Will Barbeau has the giggle gene.

His daughter, Susannah Currie, offered the explanation. She said the Barbeaus have always been a bright and happy people known for their pleasant, giggly demeanor. Currie explained that her dad’s family came first to Quebec, Canada from Alsace, France as part of a program to build a nicer populace in a province otherwise known for its bristly inhabitants. The government was importing friendly people.

Will, 99 years old, stood on the far side of the common room at Atria Bay Spring Village as his daughter shared the hard-to-believe story. Almost on cue, his wrinkly smile turned into a laugh as the photographer began taking his picture. 

The first question of the interview — “What is the secret to long life?” — was another chance to giggle.

Barbeau, who is excited about his upcoming 100th birthday party planned for March, smiled and remained silent. Then, finally: “I haven’t found out yet.” 

His charming answer was followed with, no surprise, more giggles. 

When pressed on the secrets to longevity, Barbeau admitted he does not drink and he does not smoke. Well, there was that one time when he was much younger and his uncle — his father’s brother — rolled a cigarette for him. He handed it to young Will, who popped it in between his lips.

But smoking was to be a short-lived experience — his mother slapped him in the face, jarring loose the cigarette. 

“I have to compliment my mother,” Barbeau said. “My mother was one of nine children. And she was this way (he pounded his fist onto the table) about smoking and drinking.”

“She would not allow it,” he said. “I think she passed that onto me.”

Barbeau found other pursuits. He took to exercise. He still takes to it. 

“Oh my heavens, that’s what keeps me going. I go out and run after every meal. That’s the secret to life. I go jogging,” he said. 

Jogging? At 99? Barbeau refused to back down from his answer. Susannah said it was true — up until very recently, she said, her dad would “jog” around the halls of Atria. She described it as more of a shuffle. Now he uses a walker during his trips around the halls. 

She turned to her dad. “Are you going to tell him about how you would jog around the airfield while all the other men were drinking?” 

Barbeau giggled, again, and nodded his head. That story stretched back to Barbeau’s years in the Navy. He joined up during World War II and was sent to Hilo, Hawaii. He was there when the Japanese bombed the Pearl Harbor. Barbeau served as an aircraft instruments mechanic and trained other soldiers how to operate TBF Bombers.

He also received a special recognition for his contributions following the bombing. Barbeau said he was one of the sailors tasked with finding men, welders and other tradesmen, who could cut holes into the overturned ship hulls to free trapped soldiers. 

He said the Navy also trained him to become left-handed: “Now I’m ambidextrous,” he said. 

After his time in the military, Barbeau decided to go to college. That was a big step for someone who almost did not graduate high school — Susannah said her dad was about a half-credit shy of graduating and was planning to run off with a traveling circus when the high school decided to award Barbeau the half-credit he needed if he agreed to play the oboe for a school concert. 

Will met his future wife, Melissa, in college, and the two, years later, formed their own public relations firm. It operated out of the basement of their home on Grove Street in town. The Barbeaus raised their family in that Grove Street home and spent more than a few days enjoying the beach nearby, Mussachuck. 

The residents of Barrington came to know Barbeau a lot better in the 1990s when he started writing a regular column for the Barrington Times. It was called “Eco-Watch” and it focused on environmental issues facing the local community. 

In a column titled “Should children play at Prince’s Pond?” Barbeau challenged whether Barrington should follow through on plans to turn the Prince’s Pond area (located behind the DPW headquarters) into a preserve. Barbeau had checked the area himself and questioned why the soil near the mouth of the creek leading to the pond smelled (and tasted!) so bad. 

“I have concerns there might be substance leaching from the old landfill,” he wrote. 

In his memoir written more recently, Barbeau expanded on the issue of Prince’s Pond, a once beautiful oasis in the town.

“Nature gave Barrington a lovely pond near the center of town. In the early years it was stocked with trout, and vented to the bay with a tidal creek; it saw annual herring migrations. Today, no one talks about Prince’s Pond — it’s too painful a subject. This lovely asset, so well suited to swimming, boating, fishing and other enjoyments is now ‘dead.’ It was killed by the landfill next door which remains ‘uncapped.’ 

“There was no doubt this would happen; the state, and the neighbors predicted it. To escape responsibility, town officials hired an engineer to render an opinion. Hiring a consultant is a time-worn act of political cowardice. Landfill No. 4 now sits just a few yards from the pond.”

Back in Atria, Barbeau smiled when asked about his columns. 

“I liked to write. I like to write and it’s a means of self-expression. It’s fun,” he said.

He liked photography. He loved to fish. He threw a line in the water off Latham Park last year. Nothing was biting. Barbeau’s focus on the environment partnered well with fishing — he worked closely with researchers who were studying the striped bass population. 

“I was one of about 20 guys who liked to fish for striped bass, but we always threw them back,” he said. “Fishing for them gave the people that tried to take care of them access to information.”

Susannah said Will earned the nickname “the instigating reporter” because “he instigates trouble, and then he writes about it.” Barbeau giggled a bit as she recalled his nickname. He thanked her for recalling some of the stories from his past. Barbeau said his memory is fading a bit these days. 

Susannah said she did not mind helping with some of the history. She called herself his “external hard drive.”

The stories could go on for days. Barbeau could thumb through the printed pages of columns he had published in the Barrington Times and op-eds that ran in the Providence Journal. 

Instead, he focused on his upcoming birthday party. He has invited his family and friends, all the folks on his email list, his fishing buddies, his doctor, and his hairdresser. 

It is not clear whether Barbeau will grace the crowd with some tunes on his clarinet. He still plays. He broke it out when Atria residents decorated the Christmas tree. 

Barbeau began humming the tune to “Silent Night,” and then, when he finished, he giggled again.