Ant & Dec surprised their oldest fan at her 100th birthday party — but it was the video on the projector that had the whole care home in tears…
Everyone hoped she’d smile. No one expected the tribute video would get even the care staff on their feet clapping…
A Century of Smiles
In the cozy dining hall of Willow Grange Care Home in Newcastle, the air was thick with anticipation and the sweet scent of victoria sponge cake. It was June 22, 2025, and the residents, staff, and a gaggle of family members had gathered to celebrate the 100th birthday of Elsie Mayhew, the care home’s most spirited resident and self-proclaimed “biggest Ant and Dec fan in all of Britain.” The room sparkled with decorations—gold balloons, a banner proclaiming Happy 100th, Elsie!, and a table piled high with gifts and cards. But the real surprise was yet to come.
Elsie, dressed in a lavender cardigan adorned with a glittering birthday badge, sat at the head of the room, her eyes twinkling behind her glasses. She’d been regaling everyone with stories of her life: dancing through the Blitz, raising three children, and watching every Ant and Dec show since their Byker Grove days. “Those lads,” she’d say, wagging a finger, “they’ve kept me young at heart.” Little did she know that Anthony McPartlin and Declan Donnelly were about to make her centennial birthday unforgettable.
As the party kicked off with a singalong to “Sweet Caroline,” the care home manager dimmed the lights and directed everyone’s attention to a projector screen. “We’ve got a special message for Elsie,” she announced, her voice barely concealing her excitement. The crowd hushed, and Elsie leaned forward, curious. Then, the screen flickered to life, and there they were—Ant and Dec, grinning as if they were in the room themselves.
“Hiya, Elsie!” Dec began, his Geordie accent warm and familiar. “We heard you’re hitting the big 100 today, and we couldn’t let it pass without a proper celebration!” Ant chimed in, “You’re our oldest fan, and we’re told you’ve been cheering us on since we were just lads messing about on telly. So, we’ve put together something special for you.”
What followed was a tribute video that left the entire room speechless. It opened with clips of Elsie’s life, painstakingly gathered by Ant and Dec’s team with help from her family. Grainy black-and-white photos showed a young Elsie dancing at a 1940s social, laughing with friends, and cradling her newborns. Home videos captured her blowing out candles at her 80th birthday, cheering at a Newcastle United match, and, most touchingly, watching Ant & Dec’s Saturday Night Takeaway with her great-grandchildren, clapping along to the theme tune.
Interwoven were messages from people whose lives Elsie had touched. Her grandson, now a teacher, spoke of her encouraging him to read as a boy. A neighbor recalled her delivering homemade scones during tough times. Even a nurse from Willow Grange shared how Elsie’s daily jokes kept the staff smiling through long shifts. Then came Ant and Dec’s own words: “Elsie, you’ve spent a century spreading joy,” Ant said, his voice softening. “You’re not just our fan—you’re a proper legend, and we’re yours.”
But the video’s final segment was what brought the room to its feet. Ant and Dec revealed they’d created the Elsie Mayhew Kindness Fund, a charity initiative in her name to support elderly residents in Newcastle care homes. “You’ve shown us what kindness looks like,” Dec said on-screen. “So we’re starting with £100,000 to fund activities, outings, and little comforts for people like you, Elsie, who make every community brighter.” The video closed with a montage of Elsie’s smiles set to her favorite song, Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again,” and a final message: To Elsie, our hero. Here’s to 100 years of love and laughter. – Ant & Dec.
As the screen faded, silence hung for a moment, broken only by Elsie’s soft gasp. Then, the room exploded into applause. Care staff, some wiping tears, stood first, clapping with fervor. Residents, many in their 80s and 90s, joined in, some tapping their canes in rhythm. Elsie’s family rushed to her side, her great-granddaughter hugging her tightly. Elsie, tears streaming down her weathered cheeks, clutched a tissue, her voice trembling as she whispered, “Those cheeky lads… they’ve done me proud.”
The care home manager handed Elsie a framed letter from Ant and Dec, repeating the video’s message, along with a photo of the duo holding a giant card signed by the Saturday Night Takeaway crew. “They wanted to be here,” she said, “but they’re filming. But they sent this with all their love.” Elsie traced the signatures, her fingers shaking. “I knew they were special,” she said, her voice cracking. “But this… it’s for everyone.”
The party roared back to life, with residents swapping stories of Elsie’s antics and marveling at the kindness fund. One carer, wiping her eyes, said, “She’s always been our star, but to see Ant and Dec honor her like that? It’s magic.” Another resident, a boy, chimed, “I hope they fund a bus trip to the coast—I’ll save Elsie a seat!”
As the afternoon waned, Elsie cut her cake—a towering creation topped with edible figures of her and a her and and a her—Ant and Dec—while the projector replayed the video by popular demand. Laughter and singing filled the hall, but the true magic was in Elsie’s quiet joy. The tribute hadn’t just made her smile—it had reminded everyone that a century of small kindnesses could ripple far beyond one life.
Later, as her family helped clear up, Elsie sat quietly, her eyes on the framed letter. “I thought I’d just get a laugh today,” she said softly. “But those lads… they’ve given me a legacy.” And in that moment, Willow Grange felt like the warmest place on Earth, alive with the power of love, laughter, and a century of Elsie’s unbreakable spirit.