Dad was born on Teusday, January 7, 1913 on the kitchen table at the family home at 311 Mulberry St. in Lewes, Delaware. He died, tragically, sixty-five years later on March 18th, 1978 in Wilmington, Delaware, following a long, complex illness.
In that lifetime he experienced the Great Depression, went to college, beacme a star athlete, successfully operated his own business, married, went to war and survived it, changed careers to provide stability for his family, helped raise two children, paid the mortgage off on his home, saved carefully, and, at his death, left Mom in reasonable shape financially.
The large Episcopal church from which he was buried was packed with people to honor a man who consistently demonstrated a quiet "grace" in the finest sense of the word.
You would think that a life that full of experiences would be rich with stories, and I'm sure it is, but most of those stories were never told by Dad. You had to listen very carefully to relatives and friends to understand his accomplishments.
Dad was extremely modest and never brought attention to himself. He was a kind person, thoughtful to others, and gentle and caring with his family. Yet, you had to work hard to understand the underlying foundation for his beliefs, principles, and the manner in which he lived his life.
Telling Dad's story is not easy, and I suspect that's the way he would have liked it.
Immediately after birth, Dad was named James Pride Prettyman, Jr. His parents were James Pride Prettyman and Ida Milman Prettyman. Although Grandmother Prettyman was from Georgetown, Delaware, there was a very large extended family in the Lewes area.
Dad grew up on Mulberry Street in a quiet, tree-lined neighborhood just a few blocks walk from "downtown," another block to the Lewes-Rehoboth canal, and another mile to the beach nestled against the Delaware Bay.
Dad had two siblings: Aunt Mildred, who like Dad, was quiet, steady and consistent, and Uncle Milman, who was more gregarious both in his studies and personality.
The Prettyman house on Mulberry St. is typical of the area; two story, frame construction, always painted white, a screened-in porch on the front with rocking chairs on it making available quiet talks with neighbors as they walked by. Aunts and Uncles all lived in the neighborhood or within easy walking distance.
Lewes was a small town with a population of around 500. Dad used to tell us that Lewes was so small they rolled up the sidewalks after 8 o'clock each night.
There was very little industry except, eventually, a fish processing factory on the Delaware Bay which employed a good number of the men in the area. There were also a number of chicken farms and canneries, one of which Dad worked in during the long, hot summers of his high school years.
The town had the standard kinds of stores including a drug store, a small American store, a modest hotel, two churches (Methodist and Episcopal), a newspaper and magazine store, and a barber shop. In those days the men would get their daily or weekly shaves in the barber shop and each would have his personal mug and shaving brush placed on a small shelf above the barber's chair. Grandfather Prettyman's mug remains in my possession.
Grandfather Prettyman (James I) like his father Samuel Prettyman, initially eeked out a living as a fisherman. He and his brothers and other family members would fish daily with surf nets just off the beach at Lewes, or further out along the shore leading to the Point of Capes.
When Grandfather was fishing, a natural channel existed on the main Lewes Beach in front of Mr. Marshall's house. That was the family's primary point of operation and it was known as Prettyman's Landing.
The fish caught would have been flounder and trout with a flurry of blues caught off the Cape in late September. While most of the fish were of the ordinary variety, a picture exists (click here to see that photo) of Grandfather and his brothers proudly displaying a 10-foot long sturgeon that must have wreaked havoc with their nets.
Time goes by and beaches change, and Prettyman's Landing no longer exists.
Dad was required to help with the fishing but he did not enjoy it. He would work as hard as the adults and sometimes the work could be hazardous. Although he grew up within a mile of the Bay, Dad was a mediocre swimmer.
I remember him telling me about a terrifying fishing trip during which he was lowered by a rope by Grandfather into a deep, tidal slough near the Point at low tide. His job was to collect fish left stranded in the pool when the tide receded. The adults left him to his work and drifted on to other spots.
As Dad worked, the tide gradually began to flow and rapidly filled the pool. Forgotten by the adults, he frantically tried to escape. But, unable to swim and encumbered with heavy work clothing, he almost drowned. Only his loud cries saved him as the absent-minded rescuers pulled him to safety just in time.
Dad never like the beach and I often wonder if that particular experience caused his reticence.
The Prettyman family maintained a large vegetable garden behind the house. It filled
nearly a half acre and contained all the basic vegetables used in the household. Dad
learned how to plant, till, and harvest in that garden.
His mother and father would work with him for hours and Dad became quite accomplished with a hoe.
One time he showed me how to cultivate a row of vegetables and I was amazed at how many different tasks such a simple tool could perform, especially if used by the right person.
When we travelled back and forth to Lewes from Wilmington for summer vacations, Dad would help us identify the crops that stretched for miles in Sussex County. Dick and I never quite learned all of them but I do remember Dad evaluating the health of the Delaware corn crop by telling us that it should be "knee high by the 4th of July."
Also in the backyard was Grandfather's tool shed, which wasn't much to speak of, but next to it was Dad's pigeoncoop. Dad took quite an interest in keeping the pigeons fed and if he happened to wake up late in the morning, one particular pigeon (who Dad named "Pidge" who had discovered where Dad slept) would fly by his bedroom window and slightly grace the window as if to say, "Where are you? It's time to be fed, and time for you to go to school."
"Pidge" would also find Dad in the garden and would fly to him and perch on his head. Dad tried his hand at raising pigeons when Dick and I were growing up in downtown Wilmington but it was, of course, against the city ordinances and we gave up the attempts before it became a problem to the neighborhood.
The Great Depression hit Sussex County hard, but under Franklin Delano Roosevelt's leadership, the country gradually moved out of it's long economic misery and the Prettyman family benefited.
Grandfather abandoned fishing and was able to gain employment in the Lewes Post Office until he suffered a debilitating stroke at the age of 48. Dad and hundreds of thousands of other young men obtained summer work with the Civilian Conservation Corps.
And with jobs being provided to the family by Roosevelt, the Prettymans became even more committed to the Democratic Party. A few relatives held important state political positions and politics were a daily topic of discussion in the household. I remember each election day evening Dad would listen carefully to the radio broadcast results as he sat in the chair in the living room nearest the bottom of the stair steps.
Election results were discussed among Dad, Uncle Milman, and Aunt Mildred with Aunt Mildred probably being the most knowledgeable of the three.
As biased as the Prettymans were towards the Democratic party, so also were the Grahams (my Mother's family) to the Republican party. It was interesting to listen to the carefully (and often, not so carefully) chosen words when the families were gathered together and politics were discussed.
If you came from the Lewes area you would know the history of Cape Henlopen Light House. The history is written in just about every book you find on lower Delaware.
The light house, located at Cape Henlopen, also known as the Point of Capes, fell into the
sea in 1916 and Dad had the honor of being one of the last to see it still standing.
Apparently he and some friends walked the railroad tracks out to the Cape and played under
the light house the day before it fell. Many of the houses on Lewes Beach have fire
places made from the brick salvaged from the fallen structure.
Dad spent all 13 of his school years at the Lewes School on Savannah Road. It was an easy walk or bike ride to the school and took him past the Methodist Church, the tiny Beebe Hospital, and the Bethel Cemetery where his grandparents were buried. His class size in school was never more than 20 and he would have known everyone in the school each and every year he attended.
Dad was an average student who leaned more toward repetitive tasks than creative concepts. His real love was athletics and he participated in every sport the school offered and always wound up at the top in each sport.
His friendshps, developed in those years and subsequently at the University of Delaware, lasted the rest of his life.
Although Dad did not actively continue to seek out old friends, they all seemed to have a way of keeping up with each other. Often Dad would bump into school friends while shopping with us and would stand and talk for as long as Mom, Dick and I would let him.
Dad's high school history teacher and basketball coach, Gilbert Byron, wrote a book entitled "Chesapeake Season: A Cove Journal," which depicted life in Lewes and around the Chesapeake Bay when Dad was growing up. Dad is mentioned prominently on pages 138-140 in a story titled "A Visit to Lewes." Mr. Byron attributed Dad as having been the first person in his recollection to perform a behind-the-back dribble in a basketball game. This would have been about 30 years before Bob Cousy of the Boston Celtics became famous for the very same skill.
The Prettyman family pretty much followed a straight line in everything they did, so I was very surprised to learn from both Dad and Grandmother Prettyman that Dad was given the option when he was a junior in high school to take a year and either concentrate on studying or on sports.
The idea was that you only go through life once and if Dad wanted to take a year and become really good at sports, his parents would support him. This idea absolutely amazed me. Grandfather must have really been influential on Grandmother because I'm sure she would have never offered that option on her own.
Dad, of course, chose sports, flunked many of his courses and lost a year academically to his peers. In the end, it made no difference. He got through college just fine and it certainly laid a wonderful foundation for his career in athletics.
In that same year, Dad bought a tenor banjo with savings from his job at the tomato cannery. With Aunt Mildred's coaching on reading music, he quickly became very proficient.
He played in a number of school plays and minstrels. He would listen almost every evening to the dance band music on the radio in the kitchen and would share sheet music with Aunt Mildred.
Dad kept up his banjo playing through college, then abandoned it forever. His banjo, in fairly good condition, has been passed on to me and it is a remarkably beautiful instrument.