James Raymond Prechtl

James Raymond Prechtl, beloved husband of Carmela and father of Russ, Brian, Glenn and Eric, passed away on October 6, 2022 of natural causes. James was born in 1932 to Michael and Sadie Prechtl in Fullerton California.

Jim grew up in Burbank, CA., graduating from Cathedral High School in 1950. After high school Jim attended Loyola University of Los Angeles on music and baseball scholarships and as a member of the ROTC Program. While there, he lettered in football and baseball, graduating in 1955. He then entered the Air Force where he served as a navigator in transatlantic flights for four years.

He met Carmela at the New Yorker Hotel in 1957 while still in the service. They married in 1958 at St. Malachi’s in Brooklyn, New York. Jim doted on his children, attending all of their athletic events and performances. He had a profound effect on their lives and it is no accident that each of them excelled in areas that were important parts of his life – Russ became a test pilot, Brian a professional musician, Glenn a real estate developer, and Eric an MIT educated engineer. Professionally, James worked at IBM for 35 years in sales and as an instructor. Golf was Jim’s passion and he loved playing bridge. Family has always been the center of Jim’s life and this is his greatest legacy. In addition to Carmela, his four sons and their spouses, he leaves behind 10 grandchildren.

In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to:

Loyola University of Los Angeles https://giving.lmu.edu/

or Season Hospice https://seasonsfoundation.org/donate/

Brian writes:

I see my Dad’s presence in so many ways in my own life as well as in the lives of my brothers and my Mom. He taught me the value of love and laughter. He also imbued each of us with a competitive spirit that has been a blessing and a curse. It has been an indispensable skill in achieving success in the orchestral percussion audition circuit for me personally. I credit my Dad with the confidence to wade into a very competitive field and to shrug off the inevitable failures that littered the path to eventual success. The down side of that competitive spirit is that it has taken me some years to recognize that life itself is not a game to be won or lost in the end. It is in these moments that the sense of humor that I got from my father has come in very handy. I feel like he will live on when I answer each and every disappointment or failure in my life with a bit of dry or gallows humor in my own mind or out-loud. I also feel his presence at the poker table when I mimic his commentary as he dealt the cards, pair of ducks: all blue or my all-time favorite saying of my Dad’s pair of gork. Finally, I remember that whenever my Dad gave my Mom a card, he would draw a heart with an arrow through it and write “Millie” inside it. I still do that myself whenever I write a card to the loved-ones in my life.

In the end, I learned so much from you Dad. I learned how to laugh, how to succeed and the value of showing Love to the people in my life. It’s in all of these ways that you will always live on – in my life and in all of our lives. I love you, Dad. ❤️

-Brian Prechtl

Russ writes:

My Father

Jim Prechtl, my father, was a successful man. Growing up in Burbank California as the youngest of 11 children during the Great Depression, things were tough. Jim ended up dating movie star Angie Dickinson, learned how to play the trumpet, baseball, basketball, and entered the Air Force to become a navigator. Jim joined IBM when he was 30 years old. I remember his first day, he made me toast so we could have breakfast together before he left for his new job in New York City. Jim built an impressive career over 30 years at IBM, and while we were impressed with seeing his office, bringing home the first IBM PC made the biggest impression on us boys, because we immediately starting playing video games!
There are so many memories of Dad, like the time that I got out to the curb too late to catch the ice cream man with my shiny quarter, so Dad and I jumped in the car and we sped around the neighborhood so we could find that truck! That ice cream tasted so good! Or the times where I was being difficult as a teenager, and Dad defended me, reminding Mom how challenging it is to be a teenager, trying to grow up while your body is constantly changing on you, hormones, etc.
My favorite times with Dad were when we he would drive me to the airport to go back to college, we would have some really great talks. As I got older suddenly Dad seemed to get smarter!
It wasn’t all fun and games of course. When Dad realized he needed to stop drinking it was a big challenge to stop. But he stopped to keep his family together, and years later when I had to stop drinking for similar reasons I drew on his example to find the strength to stop drinking. Dad and Mom always pushed us to do our best, and never settle for being less than we could be. What an inspirational lesson to us!
Our parents’ marriage of 64 years was very special, with its highs and lows, successes and challenges. They showed us what real dedication looks like. While Mom has really been so busy taking care of Dad in his later years you could usually see his humorous, observational personality shine through, especially if he was beating us at pool or ping pong!

Jim Prechtl was a successful man, he loved and cared for his family. His family, his wife, children and grandchildren all loved him very much. Good bye Dad- hoping you’re shooting under par!

-Russ Prechtl

Eric writes:

Let me tell you about my Dad, James R. Prechtl. His was a life filled with respect, sacrifice, hard work, good humor, and love. Dad was the youngest child in a family of 11. He would tell me about the respect he had for his parents as they made their way out West in early 20th century America. And I’m sure it was that respect and the example left by his older brothers that motivated him to sacrifice for this country by serving in the Air Force.
He taught me about hard work. He pulled himself up through his own hard work, earning his college degree while paying for it himself through a baseball scholarship and simultaneously holding down a job. He would tell me about how he would have to finish his homework as he drove to school each morning because he was stretched so thin. He instilled in us all the importance of education and the hard work necessary to earn these degrees, an ethic that has silently pushed me every step of the way as I completed my own scholastic journey.
One of the happiest things that comes to mind about Dad is his humor. My first conscious experience with this was on Christmas Eve at age five or six. As with most children at that age, that was the most important night of the year. We were all heading to bed, but Dad was sitting out in the living room, with the fire, watching TV. I ran to him and said, “Dad, don’t you have to go to bed? Santa is coming!”. Without missing a beat, he turns to me and says, “No, someone has to stay up and pay Santa for the presents.” That is how to instill a good sense of humor in your son!
He was the “fun” parent as I grew up, but, when required, he helped instill the need for hard work. During grade school, every morning I would stop by the bathroom, as he was shaving, for him to give me a shaving-cream-filled kiss on the cheek before I headed out (wiping my cheek). One time in 5th grade, I was struggling in math. So, along with the kiss came the simple advice, “It’s time to bear down in math, Eric”. I’ve tried to ever since.
He loved sports. I still remember him teaching me and Glenn how to throw a football with a spiral as we tossed it in and out of the pool, during a visit from his brother, Don. I remember him teaching me how to improve on my baseball swing: “Keep your back elbow up. It will help level out your swing!” I remember him printing out a table so that I could track my at-bats and calculate my batting average, simultaneously igniting my love of spreadsheets and how math really could be used to compute something important!
He never missed a golf match and watched, seemingly, every football game. He taught me my first lessons in technology as I traced how he leveraged technology to interface the TV, multiple VCRs and the critical “A/B” switch to make it all work.
He was an honorable man. When I was relatively young, he took time to tell me about a situation at work where a colleague asked him to do something borderline unethical. Dad just looked at him straight and refused. I was too young to understand the nuances of that interaction, but I realize now that what Dad was trying to say was always try to do the right thing.
Now we will gather to say goodbye to you, Dad. Through your shared sacrifices with Mom, you leave behind a legacy of four proud sons, four grateful families, and 10 beautiful grandchildren. It’s a room filled with respect, sacrifice, hard work, good humor and love. We all love you and have so much to thank you for. Alzheimer’s slowly pulled you away from us for the past 20 years but it was only yesterday, when I got the news of your passing that I realized how much not having you in this world hurts. I will miss you, but I know you’re with me every step of the way! I truly hope you are happy in heaven, cracking jokes, throwing the football around and playing baseball. We will all be there soon.

-Eric Prechtl

Glenn writes:

Dad and I spent a lot of time together through sports. Dad was a talented athlete and I remember looking through old pictures of Dad playing baseball and football.
My very first memory of Dad’s athletic ability was when my friends were trying to convince me to play pee-wee football because of my speed. My Dad overheard this conversation and instead of providing commentary, he just took off and sprinted around the front yard. I was truly shocked at how fast he was and I started playing football right after that sprint.
As I played sports throughout the years, he never started a conversation about something that may have gone wrong in a game. He always waited for me to ask for his advice. I know how difficult that is when you have made mistakes and don’t want your children to make the same mistakes. I loved him for that careful guidance.
He also inspired me to be more confident in myself which I only realized as I grew older. After receiving my driver’s license at age 16, my family planned a trip from Connecticut to New York City to see my grandparents. As the entire family is walking out to the car for the trip, my Dad throws me the keys and says, “You’re driving – OK?”. I’m thinking to myself – has Dad lost it? We have the entire family in the car and with one wrong move, we will be in some serious trouble. That was what I was thinking, but what I said was, “Yaa, sure, no problem.” For Dad to have that much confidence in me was inspiring. My other brothers passed that same driving test with Dad.
During those driving trips, Dad was so sharp and on top of things that he would say, “Keep the speed at 62 MPH because that’s the limit we can push without getting a ticket.” Dad would doze off in the passenger seat and if I attempted to push a little faster than 62 MPH, Dad wouldn’t even open his eyes, he would just say, “How fast you going?”. He could just sense by the vibrations in the car that we were pushing the envelope. He was like a Jedi Master.
Some of my family and friends may also remember Dad’s intense line of questioning. At the time, I thought this was a complete waste of time, but I have now realized that Dad’s questioning made me a better businessman because I had to think ahead and plan. When I was a teenager, if you didn’t have your “story” straight about what you said you did the previous night, Dad could reveal the holes in the story. For that reason, you had to think ahead and plan for all types of follow up questions. Thanks to Dad, I still think through all possible scenarios in business and life.
I also loved Dad’s dry sense of humor. If we were eating hot dogs, I would always ask Dad what he wanted on his hot dog – ketchup, mustard, relish? And he would always come back with – I RELISH relish!
If I was trying to fix something and I asked my Dad for help, he would say that I needed to hold my mouth right. I was confused until he explained that when people try to fix something they tend to make a funny face especially with their mouth. 😜 This is more of a visual joke.
When we would drive down the road together and pass a cemetery, he would look over at me and say, “You know what…….They’re dying to get in there.”
So, every time that I pass a cemetery, I will think of my Dad and chuckle and that will be a good thing.
Dad – I love you and I will miss you!

-Glenn Prechtl