• Centenarians shared their life advice, emphasizing long-term investments and staying active.
• They stressed maintaining social connections and a youthful mindset for longevity.
• The U.S. has nearly 98,000 centenarians, with projections of 421,000 by 2054.

Americans who have made it to 100 years old have seen a lot: the Great Depression, the moon landing, 16 presidents, and the ups and downs of 2025.

Five centenarians — people who are at least 100 years old — told Business Insider that life keeps getting better in the triple digits, and shared their advice for a successful life and retirement. This included slow and deliberate investments, keeping busy however they could, maintaining friendships, and, as one put it, "thinking young."

Though these centenarians said they aren't as worried about money as much now that they're living with their children or grandchildren or in an assisted living facility, most stressed the importance of patience, giving to charity, and saving cautiously for the very long term.

Census population estimates from July 2024 show about 98,000 centenarians in the US, about 75% of whom are women. This number has nearly tripled since 1990. The Census Bureau projects over 421,000 Americans to be at least 100 years old by 2054, making up 0.1% of the US population.

Financial advice from centenarians

The most important financial advice the centenarians shared was saving whatever they could and letting it grow over time.

Jack Weber, 101, said one of the keys to his financial success was investment for the long term using excess funds, which he's planning to use to help his descendants. Weber, a Navy veteran who spent much of his life as a dentist, retired in 1984 after building a successful practice and investing in real estate, at one point paying mortgages on three houses.

"The stock market goes up and down today. We're in a terrible downturn in the market. But in the long run, over many years, the stock market always goes up," said Weber, who lives on Long Island.

Weber said starting small with investments is the way to go, adding people shouldn't go to the bank and put their money in a savings account that only gets 2% interest.

"Put it in a good solid stock, and a mutual fund is probably your best bet," Weber said, acknowledging that younger generations have faced more challenges buying a home.

Margaret Vaccaro, 102, added that having patience leads to better long-term financial outcomes. Vaccaro worked for much of her career in healthcare finance, including a 25-year stint as a certified director of patient accounts at a major hospital.

Though she lives at an assisted living facility in Peekskill, New York, Vaccaro still manages donations for the facility as a volunteer, writing letters to residents' contacts to raise money and overseeing holiday funds for non-management employees.

"If you watch your pennies, if you watch what you do, then when you need the dollars for a downpayment on that house or for a new car, you've got them," Vaccaro said.

While Helen Juanita Glover's late husband of 85 years handled their finances, she now lives on her pension and Social Security. Glover said she's found fulfilment throughout by giving money not saved for bills to her church and various charities.

"I don't think about inheriting or getting money and what I'm going to do with it," Glover, 107, said. "I think of who I'm going to give it to."

Staying busy and active

The centenarians stressed that they always had something to do and had something to strive toward, from writing a book to volunteering part-time. All discussed challenges such as outliving loved ones, and they've all discovered purpose through staying active.

Barbara Fleischman, 101, still invites friends over for meals, stays up to date on current events, and said she can't "just sit still." Fleischman, who spent her career volunteering with cultural institutions in New York, said the key to enjoying life a century in has been "making things better and more interesting," continuing to surround herself with people from all generations.

"I'm trying to learn something every day, and it's a very big challenge," Fleischman said.

Diane Volz, 102, spends hours each day writing her life story, which she hopes to share with younger generations. She spearheads a book club, reads newspapers daily, and stays on top of politics, not too different from her career in journalism. She also still dances in her bedroom, much like she did as a dancer for MGM — where she had a cameo in "Meet Me in St. Louis."

Weber packs his days with golf, swimming, and weight training — anything he can to "not sit in an armchair." After his wife's death 20 years ago, he committed to "get back into life again" instead of grieving, serving as the president of his area's Lions Club, driving to the grocery store, and sharing stories with others about his life.

After getting bored during the pandemic, he authored a memoir leading up to his 100th birthday about achieving a meaningful life, and he's starring in the upcoming documentary "Lessons From 100" shot by his grandson.

"You can't give up. You've got to fight and stay with it," Weber said.

Maintaining strong social circles

Though most of the centenarians said they've outlived their friends, many emphasized the importance of staying connected with family or seeking out younger friends and people searching for guidance.

Glover said she's coped with loss by seeking out connections at her church. Much like how she gave back to her church by teaching vacation bible school and serving as an organist, she said many give back to her. After her son died in February, she moved from California to North Carolina with her granddaughter and has committed to "starting a new life" at 107. She's adjusting to her new church and community, which has taken her in with open arms. She said younger people at her church call her "Auntie Helen."

Fleischman agreed that "If the community has been nice to you, you give back to the community." Fleischman said she's maintained strong social networks at her assisted living facility, regularly contacts people at museums and libraries to give talks, and acts as a support system to others in whatever way she can.

The key is to be "supportive, to listen, and to care," Fleischman said, adding she's found joy in surrounding herself with friends across generations.

For Weber, sometimes the quiet of his home is most fulfilling, acknowledging he wouldn't like being surrounded by strangers at a facility. His family often invites him to gatherings, while he's found connections at the Lions Club, delivering Thanksgiving baskets in recent years.

Weber said the reality of aging is being "the last one standing," adding that he's lost his good friends and that "time hangs heavy on your hands."

Both Weber and Volz stressed the importance of falling in love with something, whether it's a significant other, a career, or a life path. Volz said ignoring negative people and finding comfort in someone or something has driven her to stay happy.

'Thinking young'

Weber said his decision to "think young" has driven him to keep pushing at 101 — and act like he's much younger.

"Don't let the old man in," Weber said, adding he owns a black sweater with the phrase on it. He said it's empowered him to keep doing the physical and mental activities.

Though his muscles aren't like they used to be, he stressed feeling "like a million bucks" and refusing to adopt a "can't do this or can't do that" mentality has fueled him.

"I feel I'm very lucky and fortunate to be in good health and sound mind," Weber said. "Do I have some aches and pains? I sure do, but I don't talk about them and I don't let them run my life. I'm still in good enough health that I can still enjoy my rounds of golf."

Vaccaro added that she always focuses on what she'd "like to do tomorrow" instead of on the past. She still embraces being a mother as though she were in her 30s, and she's continued doing what she feels is right and authentic.

Glover wakes up each morning thinking as though she's "20 years younger," finding it "weird" she's outlived some of her loved ones. A "pleasant smile" goes a long way, she said, and she's embraced being as independent as she can to feel youthful. She still plays Scrabble with her grandchildren, tells knock-knock jokes to her friends, and starts every day with a donut.

• Shawn Ryan was a Navy SEAL for nearly six years, then joined the CIA.
• During these high-stress jobs, he was in a nearly constant fight-or-flight mode.
• After he left, he struggled to adapt to a normal life. He says a psychedelic experience helped.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Shawn Ryan, a former Navy SEAL and CIA contractor, and host of the "Shawn Ryan Show." It's been edited for length and clarity. Ryan is not a medical professional. Psilocybin is illegal in the US federally and in most states. There is no medical consensus about whether it has benefits, including those described below, and the drug comes with risks.

When I left the Navy, I wasn't ready for what came next.

I had been a SEAL for five and a half years. After that, I worked as a contractor with the CIA. The tempo stayed high. I did 60 days on, 60 days off, sometimes 45 and 45. I was still running hard, living in fight-or-flight mode. When that ended, I crashed—hard.

I didn't know how to slow down. I wasn't used to dealing with normal life. All I knew was intensity. I needed that adrenaline hit every day — and when I couldn't get it from missions anymore, I found other ways.

I got into sleeping pills. Ambien, Valium, Xanax, Lorazepam — you name it, I was taking it. On top of that, I was using opiates like hydrocodone and tramadol. Eventually, I moved out of the country and started living in Medellín, Colombia. That's where I got really into cocaine.

I would go into the worst neighborhoods I could find to score. I didn't want it easy, I wanted the risk, to feel something. When that got boring, I'd go to another country and do it again.

At my lowest point, I was drinking two fifths of vodka a day. I'd wake up with mini bottles stashed all around the house — under pillows, in drawers, in the car, in my coat pockets. After dinner, I'd go to the freezer, pull out a bottle, and that's how I'd wash down my sleep meds. Except by the end, they didn't even put me to sleep anymore.

In the morning, I'd take a stimulant — Adderall or something else — to start the cycle again. That was my life. It went on for years.

The 'death experience' that changed my life

Eventually, I hit a point where I knew I couldn't keep going. A friend told me about psychedelic therapy, and I decided to try it.

The first was Ibogaine. It's a 12-hour experience. I basically watched my entire life play out from a different perspective. Every memory, every trauma — it's all there.

After the Ibogaine effects wore off, I did another psychedelic called 5-MeO-DMT, sometimes called the "God molecule." The trip is described as an ego death, or death experience.

It was the most intense, intuitive thing I've ever felt. I came out of it seeing the world differently.

I could feel energy flowing from the ocean, onto the shore, through the trees. For the first time in my life, I realized everything is connected. Everything is one. That hit me in a way nothing else ever had.

When I came back from that psychedelic experience, I didn't need the pills anymore. I didn't need the vodka. I quit everything.

I've been sober for two and a half years. I quit smoking cannabis. I stopped using stimulants. And for the first time in a long time, I was fully present with my family.

That experience changed everything. It gave me a second chance.

That's why I started talking about this publicly on my podcast, the "Shawn Ryan Show." I wanted other veterans — other guys like me — to know there's a way out.

A lot of them have been through the same thing — addiction, trauma, broken families, suicidal thoughts. When they hear that someone else made it through, they start to believe that maybe they can too.

So many of us come back broken. We lose ourselves. We spiral. But healing is possible. Recovery is possible.

If you have a unique military story that you would like to share, please email the editor, Jessica Orwig, at [email protected].

This story was adapted from Ryan's interview for Business Insider's series, "Authorized Account." Learn more about his life before and after the Navy SEALs in the video below:

• Tensions continue in the South China Sea, most recently between China and the Philippines.
• China has been extending its reach in the South China Sea by building artificial islands atop reefs.
• China's claims over these islands is unlawful and many countries are fighting back.

Tensions between China and the Philippines are heating up over tiny sandbars and coral reefs in the South China Sea, and the US could get caught in the middle.

"We should be worried about it," Greg Poling, director of the Southeast Asia Program and Asia Maritime Transparency Initiative, told Business Insider.

The satellite images below show China's massive expansion across the South China Sea, which has turned open waters into a looming battleground that could rope the US in.

Over the last decade, China has expanded hundreds of miles south by building artificial islands over underwater reefs in the Paracel and Spratly Islands in the South China Sea.

This has been a yearslong power struggle between China and many countries, including the Philippines, Vietnam, and Taiwan, for control of dozens of disputed reefs, islands, and sandbars in the South China Sea.

Up to $5 trillion in goods are shipped across the sea a year.

The problem is that China's claims of sovereignty over these artificial landmarks are unlawful, according to the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS).

Mischief Reef is one of China's largest artificial islands in the Spratlys, spanning 1,380 acres, enough to fit 1.5 Central Parks.

Both the Philippines and China, as well as Taiwan and Vietnam, claim the reef as their own. However, a UN tribunal ruled in 2016 that no territory can claim it.

That didn't stop China from building an impressive military base there.

Satellite images show that China has militarized Mischief Reef with missile systems, fighter jets, naval ships, and more.

In recent months, multiple Chinese vessels in the South China Sea have threatened to collide with Philippine ships in a region called Scarborough Shoal, north of Mischief Reef.

Also in Scarborough Shoal, a Chinese Navy helicopter flew dangerously close, within 10 feet, of a Philippine patrol plane in February, AP reported.

Meanwhile, another recent conflict has flared over a disputed series of sandbar islands in the Spratlys called Sandy Cay.

Sandy Cay isn't an underwater reef. The islands remain above ground at high tide, which grants them legal status as a "rock" (or land surrounded by water) under UNCLOS.

This means that whoever is the rightful sovereign can also claim 12 nautical miles of the waters around it, Poling said.

Last week, Chinese state media released a photo of the Chinese coast guard holding the Chinese flag on Sandy Cay, claiming ownership.

Both China and the Philippines claim sovereignty over Sandy Cay, but neither has it legally.

Several days later, the Philippine coast guard responded, releasing a photo of its national guard holding a Philippine flag on Sandy Cay.

The photo-off on Sandy Cay is more of a stunt than a threat, Poling said.

However, if matters escalate in the South China Sea, particularly in Scarborough Shoal, the US has a mutual defense treaty with the Philippines, agreeing to come to its aid in the event of an armed attack. It hasn't reached that point and will likely deescalate before that, Poling said.

Subi Reef is another one of China's artificial islands outfitted with a military base.

"It is illegally occupied unless China can claim the territorial sea in which it sits," Poling said.

About 100 miles southwest of Subi Reef is Fiery Cross Reef.

While China, Vietnam, and the Philippines all lay claim to the reef, China's military presence gives it effective control.

However, China is no longer the only nation building artificial islands in the South China Sea.

Vietnam has greatly developed part of the Barque Canada reef over the last several years.

Vietnam is also developing on Discovery Great Reef, another underwater region in the Spratly Islands.

At 118 acres, though, it's nowhere near the scale of some of China's developments on Mischief, Subi, and Fiery Cross Reefs.

"The Philippines, Vietnam, even Malaysia and Indonesia have done a pretty good job holding firm," Poling said, adding that, "I think China just believes it can outlast the other claimants, and that if it keeps up this persistent cycle of pressure, eventually they'll all crack."

Learn more about what's been happening in the South China Sea in the video below:

• Shawn Ryan didn't leave the Navy SEALs because he was done with combat. He still enjoyed the rush.
• He left because he saw what being a SEAL for 20-plus years did to his teammates.
• Now, he uses his experience to help other veterans and active-duty members.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Shawn Ryan, a former Navy SEAL and CIA contractor, and host of the "Shawn Ryan Show," a podcast sharing uncensored, first-person stories from military veterans, law enforcement officers, and other high-stakes careers. It has been edited for length and clarity.

One of the reasons I left the Navy SEALs after nearly six years was that I didn't get enough action.

I was very gung-ho about going to war.

I'd seen combat in Haiti, Afghanistan, and Iraq, but the reality is, you might re-up for another six years and only spend a small part of that actually in combat. The rest is training and waiting.

I also saw what 20-plus years as a SEAL will do to somebody — to their body and to their home life.

A lot of us have the same injuries and the same symptoms, like back and knee issues, PTSD, and traumatic brain injury. Plus, pretty much everybody I knew was divorced, had been divorced, or was getting a divorce. A lot of them didn't know their kids very well.

Your platoon, your teammates, are your primary family. The families are secondary. I knew that if I stayed at the rate I was going, I would be a very lonely person come retirement.

How I became a Navy SEAL

I didn't even know what a Navy SEAL was when I decided to join the US military.

I tried the Marine Corps first. They told me I had to go infantry. Then I went to the Army, told them I wanted to be a Green Beret. They kind of laughed me out of the office.

A Navy recruiter saw me and said, "Hey, have you ever thought about the SEAL teams?" He gave me a pamphlet. That's how it started.

I went to the library and checked out every book I could possibly find on special operations and Navy SEALs; watched all the documentaries on National Geographic and Discovery; and decided that's what I'm going to do.

I didn't leave the SEALs because I was done with combat

I made it through BUD/S (Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL) and deployed to Haiti in 2004. It was civil unrest everywhere, but our duties were reconnaissance missions that involved basically flying on a helicopter every morning over various towns to report back about the civil unrest.

It wasn't enough action for me, and made me really hungry for more. I wanted to go to the Middle East.

In Iraq, we got sent out with conventional units that were getting hit with IEDs and ambushes. We'd go in, train them up, then take them out on real missions and kill the guys that were killing them.

My transition to normal life was difficult

After leaving the Navy, I worked for the CIA for a while, which was similar in intensity but paid four to five times more than what I made as a SEAL.

After leaving the CIA, I moved out of the country to Colombia and got really into cocaine and alcohol. It became a vicious cycle, but eventually I climbed out of it and moved back to the US and launched my podcast the "Shawn Ryan Show."

I wanted to document history from veterans' perspectives. I was tired of the mainstream media telling military stories wrong.

Everybody that I brought on the podcast at the beginning had been through the low points, the addictions to adrenaline, to substance abuse, to broken families, to suicide attempts. Many have also found some form of success through entrepreneurship.

We've been running the show since 2019 and are approaching our 200th episode now. I've interviewed many active military members and veterans, and one thing I've learned is that people benefit from hearing their stories.

If I hadn't left the SEALs and had all the experiences I've had, I wouldn't have met my wife, created this podcast, and met the people who have become my extended family.

When people hear that someone else made it through, they start to believe that maybe they can too.

If you have a unique military story that you would like to share, please email the editor, Jessica Orwig, at [email protected].

This story was adapted from Ryan's interview for Business Insider's series, "Authorized Account." Learn more about his life before and after the Navy SEALs in the video below:

Flight anxiety among passengers is soaring amid high-profile crashes and technical problems. In a poll commissioned by The Points Guy, nearly 90% of respondents said they were afraid to fly. It's made flight attendants' jobs harder. When travelers are nervous, there's a risk of unruly behavior. But whether it's passenger misconduct or a crash landing, flight attendants are often the first line of defense. They're not just there to serve drinks; they're trained in firefighting, water and land evacuations, first aid, and self-defense. As the number of airplane passengers is expected to hit a record high in 2025, can flight attendants keep everyone safe?

• Arno Michaelis was drawn into the neo-Nazi ideology at age 16.
• He spent seven years as a white nationalist, living in constant fear and hate of everyone unlike him.
• After leaving that life behind, he finally found what he'd been searching for all along.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Arno Michaelis, a former neo-Nazi who works with the organization Parents for Peace that helps radicalized individuals. It's been edited for length and clarity.

For seven years, I was a white nationalist skinhead and the front man of a neo-Nazi metal band based in Milwaukee.

During that time, I lived in fear and anger, driven by a violent ideology that twisted history into mythology and cast me as a hero in a delusional war.

However, that "heroism" was hollow. The life I led was toxic to myself and everyone around me.

How I became a neo-Nazi

I was drawn in when I was 16. I was an angry, lonely kid, searching for something: identity, purpose, belonging.

I found it, or thought I did, in a fantasy: the idea that I was part of a master race under siege.

I was into Greek and Norse myths as a kid, and Nazi ideology sold itself as the real-life version. It told me I was one of the "noble few" standing up against dark, corrupting forces.

That story was intoxicating, and listening to it through the music drew me in.

I wasn't a real musician. I couldn't carry a tune, but I could scream loud enough to whip a crowd into a frenzy, and that was enough.

Our goal was to spread the ideology through music, to indoctrinate others like I had been. Music was the device that allowed us to feel united and righteous in our hate.

Being a neo-Nazi, though, wasn't empowering, it was exhausting.

I lived in constant anger, fear, and hate

Everyone who doesn't look or think like you is seen as a threat. You wake up angry and go to bed angry. The only relief is violence, and even that doesn't satisfy for long.

We justified brutal attacks — what we called "boot parties" — on people we saw as enemies: people of color, LGBTQ folks, Jews, punks, anyone who wasn't us.

I'd hear a quiet voice inside asking, "What are you doing? This guy didn't do anything to you. You don't even know him," but I didn't have the courage to listen.

I told myself I was protecting my race, but the truth is, I was addicted to hate, and somewhere deep down, I knew it.

I'm an alcoholic. I drank profusely from the time I was 14 until I was 34. There were days when I was like, "I just, I can't do this anymore. I'm so tired of it."

Hate's the same way.

I was going through life in constant fear and hate of everyone who didn't look and think like me, and I got sick and tired of it.

The push I needed to get out

By 1994, I was looking for a way out, but leaving wasn't easy.

Being a neo-Nazi gave me status. I was a reverend in a so-called racial holy war. I had groupies and was a "founding father" of my band.

Outside that fantasy, though, I was a high school dropout and an alcoholic who couldn't pay my bills and had to move back in with my mom and dad.

It was intimidating to give up all of this, albeit false, status and face the cruel reality of the hole I had dug for myself.

It was going to require something drastic to give me the push I needed.

In early 1994, the mother of my daughter and I broke up, and I found myself a single parent to our 18-month-old. Two months later, a second friend of mine was shot and killed in a street fight. By then, I'd lost count of how many friends had been incarcerated.

It finally hit me that if I didn't leave, prison or death would take me from my daughter. That was the push I needed, so I walked away.

My life is better without fear and hate

The hate didn't end overnight, but freedom came in stages: listening to music I actually liked and going to a Packers game without the guilt of feeling like I was playing into the pop culture propaganda designed to corrupt the will of the white man.

A year and a half after leaving, I was on the South Side of Chicago at 4 a.m., dancing to house music with 3,000 people of every ethnicity, gender, and background. That's when I knew I was free.

That night, I realized something profound: what I had been searching for all along — belonging, joy, connection — wasn't found in hate, it was in community.

There were moments along the way that gave me glimpses of that truth: a Jewish boss, a lesbian supervisor, and Black, Latino, and Asian coworkers. People who treated me with kindness when I least deserved it, but most needed it.

That's what undid me, in the best way. Their compassion made me see who I could become if I let go of the lies.

Today, I work with Parents for Peace, an organization that helps people caught in extremism find a healthier, more connected life. We support individuals on their journey — whether they're questioning, struggling, or still deeply entrenched — and we guide families trying to reach a loved one.

I believe that accountability isn't just about admitting guilt, it's about using your story to make sure the cycle stops with you.

I live with deep regret for the harm I caused, but I know I can never undo it. What I can do is work to prevent more pain, and in doing so, I've found a life I never thought was possible: a life without fear, anger, or hate.

If you or someone you know is struggling with extremism, Parents for Peace offers confidential support for families and individuals. Learn more at Parents for Peace.

This story was adapted from Michaelis' interview for Business Insider's series, "Authorized Account." Learn more about his life before and after neo-Nazism in the video below: