UPDATED at 5:15 p.m. Dec. 29, 2018: This story has been updated with details about Overton's memorial service.
The nation's oldest man has died.
Richard Overton, a lifelong Austin resident and also the oldest U.S. veteran, died Thursday at age 112.
Overton was released Monday from a hospital where he was being treated for pneumonia and moved into an Austin rehabilitation facility. He died there after 5 p.m., according to his third cousin, Volma Overton.
"We are thankful for everything he's done for the family, for the world," Volma said through tears. "We're going to miss him."
Overton was born on May 11, 1906, the same year as the first wireless radio broadcast, and a year before Oklahoma became a state. He was 5 years old when the Titanic sank.
The Army veteran fought in World War II in a segregated unit. After returning from war, he spent the bulk of his career working at furniture stores, then at the Texas Department of Treasury.
Lately, Overton had spent many of his days on the front porch of the home he built 70 years ago. His friends called it his "stage." It's on Richard Overton Avenue, as the town renamed the street for his 111th birthday. That's where Overton smoked his 12 daily cigars -- Tampa Sweet Perfectos -- and sometimes enjoyed his favorite drink, a whiskey and Coke.
Every day, strangers stopped by the house to take his picture or shake his hand. Unlike most celebrities, he lived an entire life of anonymity before acquiring his fame. In 2006, at age 100, he was just a retired man who liked garage sales, yard work and driving his Monte Carlo.
Then he got to 106. He met President Barack Obama, politicians, athletes and celebrities. Comedian Steve Harvey once asked him his secret. Overton's reply?
"Just keep living, don't die."
Overton was hospitalized on Dec. 12 with pneumonia, and his family asked his adoring public for prayers. He had dealt with the same illness multiple times in 2018, requiring trips to and from the hospital.
On Thursday night, Gov. Greg Abbott released a statement offering his thoughts and prayers to Overton's family and friends.
"With his quick wit and kind spirit he touched the lives of so many, and I am deeply honored to have known him," Abbott said. "Richard Overton made us proud to be Texans and proud to be Americans."
The past few years on May 11, huge birthday bashes were held on his front lawn, with DJs, food and drinks. Hundreds of people lined up to take a photo with Overton like kids waiting to meet Santa Claus.
"He's a damn rock star," Volma said back in May. "And he knows it. He kind of rides that a little bit."
Volma remembers celebrating Overton's 95th birthday 17 years ago. That's when he first realized his third cousin might live a long life.
"When I saw him, I was like, 'He ain't 95.' He was running around slapping everybody on the back, moving fast around the house. He was still driving his truck. After that, he was just Richard."
Overton liked listening to the Isley Brothers and usually wore his favorite WWII veteran hat. He even exercised, swinging his legs back and forth as he sat.
He enjoyed sweet things. Every morning, his caregivers made him multiple cups of coffee, with three spoonfuls of sugar and a plastic straw. He liked waffles, pancakes or cinnamon rolls for breakfast. He enjoyed ice cream and peach cobbler for dessert. He loved Dr Pepper, which he called "sweet juice."
But nothing beat his favorite routine.
"Sitting around on the porch, watching the world go 'round," his close friend, Martin Wilford, said in May.
In December 2016, a family member created a GoFundMe page to finance his 24/7 in-home care. The page raised more than $450,000, and helped keep Overton in the home he built.
The caretakers did anything he wanted. Massaged his feet. Pulled up the blinds. Poured him a whiskey and Coke. Sat with him on the stage.
"On the front porch together, we talk," Tanisha Gloude, one of Overton's caretakers, said in May. "About the neighbors, about the people driving too fast down the street. About that person walking the dog. About another person running. Just random things."
In the past year, the supercentenarian had some highs and lows. In April, he went on his first private jet ride to Washington, D.C., for a tour of the National Museum of African American History and Culture. But in late June, Overton's family members learned that his identity was stolen and that his personal bank account had been drained. Days later, Bank of America restored the stolen funds in full.
Overton outlived his six sisters, three brothers, wife
ex-wife. He never had kids.
He'll be buried in the Texas State Cemetery on January 12. Volma Overton said that when trying to schedule the memorial service, that was the next available date that worked best for the family.
"And my wife pointed out to me, 'Richard is going to be buried on one-one-two,'" Volma said. "Isn't that something?"
As Overton aged, he never worried about death.
"I didn't know when I came here, and I don't know when I'm going," he'd often say. "That's God's work."
Memorial service
An 11 a.m. memorial service will begin at Shoreline Church (15201 Burnet Rd, Austin), followed by a committal service at 2 p.m. at the Texas State Cemetery (909 Navasota St., Austin). A celebration of Overton's life will follow at 3:30 p.m. at Stubb's Austin (801 Red River St, Austin).
All events are open to the public, but capacity is limited. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you make donations to Honor Flight Austin.
