I was not expecting to be greeted with a familiar face when I clicked on the link that read, “Is Musk a threat to Delaware and its $2 billion legal economy?” The first picture you see is of Leonard Simon, owner of a men’s wear shop named Wright & Simon on Market Street.
In my exploration of Wilmington’s past, present and future, I am fascinated by the stories of people who have worked and lived in the city for decades – or who had left the city to venture out to the suburbs. I have, however, avoided talking to one particular person in the last year. But since Fortune Magazine talked to Leonard, I figured it was time to push past my own uncertainty and ask an old family friend if he wanted to talk to me.
Wright & Simon has been around for 90 years; Leonard joined the family business 60 years ago as a part-time employee. To say that the business is a Wilmington institution is putting it lightly. It stood when the bankers flocked to the city and when MBNA arrived, and it continued to stand after DuPont moved out and Bank of America acquired MBNA. It withstood the COVID-19 pandemic business shutdowns as well as some property damage from the Black Lives Matter protests in summer 2020.
But until recently, for me, Wright & Simon was just the place where Mickey worked. Mickey— a nickname for Dominick Pullella— was my great uncle. He was a tailor at Wright & Simon for more than 50 years.
As a reporter, I am comfortable asking questions. It gets decidedly more uncomfortable when you’re asking a family connection for an interview. But I’m grateful that when I went to the door after a day of walking up and down Market Street, Leonard let me sit with him as we talked about the city, the corporate franchise and Mickey.
While I waited as Leonard was helping customers, some asked me why I was there. I told them who I was but also mentioned my great uncle Dominick who worked there.
From Wright & Simon’s more loyal customers, the response was: “Dominick? He was such a great man. A true gentleman.”
Now, I love Mickey, but this truly surprised me. He was a man you don’t forget for his jokes, impish grin and chuckle.
I remember sun-soaked days when my cousins and I played in his yard while the adults drank red wine around a crowded kitchen table. I remember so many gatherings on Easter Sunday and Christmas, after mass of course, and he always had handmade pasta drying on his dining room table. There’s pictures of him wearing a silly Genie mask from “Aladdin” while playing with my sister and I in our tent in the living room.
A gentleman was not something that immediately came to mind when I thought about Mickey. He was always fun. But as an adult, you see the world beyond your immediate circle – and I wanted to widen that circle to learn more about the man that was my uncle.
Dominick Pullella was born and raised in a small Italian village in Calabria. He was a tailor because he needed a trade. He came to Delaware in the mid-1950s, knowing little English, after my grandmother came to marry my grandfather. Mickey picked up English over the years, but did not take formal classes. He was too busy earning a living to do so.
According to my mother, Mickey first started working as a tailor at the Dover Air Force Base to repair and fit uniforms. He still lived with my grandparents in an apartment on Rodney Street. Probably looking for a better commute and more opportunities, he started work at Wright & Simon in the 1960s.
Mickey worked there until his health deteriorated right before the pandemic. Over the decades, he built up a loyal customer base. He earned enough to move near Brookmeade where many of the DuPont employees had lived. He was also “the fun uncle,” using tickets he was given by clients to bring his grand nephews and nieces to Phillies games. His garden of roses was his pride and joy.
Family lore has it that Mickey tailored many bankers and lawyers in Wilmington, but none as prominent as MBNA founder Charlie Cawley himself. He knew how to talk to people as easily as he talked to another merchant on Market Street. That to me is the symbol of who Mickey was. Through his own will, he picked up enough English to talk to anyone.
Many clients described my great uncle as an institution to Wilmington which touches me deeply. While he did have pride in some ways, he was never boastful about who he rubbed elbows with. After hearing the stories from former clients, Lenoard and my mother, I can see how he was an institution to the city. But to me, his tale represents a significant piece of our state’s culture.
Mickey was a man of few means who came to America in search of a better life. Despite the struggles he endured in his early years in our state, he was successful in owning his own home and took care of his family over the years. He took immense pride in his work. I could see it in the laser focus he had when I looked at how my brother’s dress pants lie on his legs.
It’s hard to say whether Mickey achieved that success because of Wilmington or because of his own skill. As I reflect on those Sunday afternoons playing with my several cousins among his garden of roses, one thing is clear: it was a very rich life indeed.
