LANGDON, N.D. – Kathryn Shablow and Edna Rose of Langdon have been the best of friends for 95 years. Their lives have been intertwined since they were 3½ years old.

They've shared the good times and bad. They lived through the Great Depression and two world wars and have seen many changes in almost a century of living.

"We had lots of coffee," Rose said. "There were hard times. There was not a lot of money."

The two grew up on family farms near Dresden, N.D., northwest of Langdon, and later were neighbors in Langdon, where they now they live independently in Wheatland Estates senior apartments.

"We could always talk," Rose said. "We talk about everything under the sun."

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The women are nearing their 99th birthdays-Shablow's this month and Rose's in January.

They supported each other through difficult times, such as the passing of family members and the loss of their husbands.

"When we had trouble, we'd go to each other," Rose said. "Like children leaving home-that's always hard."

Despite the challenges, they've kept a positive outlook on life, they said. And it's a conscious decision to do so.

"I think that's why we're living so long," said Rose, with the big smile that lights up her face. "Now we talk about our aches and pains."

"We have a lot of that (here)," Shablow said. "We're thankful we have our memories-we have a few who forget.

"(One resident) took a bite out of a biscuit and put it back (on the plate)," she said with a laugh.

Except for a few complaint-worthy ailments, they enjoy quite good health.

"I lived in my own home until I was 94 years old," Shablow said. "Even washed my own windows."

Now, as the oldest resident in the apartment complex, she said, "When I'm sitting down, I think I can lick the world. When I get up, I can't do a damn thing."

"Both of us are the only ones left in our families," said Rose, who was born the youngest of six children.

Shablow was youngest of 12, born premature and weighing a little over 2 pounds.

"I was put on a pillow on an open oven door to stay warm," she said.

She survived at a time when no medical interventions were available and suffered no ill effects from her early arrival.

Common interests

Over the years, common interests cemented their friendship.

"We're interested in the same things," Rose said. "We're interested in each other's family and kids. Even in politics we agree-we're both Democrats."

In Rose's neat and cozy one-bedroom apartment, made more homey with crocheted afghans, treasured keepsakes and a lot of family photos, the two chatted about their lives and life in general.

"Did you get your letter from Hillary?" Shablow asked Rose. "They're looking for donations. My goodness, the election is more than a year away."

Noting Donald Trump's presidential candidacy, Rose said, "Well, one thing's for sure, he doesn't have to raise money."

The pair never really have disagreed about anything, Shablow said.

"We're compatible," Rose said. "We understand each other."

Before moving into the apartments, the two women lived across the street from each other for 37½ years.

"I could look across the street and see Edna rocking in her rocking chair on her porch," Shablow said. "I'd call up and say, 'I just made soup, you'd better come over and have a bowl of soup.' "

But their families were linked long before that.

Met in 1920

"We moved to North Dakota when I was 3½," Shablow said.

In March 1920, she had traveled by train with her mother and some of her siblings from Marshall, Minn., to Dresden. Her father and older siblings were already on the farm, which was near Rose's family farm.

"The next day, we all got sick with measles-probably got it on the train," Shablow said. "Dad went to ask (Rose's) father where he could find a doctor."

When the girls were about to start school in Dresden, Rose remembered how upset she was that she was not admitted.

"I cried and cried, because Kathryn could go to school and I couldn't; I was too young," she said. "Finally, Mother asked the teacher if I could start school, too, and she said OK."

Growing up, the two attended the same schools, took their first confirmation together and washed the glass bottles that Shablow's father, a dairy farmer, used to deliver milk and cream to customers.

"Milk was 8 cents a quart," Shablow said.

As high school students, they played piano duets for community and church events.

One winter, they lived together in Langdon, at a time when it was common for farm kids to live for the season in homes in town, where they worked for room and board, to be closer to school.

They graduated with nine classmates in 1934 from St. Alphonsus Catholic High School in Langdon.

"We always found a lot of things to do together," Rose said.

They were active in the Catholic Daughters organization and their church's altar society.

For several years, the two delivered Meals on Wheels, "probably to people younger than they were," said Rose's daughter, Peggy Norman of Baxter, Minn.

Unique experiences

After high school, Rose attended what is now Valley City State University to earn a teaching certificate and taught all grades in several rural schools in the Langdon area before marrying Edwin Rose. That decision ended her teaching career because at the time, married women were barred from teaching school.

She and Edwin raised six children and were married just more than 50 years when he died in 1991.

Shablow was employed in Langdon and took care of her aging parents.

"I worked at a store, the Federal Land Bank and the REA (Rural Electrification Administration) for 28 years," she said. "I quit when I got married."

At 57, she married Frank Shablow and became a stepmother to his two sons and step-grandmother to their children.

For 20 years, she went to Bismarck with her husband when he attended state legislative sessions.

"I couldn't even spell 'Democrat' when I first went there," Shablow said with a laugh. "I was apolitical."

Both women are impressed by changes that have impacted people, especially farm families, but not all are positive, they said.

"Parents don't have time, they're running their kids around," Rose said. "They're not able to spend time with each other."

"Neighbors don't visit with each other anymore," Shablow said. "In the old days, you knew if they came for a visit on Sunday, they'd stay for supper. You planned for it."

Over coffee and sweets at Rose's table, the two women continued to talk about their memories and past-with a glance to the future.

"We don't where the next place is that we're going to be," said Rose, pointing upward with a twinkle in her eye.

Without missing a beat, Shablow added, "They probably won't put us in the same room."

Deep connection

The bond that her mother and Shablow have is "positive and encouraging," Norman said.

"They finish each other's sentences and communicate in a way unknown to the stoic nature of other Germans in our family," she said.

"They are so sweet together. When I am with them, I feel I'm not even there-I feel invisible."

On Valentine's Day several years ago, Norman and her husband came to Langdon and took Rose, who had moved into her apartment but wasn't able get out a lot, to Shablow's home for a visit.

"I don't think they'd seen each other since before Christmas," she said. "Kathryn had set the table with her best china.

"They sat and held hands and talked. My husband and I looked at each other; we were just bystanders."