Rose Gottlieb takes some kidding from Stew LaCasce, right, and his partner, Bob LaCasce, as they go around the walking track at the Udall Center.

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The key to staying young is to laugh, contribute to your community, have a purpose and always learn. At least that's what's worked so far for Rose Gottlieb and Jessie Pergrin. And at 82 and 80, respectively, they seem to be in a position to know.

The two Tucson women have been named Ageless Heroes by Blue Cross Blue Shield of Arizona. Gottlieb was honored in the Love of Learning category, and Pergrin was singled out as a Champion for Health. The award goes to people age 65 or older who've been nominated in one of six categories. The winners are selected from more than 250 nominations and were honored at a luncheon in Phoenix.

Rose Gottlieb, 82

Gottlieb was celebrated for her commitment to education, as both a student and a teacher. She graduated from Pima Community College with an associate's degree in liberal arts at age 72.

"I was a post-Depression baby, so therefore I never had a chance to go to college," she said. She graduated from high school at 15. "At that time, girls usually went to business school and were secretaries. That's what I did."

But Gottlieb longed for college. She raised two children in Westchester County, N.Y., and worked for years at the family's photo-finishing business with with her husband, Walter, whom she describes as "the most marvelous man God ever created."

After Walter died, Gottlieb fell into a depression for two years. "Then I got up and said, 'You know, depression really sucks.' "

She moved to Tucson, where her daughter Hildy was living, and settled in. She decided it was her turn for college.

"Everybody I knew when I got married were professionals, my husband was a professional, my kids went to college," Gottlieb said. She enrolled at PCC. "I absolutely loved it. I loved it for the fact that my age made no difference. The kids were there, I was there."

Gottlieb has volunteered throughout her life and now offers her time to help others learn. For the past three years, she's been a pretend patient at University Medical Center, helping medical students learn how to diagnose illnesses and talk to people. The "patients" are given symptoms to complain about and describe, and the budding doctors must diagnose them.

"Sometimes we go where the doctor has to give us very bad news, like somebody came in for a routine procedure and died," Gottlieb said. "How does the person react? That's up to the role player to do that; you can do whatever you want, curse, scream."

Gottlieb is also part of the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute, formerly known as SAGE, through the University of Arizona's continuing education program, which offers noncredit classes taught by and for seniors. She's offered several courses on humor, exploring Jewish humor and a recent classes dubbed "What's So Funny?"

People in the class talked about what they found funny and even brought in tapes of their favorite comedy. "There must be at least a dozen kinds of humor — ethnic humor, humor about sex, seniors, puns," Gottlieb said. "We could bring in jokes, they could be in good taste, some could be off-color — I mean, we're all seniors.

"I love humor," she said. "Life seems to tickle me."

Jessie Pergrin, 80

Pergrin spent her career in nursing. She's spending her retirement in nursing, too.

Except Pergrin never really retired. She may not have a steady full-time job anymore, but she volunteers, running three support groups for Alzheimer's caregivers.

Nursing wasn't her initial choice in college, she said. But after one semester of home economics courses at Ohio State University in the 1940s, Pergrin discovered it wasn't for her. She'd volunteered at the local hospital in Columbus, Ohio, and realized she wanted to spend her life helping people.

"I guess I was more people-oriented, working with patients one-to-one," Pergrin said. "I've never regretted it."

Pergrin went into public-health nursing, working in the Bronx and Harlem in New York City. She moved to Michigan and continued in public health, while earning a master's degree. She finished her education at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill with a doctorate in epidemiology.

She moved to Tucson for a job at the UA College of Nursing in gerontology, the care of older people. She eventually became the chair of the master's program in gerontology. She officially retired in 1989 but hasn't slowed down.

Pergrin said she's in excellent health, which she attributes to, not surprisingly, living a healthy life. She grew up hiking and playing sports and continues to be active. She never smoked or drank alcohol, and eats well. "My health habits from when I was younger are paying off."

But Pergrin knows that sometimes the best habits in the world can't keep away every illness. Her focus now is helping people who care for loved ones with Alzheimer's disease. She runs three support groups and counsels people who call her for a word of encouragement or advice. Plus, she helps care for three friends, taking them to medical appointments and keeping in touch with their out-of-town children.

Pergrin knows firsthand how devastating Alzheimer's can be. Her mother, Doris Belle Pergrin, died of the disease in 1992.

"It's really a death sentence — it may last 20 years, but it's really a death sentence," she said. Doctors often are hesitant to diagnose Alzheimer's because they can't be certain until the patient dies.

"It's a disease of losses," Pergrin said. "The individual definitely knows, they know, all of them know their memory isn't as good, but a lot of them are in denial."

While she knows the disease runs in families, she doesn't focus on that possibility. "My mother was a very wise woman; as I think back, and when I was still in high school she told me don't worry about something you can't do anything about — and if you can do something about it, then do something so you don't worry about it," Pergrin said. She stays mentally and physically active to remain as healthy as possible.

Pergrin is devoted to helping caregivers carry the special burden that comes with watching a loved one slip away. "Family members are going through an emotional divorce. Intimacy is gone, they can't carry on decent conversations, the loved one is becoming a child before your eyes."

Taking on the weight of Alzheimer's, even secondhand through the support groups, can be difficult. But she finds strength in knowing she's helping others, especially the caregivers.

"The need is so great," Pergrin said. "They go to the doctors', but the doctors don't give them the caregiving aspect. They may diagnose the disease and give medication, but they need the knowledge and understanding."