Sounds like an episode of "Dallas."
My grandmother and her side of the family were unique. She stayed alive long enough to see me come home from Viet Nam in 1968, but died a week later.
We were never sure how old she really was, but came west to the New Mexico Territory in a covered wagon. One of her brothers died in Roosevelt's "rough rideres" before they sailed for Cuba, and Teddy sent her father a personal letter regarding him.