Miss Mary points at the inquisitive woman in the photo. "Oh, yes," she says, "that was my first ride on an elephant."

Born in Washington, Pennsylvania on November 9, 1896, Mary Fulton has lived a fascinating life. Traveling was her passion, and her collection of photographs is evidence of an adventurous spirit. "I crossed the equator seven times, I think," she says. "And I've been around the world many times. I didn't miss a thing!"

As a child, Fulton learned of the world from stories her mother read to her. "I would always say, 'Mother, when I get older, I'm going to travel.'" Though she dreamed of having sons with military careers, Fulton never had children. After her husband died in 1950, Fulton began exploring the world in earnest. "My first trip was by myself," she reports. "But I found it was better to join a group because of the money and the language. It's pretty hard traveling by yourself."

Fulton tried to sample the exotic cuisine of each country she visited. Never afraid of new experiences, she rode camels through the Sahara and sailed the South Pacific. In a 1975 trip to China, she was badly injured during a fall while chasing deer. "That was a disappointment, because I was on my way to Easter Island in South America!" she recalls.

After she stopped traveling, Fulton came to South Carolina with a niece who was living here. She has resided at Myrtle Beach Manor since 1996. Though she has no remaining family, Fulton has befriended admissions director Mary Bradford and her son Aaron, who is in the Marine Corps. "I told her, 'He can be your son, too!'" says Bradford.

What advice can Miss Mary offer people who want to live to be 100 or older? "I'd hate to try to comment on that! Everybody has to live his own life." But she does have a few words of wisdom for her fellow adventurers. "I've always said, 'If you're going to travel, get the best you can. You may have to pay a little more, but you'll get back home safely!"

Still eloquent at 103, Fulton confesses that she doesn't think about the millennium very much. "I just know that it's making me older!" However, she says she is ready to travel again – this time, on the ultimate adventure. "I've seen the old world, and I'm so anxious to see if the new world will be as grand!"

At 105 years of age, Carmela Laurino may be the oldest woman in Horry County. In a Neapolitan accent that still lingers, she talks about her upbringing. "Sure I speak Italian! I was born in Italy!" she chuckles.

Laurino was born on October 14, 1894. "I came from a town called Picierno. My father's name was Savino Nortafrancesca. We were seven girls and one boy. We did everything for my brother!"

As a young woman of 24, Laurino followed several of her sisters and emigrated to New York City. Though she spoke no English, she immediately began working as a dressmaker at French Models, a busy department store. "They gave you the bundle of fabric, and you had to do everything, iron, stitch, give back the finished dress," she says. "For me, it was nothing! It took three or four days."

Marie Caliendo of Surfside Beach is Laurino's daughter. She explains that her mother married a distant cousin, Gerald Laurino, in 1929. A master tailor, Mr. Laurino did alterations for Lord & Taylor, and was promoted to the fitting department for the Big Apple's most exclusive store. He passed away in 1981, and Carmela Laurino still misses him. "My husband was a good-looking man," she says proudly. "And a very good man, in every way."

Tim Shockley, East Wing ward clerk at Conway Hospital's Kingston Nursing Center, where Laurino has lived since January 1997, reports that Laurino never leaves her room without her "eyebrows", drawn carefully by a nurse with a makeup pencil each morning. He also says that her favorite meal is pancakes with extra syrup. Laurino comments, "When I was young, I took black coffee for breakfast; I never ate, never got fat. Now I eat everything! I'm not particular."

Laurino believes in the importance of a virtuous life. "My father always said, 'Respect is what you make for yourself.'" she says. "I respected myself, I respected everyone, and everybody respected me, too."

Like Mary Fulton, Miss Carmela believes she will be reunited with her family in the afterlife, and she's trying to be patient. "Every night I ask God to come and take me away. The more I ask, the more God says, 'I'll take you when I want, not when you want.' I think I'm gonna live till 200!"

Born on April 29, 1897, Ola Rowell may not be the oldest person in Horry County, but she might be one of the happiest. Miss Ola has lived in Loris all her life, most of it in the same little neighborhood. After her house was torn down about 57 years ago, she moved down the street to the humble, immaculate cottage where she lives now.

Astonishingly, she lives alone.

Still able to dress and bathe herself, and to walk indoors without a cane, Rowell, who is mostly a vegetarian, does her own cooking. "I cook turnips and rutabagas. And grits and tomatoes – I like that!" she says with relish.

With a big grin, Rowell says she is content. "Happy? Oh yeah, why not? I'm blessed! I'm old, but I still get around by myself. I'm satisfied living like this! Sometimes I get a little lonely, but the Lord takes care of me."

Her niece Marcella Green, who lives nearby, brings groceries to Rowell and visits her at least twice a day. Green reports that Rowell's other nieces and nephews are frequent visitors. "She raised us, beat us, fed us, just like a mama! We all come check on her now," Green laughs.

The oldest of eight children, Rowell was born to a Loris farm family. She married Greely Rowell, a farmer, when she was twenty. Before his death almost five decades ago, Rowell's husband worked at Hardwick Funeral Home in Loris. Rowell raised two boys not her own: a sister's child, P.J. Rowell, who lives in a local nursing home, and Willie Stevens, now deceased. She helped keep an eye on many of the local children, as well.

Her early days were hard, but Rowell says she didn't mind. "Life was good," she recalls. "I worked with a hoe, and I suckered tobacco."

Green explains. "They called it suckering tobacco back then. You walked down a row and broke the top off the plant with your hand." The process of hand-suckering the terminal bud from tobacco plants has been replaced with chemical control programs, but Rowell once worked at it side by side with her husband.

Rowell has never driven a car or owned a telephone. Though she has a television, she usually ignores it. "Mostly she sits in the house, dips snuff, and looks out the window," Rowell's niece smiles.

Rowell has been a member of Mount Roma Baptist Church, just a few hundred yards from her house, for many years. "I haven't been goin' like I used to," she says, "because I can't get around." However, she still receives communion from the Mount Roma pastor and deacon, who visit her at home.

Not surprisingly, Rowell's great faith has been a source of comfort for many years. "The Lord has blessed me to live to see another Christmas!" she shouts with delight. What's her secret for living such a long life? Miss Ola lifts her hand and points toward the heavens. "Oh! Honey, I don't know. Ask the man up there."