Ethel Hooper was born in the 19th century, lived straight through the 20th century, was a widow for 74 years and finally succumbed to complications from the flu well into the 21st century.

She died March 20 with family at her side.

She was 108 and 8 months – and may have been the oldest person in Sacramento County, though she went to her grave believing it was impolite for anyone to ask her age.

Born in 1899 (the same year as Humphrey Bogart and Ernest Hemingway), Hooper was witness to two world wars, the Great Depression and pretty much the entire age of invention, from the telephone to the cell phone, the airplane to the jet engine, Corn Flakes, the Frisbee, instant coffee, TV, TiVo, the PC and the MP3.

She never drove a car or surfed the Web or sent an e-mail. She could have easily stated: "Been there, done that!" However, her longevity was no accident. She was health-conscious before there was a health movement, opted to walk most places instead of drive, was always picky about what she ate and never smoked or drank.

"She credits her longevity to that. She lived in Seattle for 50 years and walked everywhere," said Krista Vernon, the wife of grandson Herbert Hooper Jr.

Ethel Hooper was born and raised in Tuckaseigee, N.C., a small town near Asheville. By 19 she was married and by 34 was a widow, left to raise four children on her own. She never remarried.

After raising her children in Sedro-Woolley, Wash., she spent the next five decades in Seattle, pressing clothes at a dry cleaner. When she was 100, she decided she had had enough of the cold and wet weather of the Northwest and moved to Scottsdale, Ariz., to live with her daughter. Soon after, she began splitting her time between Sacramento and Scottsdale.

Though she suffered hearing loss later in life, Hooper was spry and healthy until well past 100. She maintained her own vegetable garden, including working the soil with a hoe, until she was 97.

Four years ago, she was in a car accident in Sacramento that left her with a cracked pelvis, forcing her to use a walker and a wheelchair, which she insisted on rolling under her own power.

Her family moved her into Sunrise Assisted Living, where she made many new friends and became known for singing hymns, even in her sleep. "Amazing Grace" was her favorite.

Though she was born during the William McKinley administration and some 50 years before the invention of the cake mix, Hooper always welcomed the technological innovations she encountered.

"When you think about everything she witnessed the invention of, which was practically everything, she wasn't shocked by it," Vernon said. "You could hand her a cell phone and she would say, 'Oh, this is nice.' "

An avid conversationalist, Hooper sometimes felt betrayed by her memory when she tried to recall old friends and neighbors.

"She would say, 'You know the guy down the street? Oh gosh, it drives me crazy that I can't remember his name' – well, that was 70 years ago," Vernon said.

In her later years Hooper was prepared for death. She had plenty of experience. Scores of friends and loved ones had gone before her, including her 21-year-old son killed in a logging accident. That tragedy loomed large in her heart the rest of her life.

"She was going to be with Jesus. She was very ready and knew that's where she was going," said Vernon. "We miss her because she was spunky and would say funny little things, but we know she was really ready. The quality of life at that age, what do you have to look forward to except visits from her family. Every friend she's ever had is gone and that can be lonely."