"I just kind of always knew that I would work with seniors," she says.

The seniors to whom she refers are not high school seniors, but senior citizens. Knowing early on that she would work with senior citizens was probably a direct result of her upbringing.

Unbeknownst to O'Reilly's parents, they created a gerontology-specialist-in-training when they were taking their young daughter with them to do volunteer work at nursing homes.

"My parents thought it was important to be around seniors since I didn't have any grandparents," O'Reilly says.

Growing up in Livermore, those trips to the nursing homes instilled in her a familiarity with seniors that serves her well in her role as gerontology specialist for the Almaden Senior Program.

O'Reilly is comfortable being surrounded by the hundreds of senior citizens—many of whom are more than twice her 35 years—who joined the program for the discount lunch program, fitness classes, clubs and the variety of other activities offered at the center.

They are comfortable with her, too.

Hugs and pats on the back are a common sight between O'Reilly and the members. They say she's the greatest thing since sliced bread—or, according to member Diane Perovich, something a tad sweeter.

"She's the greatest thing since chocolate," Perovich says.

But O'Reilly demurs, insisting: "I'm just doing my job."

To which member Gerry Gama rebuts: "Modesty is part of her charm."

It is the job O'Reilly is doing with the program and her interaction with people such as Perovich, Gama and others in the program that has members singing her praises.

"Nothing happened right before Torie came. We felt like we were getting no respect. It seemed like nobody cared about us," Gama says.

Getting the senior program to Almaden Valley was a struggle in the first place, but former District 10 Councilwoman Pat Dando fought to get one. Back then dubious naysayers didn't think a program in Almaden Valley would draw enough participation to warrant funding for a full-time gerontologist, but after just one year of having a full-time program manager, attendance grew to about 400. Last year the membership reached about 900.

When the senior center was shut down and demolished last spring to make way for a larger community center, the senior program's numbers dwindled amid the uncertainty of where classes would be held. It took a few months to find temporary facilities and get settled, but now that they have found a temporary home at the Almaden Winery Community Center, membership is again growing.

Some members credit O'Reilly with the program's growth and success. But O'Reilly argues that she has had a lot of help from the seniors themselves.

"I've been very gifted with a lot of volunteers," O'Reilly says.

The volunteers run the activities that are offered through the program, such as a weekly current events meeting, a crocheting and knitting class, arts and crafts, and tap dancing. But O'Reilly oversees it all and is always there when a new class or activity is in its infancy; and she's always ready to pitch in to get things going.

"Anything that needs to be done, she does," Judith Brynda says.

When Mark Atlas wanted to get a senior softball team going, O'Reilly donned a cap and glove and headed out to the diamond with the group, though she readily admits her talents are not in athletics.

"There's nothing that's not my job," O'Reilly says.

Members of the then-fledgling bowling group have fond memories of O'Reilly joining them on the lanes when they first got started. They say O'Reilly came to bowl with them "on a lot of Sundays" with her husband. (O'Reilly says accompanying her to the seniors' events is part of her husband's "job description.")

"We weren't really sure which direction her ball would go," Gama says with a chuckle.

There are now 28 bowlers, and O'Reilly marks the steadiness of that group as one of the success stories of the many activities attempted. She says there have been as many clinkers as there have been hits, but she's always willing to try any of the suggestions members give her.

A morning stretch class is one of the most popular activities of the program, boasting 138 registrants. Part of the appeal of the class is O'Reilly herself, seniors say.

They also like the selection of music she plays while they tap their toes, lift their weights and stretch their eyes, mouths and other body parts.

A medley of big band swing tunes, such as Glenn Miller's "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree" lasts about seven minutes, keeping the workout lively as voices sing along with the music.

As a few jovial groans rumble around the room complaining about the seven-minute length, the feisty O'Reilly bites back: "I found a 14-minute version of that song. Maybe we'll try it next week."

Before she starts exercising she opens the class with reminders of upcoming activities, members' birthday announcements and a bit of casual chatter.

Gentle teasing is bantered about between O'Reilly and the members, and then June Clodius sparks a conversation about O'Reilly having a "date" with Pat Johnson, O'Reilly's husband of almost 12 years, to which many twitters and "woos" are sounded.

The couple, who became parents last July to Joseph Patrick Johnson—a little boy who captured the heart of O'Reilly in spite of her trepidations of parenthood—got a "time out" of their own.

"She fell madly in love with her baby," Brynda says.

Occasionally, Joey visits the center with his mom, creating quite a ruckus over who gets to hold him next.

"When he was born he got 700 grandparents," says Jerry Clodius, June's husband and president of the Almaden Senior Association.

Gestational diabetes kept O'Reilly looking petite during her pregnancy, and just two weeks before her due date one of Joey's "adoptive grandparents," Bob Grover, challenged O'Reilly to a belly battle. Grover won but has since lost some of what helped him win.

O'Reilly routinely wins over the members with her sense of humor, personal involvement and professionalism.

"Torie [knows] no strangers," Jerry Clodius says.

"She's great at smoothing over rough patches with employees and the members," Brynda says. "She's diplomatic and tactful. She creates a level of trust."

Traci Tokunaga, recreation supervisor and O'Reilly's boss, says that in the time she has worked with O'Reilly she has learned that the members love working with her.

"She has a great rapport with the seniors," Tokunaga says.

O'Reilly's demeanor with the seniors is backed up by educated know-how. She holds bachelor's degrees in gerontology and recreational therapy and a master's degree in public administration. Her work with the 50-and-older crowd prevents her from being afraid to grow old herself, and she says she sees the people she works with as "the good side of aging."

The young-at-heart attitude is one she is familiar with in her own family. Her parents are in their 70s but O'Reilly says they don't see themselves as senior citizens.

Last month her parents attended the program's murder mystery dinner—one of the many special events O'Reilly has planned—and as they were saying goodbye to their daughter, they remarked at how much they had enjoyed the dinner and game. Then her mother added: "It's so nice what you do for all these old people."

When the new 38,000-square-foot community center opens in early 2006, O'Reilly is planning to do a lot more nice things. She looks at the facility as "a programmer's dream."

O'Reilly, who SCUBA dives and kick-boxes, also "likes the corny stuff like singing around a campfire," and she is welcoming the challenge of filling the new space. She plans to increase attendance to the senior nutrition program—a two-dollar suggested donation for members 60 and older buys lunch on weekdays—create more classes and activities, and increase the overall membership.

As budget cuts and a huge municipal budget deficit threaten all city-funded programs, including the Almaden Senior Program, members such as Gerry Gama are afraid of losing the person they credit as giving them a voice.

"We hope we don't ever lose her. She is such a wonderful person," Gama says. "She made us all want to live longer."