One of my neighbors was Max Leiter, a descendant of the indian origin of that little town. Now HE was older than Methuselah.
His daughter would bring him 7 cases of PBR and 4 cartons of cigs every 2 weeks. Never saw him wear more than a crusty T-shirt and racing stripe equipped boxers.
There used to be a general store on the south side of the Erie Railroad tracks where I would wait to catch the train to Jamestown, New York. The train wasn't scheduled to stop in Leiter's Ford, but the railroad made an exception for holiday travel if enough tickets would be purchased. The Erie Railroad is long gone and I'm sure the little store is too. I haven't been back there in 50 years or so.