James Roy Pettyjohn

My father, Jim Pettyjohn, was born on September 20, 1946. He was a man known by many names. To friends and colleagues, he was known as "Jim"or "Mr. Pettyjohn.” His family and close friends knew him as "PJ". My mom, who he referred to as “his life partner” (Margaret Blue) would call him “Pettyjohn,” while my twin brother and I simply called him "P" However, the name that carried the most weight, warmth, and affection and most famous of them all was “Jimmy,” as spoken by his mother. I can hear her voice in my head now calling his name “Jimmy” followed by his response “Yes mom.” Most times his response was coupled with a pacing of the floor in excitement and anticipation of the coming conversation between the two, while other times, in agitation, he would respond with a subtle aggressive scratching of his head. This would all depend on the tone she used when she said his name. I remember being a little girl watching my dad revert back to his childhood at the very mention of his name. As I witnessed their interaction, I would giggle. She had the ability to bring the little boy out of him and just for a moment he was the same age as I was. It was evident in their exchange that they had such a deep love and connection with one another. Each time she left his presence she never failed to say “I love you” and his response was always “I love you, mom.” 

P grew up in The Dalles, and was deeply influenced by his parents, Roy and Betty Pettyjohn. He had a passion for animals that stemmed from his parents, but a cherished part of his childhood was his fond memories of his mother’s delectable pies. She baked apple, peach, apricot, strawberry, raspberry, and boysenberry pies all from freshly picked fruit off their land. As my father got older he would reminisce and tell us stories of how delicious his moms pies were—always recalling them with a smile.  P was named after his grandfather James Pettyjohn. As a youth he would spend his summers on his Grandparents wheat ranch. On their ranch is where he learned how to farm and care for animals. This was also where his love for horses was birthed. However, his maternal grandmother, Mary Lindsay, played a significant role in his upbringing. “What a fantastic grandma,” as he would refer to her when he told us stories. Well educated, she taught him so much and corrected him with humor. She also drove him 10 miles a day to the swimming pool in Ione, Oregon. She always gave him some silver coins to buy candy or maple bars at Bristow's Grocery Store. P enjoyed his sweets!

P found his life partner in Margaret Blue (Momma). Together, they built a large family, raising 12 children—Momma’s four biological children, five from her departed sister, and three they adopted. P’s heart was dedicated to his family, his work, and his values. He had the heart of a humanitarian and social reformer. Professionally, he worked in the service and government sectors where he retired. Notably, he played a vital role in the resolution of a lawsuit involving the Spanish-speaking population's lack of services provided within the Children’s Services Division. As a result, he received recognition from the governor for his contributions.  

P was dedicated to his mission. He would often drive 55 miles to the state capital in Salem Oregon. Some days he would take the three of us to spend the day at the capital with him. To us it was a field trip, but to him it was work! Before that, he worked for ODOT and was hired to help increase the representation of women in engineering and construction roles. Oh Mr. Pettyjohn—he understood his assignment on earth to serve the under-represented and did so with unwavering dedication and compassion.

James Roy Pettyjohn will be remembered for his generosity, his love for animals, his love for writing and his dedication to improving the lives of others. His legacy of service and kindness will continue to inspire those who knew him.

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