‘My nickname as a local police officer was Plumpie the ball-snatcher. I miss the talks I made’

For 73 years, Jan Pruim has lived in an emergency house, built in the post-war South Rotterdam. Half of his De Wielewaal district has been demolished in recent years, a large part of the remaining houses have been boarded up. The 100-year-old is one of the last inhabitants of the garden village. During his working life he was a local police officer, at a time when everyone was still trembling at the police.

What is it like to live in a partly demolished and abandoned residential area?

‘I am very satisfied with my home, where I have lived a happy life with my wife and two daughters. The youngest was born here. I enjoy my garden, when I look outside from my chair, all I see is green. Of course I would rather see the neighborhood inhabited, that is much nicer, but I have never interfered so much with the people here, I do not interfere with anything, then you will not get into a fight. That attitude dates back to my time as a local police officer.

‘Almost half of the De Wielewaal garden village has now been demolished, and one third of the houses that are still standing are occupied. They have removed the floors from the empty houses to prevent squatting. The one house next to me has been empty for a few years and on the other side a man now temporarily lives alone. I understand that demolition is necessary. The houses are worn out. They were built in 1949 for 25 years as semi-permanent emergency housing. Mostly workers live there, they are all getting new accommodation, the only question is whether the rent is affordable.’

And you, do you have to move out of your house soon?

‘I’m 100 years old, I’m not moving anymore. I only allow myself to be moved lying down. I hope I can live here for another 2 or 3 years. I’ll be better off if I still make it to 103.’

What was it like to be a police officer, ie the bogeyman, in your own neighborhood?

‘There were bastards for whom I was the enemy, except for the few it was a good crowd here. In my time it was obligatory to live in the district that you had under your care as a police officer, but luckily people came back to that later. If I saw my neighbor across the street commit a violation, I could not fine him with good decency. Then I shouted: ‘Hey Henk, move.’ Sometimes I did bike light check. It was strictly enforced. I remember a man I stopped on Sunday night. ‘Your taillight doesn’t work’, I said, ‘the wire is loose. If you fix it right now, I’ll let you go.” He refused, because he was not allowed to work on Sundays. So he got a ticket. He turned out to be a pastor, but I made no distinction between anyone.

‘As a family we were loners in the neighbourhood. We had sent our children to a school outside De Wielewaal on purpose, because otherwise they might be teased about having a father as a local police officer. I kept my distance from my neighbors, because I had to be neutral, so my wife did that too. We did have a lot of run-up, because we were the only ones with a telephone. I have always enjoyed my work, the best thing was chatting with people. I had to be well informed, because a cop is a social worker. I miss that talk, there are days when I don’t speak to anyone.’

What were the offenses and crimes you had to deal with?

“Oh, very different from now. There were, of course, also neighbors quarrels and complaints about noise pollution, but drug crime was barely there. My nickname was ‘Pruimpie debollenjatter’. Boys often played football in the gardens and on the grass between the houses, sometimes the fathers joined in after work in the evenings. That was not allowed, it was in the local ordinance. Sometimes a window broke. If I caught them, I would intervene and confiscate the ball. It went to headquarters and they never got it back. I was also deployed during strikes in the port, we had to prevent riots from breaking out. The polder adjacent to this district, up to Rhoon, also belonged to my area. With my police dog, a Dutch Shepherd, I had to look out for poachers. They hunted everything that lived, they caught moles for their skins. If I caught a poacher in the act, it was called a ‘nice note’, because then you got a good assessment from the boss. I started every official report with: ‘I, Jan Hendrik Pruim, chief police officer of the municipal police, also unpaid state constable…’

Have you ever found yourself in a precarious situation?

‘I was still a little boy, when during a foot surveillance – we didn’t have a bicycle yet – I heard a woman screaming like a skinny pig late at night: ‘Help, help.’ I go for it. She was on the street. “My husband beats me,” she cried. Her front door was open, so I went in. I spoke to the man about his behavior and in no time we were fighting, we were rolling on the couch. His wife came in, saw that I hit him and jumped on my back: I was not allowed to hit her husband, she said. Fortunately, the neighbors sounded the alarm and two colleagues came to assist me. The man ended up in a cell, where he had to stay for 24 hours. I searched him and what do you think he was carrying? An entrance ticket to a very important Feyenoord match. So he missed it, he thought that was terrible.’

Who was your great love?

‘My girl Jet. We got to know each other in the public house when we were 14 years old and started dating. In the public house you could follow courses and in the summer you went to camp. We did not see each other for a long time during the war, because I was in hiding on a farm in Brabant, where I worked on the company. Later I hid with my parents. When there were raids, I could hide in a large coal box, in which I had made a double bottom. I survived the war unscathed. Immediately after the liberation, Jetske and I got married, with fifty couples at the same time at the city hall of Rotterdam. It was assembly line work, all marriages postponed. Due to the housing shortage, we first lived with my parents for a few years, where my oldest daughter was born. In 1949 we could go to De Wielewaal. It was a good marriage, we didn’t fight once. Of our two daughters, the eldest – who lived in France – has passed away and the youngest lives in South Africa. We call regularly.’

What kind of family did you grow up in?

‘I was born in South Rotterdam and will always live here. My parents worked hard, the atmosphere at home was good. My father worked in the police force and later started a shop selling electrical appliances. My mother was very handy, she made all our clothes and very nice ladies’ hats to earn extra money. I was the youngest of three. There was no poverty, we had shoes and decent clothes. After primary school I became a house painter. I have always wanted to work with my hands, I was not interested in studying. When after the war the job as a painter was not up for grabs, I decided to become a policeman, because that profession offered job opportunities and there was a shortened training due to staff shortages. I had to memorize the Criminal Code and laws, such as the Hunting Act and the Mole, Hedgehog and Frog Act, they still exist.’

What is it like for you to be 100 years old?

‘That some people live to be 100, that doesn’t exist, does it? I’ve been lucky, I’ve always lived a healthy life.’ (He slaps his flat stomach) ‘I can’t go over 70 kilos, so I watch what I eat; I find a man with a beer belly such an ugly face. As a cop I walked many miles every day. After my retirement I bought a racing bike, which I used on long trips until my 90th birthday. I still squat daily, holding on to the counter. And I never smoked, I thought that was disgusting. My father smoked like a heretic, every year the walls and ceiling had to be whitewashed because they had turned yellow. In Rotterdam-Charlois I was the only cop who didn’t smoke.

‘I am perfectly healthy, but experience this age as a major handicap. My only physical problem is that I don’t walk well, I need a stick to keep my balance. That’s why I decided last month that I took the last ride in my car. I’m afraid of falling when getting out. I find it more difficult that I can no longer do odd jobs and maintain my garden, which is a great loss. Last year I fell twice while gardening, the first time I lay on the ground for a few hours. I just hoped it wouldn’t rain. Finally I managed to get up. Fortunately, the second time I had an alarm button on, and my neighbor across the street came to help me. Look at that hedge, it needs pruning. This week I did a little bit, but I didn’t dare go any further, afraid of falling again. I don’t think I can resist the temptation and will soon be cutting the hedge in the front yard. No, I’ve never been lazy.’