CONFIDENTIAL FILE

Labor Force Exile Because She’s 65

Nellie Malone is 65 years old and proud of it.

But she’s not very proud of the position to which she’s been relegated by society.

"I guess they want me to die," she explained to me a few days ago.

"But," she added, "I’ll be darned if I will. I’m just stubborn enough to outlive all of you."

Nellie is one of the legion of women in this town who have been exiled from our labor force because they’re "too old to work."

Yesterday, I interviewed an experienced executive secretary who was "too old" at 45. The consensus of prejudices of the bright young men in industry’s personnel departments condemned her to decrepitude 20 years before she’ll reach Nellie’s age.

In some instances, the line is drawn at 35.

But, wherever it’s drawn, it’s a nonsensical line. To indiscriminately shelve a high percentage of the able working force in any community just doesn’t make for sound economics.

And Nellie Malone is the first to testify to it.

"I don’t want charity," she told me. "I don’t want my neighbors to have to pay for my right to live.

"I’ve got good legs, good feet. I can stand up alongside any clerk in any store.

"The trouble is," she added, "I can’t get past the personnel interviews to prove it."

Nellie lives — so to speak — on a $63.30 monthly Social Security check, supplemented by occasional baby-sitting, nursing and domestic work.

Most of her "profits" she spends on phone calls, bus fares and newspaper ads in search of steady employment.

A couple of weeks ago, there was the classified ad for 20 salesladies inserted in a metropolitan newspaper by a downtown department stores.

Mrs. Malone was first in line to answer it.

"I’m especially experienced in bedding," she told her interviewer, "In 1952, I headed a store’s bedding department."

"Fine," she was told. "You’re just the woman we need."

But then she made a mistake. She gave her true age — 65.

The store’s policy: Nobody over 55 gets hired.

"That’s the story every time," she told me. "If it’s not 55, it’s 50 or 45 or 40. Last Christmas time I did get a month and a half of work fancy-wrapping gifts in a department store. We stood and wrapped all day long.

Scrubbing Hard at 65

"The younger girl I worked with complained about being tired sometimes, but frankly, to me, it was a lot easier than lifting heavy patients around or scrubbingsomebody’s ceiling."

Mrs. Malone sighed.

"I love my freedom," she said. "I have my own friends, run my own home, but how can I run my own life on $68 a month?"

Mrs. Malone’s husband died in 1950.

"What money we had saved went for his hospital and funeral bills, but I could make it fine now if someone would wake up and realize that I’m still healthy and alive.

"Even though," she added thoughtfully, "some people are trying to starve me to death, I’m going to keep fighting."

I hope it’s not a losing battle.