It was an eventful year that saw, among other things, the creation of the Republic of Turkey, the opening of King Tut’s burial chamber in Egypt, the inaugural baseball game at the original Yankee Stadium, and Adolph Hitler’s failed attempt to overthrow the Bavarian government through the so-called “Beer Hall Putsch” in Munich.

Being part of a family farm meant pitching in with chores, and Joyce and her five siblings did their share. Two assignments stand out for Joyce — being placed in charge (with a brother) of milking the cows when dad fell ill for a week, and spending a summer operating a horse-drawn rake to gather hay across the farm fields.

She, her brothers and sisters attended a one-room schoolhouse in West Salisbury through the eighth grade, and then it was on to Middlebury High School (MHS).

These were the days before there were school buses, which created transportation challenges for many families — including the Goodrich clan. Joyce’s dad didn’t drive, and her mom did so infrequently. The former train service from West Salisbury to Middlebury solved the school transportation problem for a few of Joyce’s older siblings, but the family had to find a different solution so the younger children could attend MHS.

Ultimately, Wilbur and Hazel Goodrich rented a room from a Middlebury family for their younger children to stay weekdays during the academic year.

“My mother would cook up food over the weekend and she’d bring us out to our rooming place Sunday night, and then she’d pick us up Friday afternoon after school to take us home,” Joyce said.

This was an era (the late 1930s) during which cars were still somewhat of a luxury for those living in rural states. Unpaved roads were more the norm than the exception.

“We had a lot of kids in the neighborhood, and back then you could sled down the hills in the road because you weren’t afraid of cars,” Joyce recalled with a chuckle.

She enjoyed school, especially lessons on typing, shorthand and bookkeeping. These skills would come in handy for Joyce in her later involvement with two family businesses — Marshall Hardware and Marshall Alarms & Lock Service.

Both businesses bore the name of Joyce’s future husband — Cary Marshall, her high school sweetheart. Cary joined the U.S. Army (infantry) upon graduating from MHS. During a week of Army leave, Cary proposed to Joyce. She gleefully said “Yes!” but because Cary wasn’t yet 21 (he was 20), he had to get his parents’ consent before he could legally marry in Vermont.

To his immense relief, his dad consented. With time quickly lapsing on Cary’s Army leave, he and Joyce hurried over to the home of Middlebury’s Methodist minister. There, with the minister’s wife as a witness, the young duo exchanged vows that would lead to a 79-year marriage.

It’s a union that was almost tragically dissolved by world events.

While Joyce held down the fort at home, Cary was shipped overseas to fight in World War II. He was seriously wounded during the Battle of the Bulge (Dec. 16, 1944 – Jan. 25, 1945), the last major German offensive on the Western Front. Cary, a Purple Heart recipient, spent a year healing from his wounds.

LARGE FAMILY 

And heal he did. Cary transitioned from the military to a job at Marshall’s Hardware, a business his dad had started in downtown Middlebury. Joyce helped out with bookkeeping and other administrative tasks when she wasn’t immersed in her second fulltime job: Tending to a group of children that would swell to seven.

Cary and Joyce would eventually take over hardware store, which they relocated to a spot off Seymour Street where the Fire & Ice Restaurant currently stands.

After the couple sold the store during the late-1960s, Cary decided to become a locksmith and alarm specialist. One of the Marshalls’ sons would take over the alarm business, but Cary remained a locksmith into his 80s. He passed away in 2019 at the age of 96.

Joyce’s last job was as a bookkeeper for the Addison Central Supervisory Union. She did that for 10 years.

While long-since retired, Joyce has remained active; her favorite pastime is playing Bingo. She’s a regular at the Middlebury Legion’s Wednesday Bingo nights, and she attends a monthly game hosted by the Shriners in Burlington.

She described her Bingo luck as being “off and on,” but the prospect of winning isn’t the only draw for her.

“I see the same people week after week; they’re like family,” she said.

ACTIVE MIND, ACTIVE BODY

Joyce remains a voracious reader (she loves a good mystery story) and enjoys doing word puzzles.

While her advanced age prevents her from doing cartwheels, Joyce says, “I keep moving. You’ve got to keep moving and not just watch TV.”

Maintaining an active mind and body are part of a regimen that’s contributed to Joyce’s longevity.

She doesn’t smoke or drink alcohol. She eats in moderation and is a particular fan of Italian food.

Joyce doesn’t consume a lot of sweets but won’t refuse a slice of apple pie.

“Once in a while I get a hankering for chocolate,” she added mischievously.

Good genes are, of course, crucial to the prospect of living a long life, and Joyce has that covered. Her mom lived to be 100 and one of her sisters made it to 105.

She’d like to eclipse her sister’s family record.

“I’m not ready to die yet,” she said, beaming. 

Daughter Jenne Morton looks upon her mom with admiration and awe.

“She’s helped all of us,” she said. “She has, at one point, taken so many kids in. I was a single parent going to school and she would watch my kids on weekends. Almost every one of my nieces and nephews has lived (at her house) at one point when they were struggling or needed a place. She’s always given of herself so much to her family.”

Around 90 people helped Joyce celebrate her landmark birthday at Middlebury American Legion Post 27. She was thrilled to see her six living children — Beverlee, Dale, Jenne, Peg, Karen and Cary Jr. — together in one place again. Her daughter Judy succumbed to lung cancer in 2014 at age 56.

It’s a family tree with many branches. In addition to her children, Joyce has 16 grandchildren, 25 great-grandchildren and two great-great grandchildren. She keeps track of her living legacy through a family tree poster that adorns her living room wall. Each branch includes a photo spread that’s periodically updated as new children are born.

“When we get together, we have five generations,” she said proudly.

Those fortunate enough to make 100 often require a lot of TLC to keep going.

Not Joyce.

“Sometimes I wish she’d ask for more help,” Jenne said.

Reporter John Flowers is at [email protected].