The story of my dad, Judge Robert L. Miller, Sr.
by daughter Mindy Moore
ELEANOR ROOSEVELT said, “When you cease to make a contribution, you begin to die.”
By Mrs. Roosevelt’s definition, my dad, Robert L. Miller, Senior, never will begin to die! Why? Because he never stops contributing. His mind works 24 hours a day, ever thinking about ways to solve problems - ways to make life easier for people like himself. His theory is that if he can solve a problem he experiences personally, he will simultaneously solve it for many, many others. And he is right. Now in his 90’s, when he should be resting and taking it easy, my dad chooses to get up every morning and grow Rising Improvements, a company he started in 2014 with the mission of creating mobility aids designed to help people remain independent longer and better. He works tirelessly with engineers, attorneys and manufacturing companies, creating prototypes, obtaining patents and trademarks, arranging for molds and making products. My dad just keeps on going and we - as in his kids - well know the reason for this. He has told us many times that his mother's most prized life lesson was, "You're allowed to fail. But you're never allowed to quit." And he doesn't.
My dad loves learning new things - how to sell on Amazon.com, how to use YouTube videos to make a sales pitch, and the art of doing business with China. He delights in using technology to further his goals. He is thrilled to participate in important meetings through teleconferencing, never having to leave the comfort of his home and the familiarity of his basement office. My dad is old-school in his values but he is on the cutting edge of every opportunity that helps him get the job done. I have the pleasure of working with him nearly every day on his many exciting inventions and they are some of the best days of my life.
You might be interested to know that before Rising Improvements, in his 80’s, again during a stage of life when by all accounts my dad should have been resting and taking life easy, his life was altered one day when he opened up a South Bend (Indiana) Tribune to a photo of what he thought was a homeless Veteran sleeping on an abandoned trucking terminal platform on an 18 degree winter day. To him, this was a travesty and he determined to do something about it. So in 2009, he founded Miller's Vets, a drill team of selected homeless Veterans in South Bend, Indiana. His idea was to get these men and women back in uniform, and offer them renewed spirit and enhanced self-esteem by providing opportunities to re-learn and then display advanced skills of flag, movement and weapon through color guard performances all over the community.
For his determination to implement the program, and for its overwhelming success, my dad was awarded Volunteer of the Year through the Center for the Homeless that same year. The following year, in 2010, he founded "The Last Salute," a program whereby Miller’s Vets perform a full Military Funeral with all Military Honors including the 21 Volley Rifle Salute; ceremonial folding and presentation of the American Flag; and the sounding of Taps for Veterans who have no family, church or Veterans organization to assist them with funeral plans.
Also in 2010, still seeing more to be done, my dad founded Miller’s Vets Garden of Peace, a section of 65 burial plots in the cemetery behind Portage Manor in South Bend that serves as a final resting place for Veterans who otherwise would not be given proper burials after they die.
One short year later, in 2011, The Robert L. Miller, Sr. Veteran's Center at 747 S. Michigan Street was dedicated after my dad purchased the building and cheered on renovations which produced a beautiful facility that, today, 24 Veterans call home. The veteran's center, which is affiliated with the South Bend Center for the Homeless, helps veterans without a home receive treatment and therapy as they transition back into society after serving our country. On Veterans Day 2015, a new recreational facility for veterans staying at the Robert L. Miller Sr Veterans Center was dedicated.
HELEN KELLER said, "Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved."
Between Miller's Vets in his 80's, and now Rising Improvements in his 90's, my dad has made and is making amazing contributions to the world around him. But what is it that prompts a man to literally give up his retirement, to get up every morning and sit down at his desk to work after a lifetime of doing just that? For my dad, it is about character. And as Helen Keller said, character isn’t developed in ease and quiet. She said trial and suffering is the catalyst for a strengthened soul; a cleared vision, an inspired ambition and achieved success. Many who know my dad personally have seen glimpses over time of how his character was shaped - not so much by trial and suffering - but rather how, through ingenuity and innovation and a keen survival instinct, he has overcome the trial and suffering that has been visited upon him throughout the years.
Born in December of 1920, my dad grew up during the Great Depression in the small rural town of Wilkinson in Hancock County, Indiana. The family moved to Indianapolis when he was nine years old. Two years later, the death of his father left the family in abject poverty. To make ends meet, my dad's mom, my grandmother, took in boarders and roomers and also, throughout the week, baked and sold Parker House Rolls, small rolls folded over just once. In a Model T Ford his brother Earl found him for just $15, my dad, by now in high school, would deliver his mother’s delicious bread on Saturdays, two dozen rolls for a quarter.
My dad excelled in football at Shortridge High School. It was the late 1930’s. The football season in his senior year had just ended when my dad received a surprising invitation from Mike Layden who routinely refereed Indianapolis High School football games. My dad, along with his football coach, was invited to have dinner at the apartment of Mr. Layden. Following dinner, Mr. Layden made a phone call to his brother, Elmer, who also happened to be the Coach of Notre Dame's Football Program. After some discussion, Elmer instructed his brother to extend a Notre Dame football ride to my dad, which my dad readily and gratefully accepted. It changed his life forever. The following September, 1938, my dad packed his things and moved up to South Bend where he made his home with his brother Earl and Earl’s wife, Helen, while he attended classes.
Coach Layden chose to put my dad in the position of guard, which was exactly what he played in high school. But instead of just pulling out of the line and blocking straight ahead, or right or left like in high school, guards in the Notre Dame football program were coached to drop back, turn and lead the play. My dad had never done a play like that and just never became proficient. In fact, it seemed every time he attempted it, he sprained his ankle. So, after a year, he lost his coveted scholarship.
Determined NOT to move back to Indianapolis without a college degree, my dad worked with Coach Layden who offered him the opportunity to transfer his scholarship to three different schools, Purdue University being one. Problem was, going to Purdue would mean he’d have to repeat his freshmen year, as the first year of Notre Dame credits were heavily Catholic courses and those wouldn’t transfer. My grandmother, whom I unfortunately never had the opportunity to meet, was quite sick at the time. My dad explained to Coach Layden that he feared being away from her for an extra year. So the coach helped line up several part time jobs my dad could do to pay his tuition and cover his costs at Notre Dame.
The biggest money-maker of the jobs my dad did to pay his way through school was selling corsages to women at the stadium on game day. Every Saturday for home games, my dad would get up at 6 a.m. and hitch a ride with a friend to a flower farm in Buchanan, Michigan, just about 35 minutes from campus, and buy a load of Dahlias. He’d fashion them into corsages and sell them outside the stadium. His favorite story is what he charged. If he could get the corsage pinned on the woman before the price was asked, it was a dollar. Otherwise, it was fifty cents. His thinking was, who is going to make their mother or wife or girlfriend take off a corsage because it’s too expensive? Good business lesson!
Another job the coach arranged for my dad was to roll out Notre Dame’s tennis courts with great big steel rollers filled with water to keep them smooth. For his meals, my dad mopped the floors in the dining hall every morning. Another job he held was working in the library putting books back and that gave him credits toward tuition.
Then the new airport in South Bend opened and my dad and George Stratigos, a dear friend and classmate of his at Notre Dame, were able to secure a concession business whereby they made and sold hamburgers. My dad often liked to joke that George ate up all the profits.
Yet another business my dad engaged in was storing the furniture and other possessions of college students in the summer. My dad liked to tell us that an extra bonus from that job was when a student ended up not claiming his belongings in the fall for one reason or another and my dad was then entitled to sell them, providing additional money to make ends meet.
One of the greatest lessons my dad handed down to us was the result of an experience he had on that Notre Dame campus so long ago. A wealthy fellow student asked one day if my dad would like to accompany him and his father to lunch and my dad readily agreed. As the three were walking across the parking lot, my dad spotted a penny on the ground. Too proud to stop and pick it up, he walked on by, sick to his stomach that the coin was on the pavement and not in his pocket. His friend’s dad put a firm hand on my dad's shoulder, turned him around and walked him back to the penny. He said, “Pick it up, Robert. That’s the easiest one percent of a dollar you’ll ever earn.”
After graduating from Notre Dame in 1942 with an accounting degree, my dad was commissioned as an Ensign in the United States Navy and ordered to Harvard University Business School for training as a Supply Corps Officer. In 1944, he was ordered aboard the U.S.S. Essex CV-9, a fast attack aircraft carrier in the South Pacific, upon which he served through five major campaign battles until the end of the war. As a Battery Officer of a quad 40MM anti-aircraft gun, he was wounded by one of two Japanese suicide kamikazes who crashed his ship. His awards include the Purple Heart, Combat Medal and nine additional metals and commendations.
My dad didn’t come back from WWII without some peculiar emotions. To this day, he loves bad weather such as dark skies and rainstorms because those were the only times that the Japanese suicide kamikazes could not fly and attack his aircraft carrier. That bad weather provided the very few periods for him to sleep or nap in the combat zones.
In September 1945, my dad returned to Notre Dame Law School, graduating Cum Laude in 1947 with his Doctor of Jurisprudence Degree. He practiced law before being recalled to active-duty for the Korean War. After retiring as a Lieutenant Commander in 1953, my dad returned to the general practice of law.
Two sons, three daughters. Widowed twice. Loss of war buddies, family members and close friends. Births of grandchildren and then great grandchildren. A lifetime of events; some tragic, most incredibly joyful. Character developed through the experience of trial and suffering; or rather through the work-arounds my dad implemented as a means of going on... of not quitting.
LEONARDO da VINCI said, “It had long since come to my attention that people of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things.”
My dad has never allowed his experiences of trial and suffering to happen TO him. He rebounds. He keeps going. He keeps contributing. And those who know him can certainly attest to the fact that he "happens" to everyone and everything around him. It's exhilarating!
There is no way possible to cover all of my dad’s many lifetime contributions in the course of this short story. But I would like to hit on some quick highlights to help complete the picture of who he is and what he's done.
In 1964, my dad was elected as the Republican Congressional Candidate from the Third District, running with Presidential Candidate Barry Goldwater. He was subsequently appointed as the 4th judge of the St. Joseph Superior Court. My dad was extremely active in civic and Masonic work, acted as a President of the Exchange Club, served for more than 20 years as Secretary of the Salvation Army Advisory Board, and was a perennial leader in Veterans functions and associations.
My dad is a renowned Masonic Scholar and Author, having written two of the 29 Scottish Rite Degrees. He served for 12 years as the Active 33rd Degree Deputy, headed more than 50,000 32nd Degree Masons in Indiana and, for many years, was the Dean of the Directors of the 15 state Northern Masonic Jurisdiction.
My father's awards and honors include the Guardian of Freedom Trophy (Military Cadets of Notre Dame); 33̊ FREEMASONS "Medal of Honor"; Sagamore of the Wabash recipient; and Indiana Council of Deliberation "Medal of Honor.”
Other accomplishments we are so proud of include being admitted to South Bend, Indiana, Hall of Fame in 2010; receiving Notre Dame’s esteemed Rev. William Corby, C.S.C. Award in 2011; being awarded Lifetime Membership in the "University of Notre Dame 1842 Loyalty Society" in 2011, receiving the Hoosier Lifetime Achievement Award in 2013, and being designated a Life Patron Fellow of the St. Joseph County Bar Foundation, Inc. in 2013.
And all the while, my dad continued, and to this day continues to be an AMAZING father, grandfather and great grandfather. He is extremely generous with his money and with his time and especially with his wisdom. He helps all of his children and grandchildren with his level head and smart advice. He never says "no" when we ask for help. He is always there for us. It's very difficult to imagine there will come a day when he is no longer with us physically. The way my dad has chosen to live his life - the countless contributions he has made to the world around him - ensures that his memory and spirit will live on through all of us who love him so dearly. There could not be a better legacy. (CLICK HERE to learn more!!!).
By Mrs. Roosevelt’s definition, my dad, Robert L. Miller, Senior, never will begin to die! Why? Because he never stops contributing. His mind works 24 hours a day, ever thinking about ways to solve problems - ways to make life easier for people like himself. His theory is that if he can solve a problem he experiences personally, he will simultaneously solve it for many, many others. And he is right. Now in his 90’s, when he should be resting and taking it easy, my dad chooses to get up every morning and grow Rising Improvements, a company he started in 2014 with the mission of creating mobility aids designed to help people remain independent longer and better. He works tirelessly with engineers, attorneys and manufacturing companies, creating prototypes, obtaining patents and trademarks, arranging for molds and making products. My dad just keeps on going and we - as in his kids - well know the reason for this. He has told us many times that his mother's most prized life lesson was, "You're allowed to fail. But you're never allowed to quit." And he doesn't.
My dad loves learning new things - how to sell on Amazon.com, how to use YouTube videos to make a sales pitch, and the art of doing business with China. He delights in using technology to further his goals. He is thrilled to participate in important meetings through teleconferencing, never having to leave the comfort of his home and the familiarity of his basement office. My dad is old-school in his values but he is on the cutting edge of every opportunity that helps him get the job done. I have the pleasure of working with him nearly every day on his many exciting inventions and they are some of the best days of my life.
You might be interested to know that before Rising Improvements, in his 80’s, again during a stage of life when by all accounts my dad should have been resting and taking life easy, his life was altered one day when he opened up a South Bend (Indiana) Tribune to a photo of what he thought was a homeless Veteran sleeping on an abandoned trucking terminal platform on an 18 degree winter day. To him, this was a travesty and he determined to do something about it. So in 2009, he founded Miller's Vets, a drill team of selected homeless Veterans in South Bend, Indiana. His idea was to get these men and women back in uniform, and offer them renewed spirit and enhanced self-esteem by providing opportunities to re-learn and then display advanced skills of flag, movement and weapon through color guard performances all over the community.
For his determination to implement the program, and for its overwhelming success, my dad was awarded Volunteer of the Year through the Center for the Homeless that same year. The following year, in 2010, he founded "The Last Salute," a program whereby Miller’s Vets perform a full Military Funeral with all Military Honors including the 21 Volley Rifle Salute; ceremonial folding and presentation of the American Flag; and the sounding of Taps for Veterans who have no family, church or Veterans organization to assist them with funeral plans.
Also in 2010, still seeing more to be done, my dad founded Miller’s Vets Garden of Peace, a section of 65 burial plots in the cemetery behind Portage Manor in South Bend that serves as a final resting place for Veterans who otherwise would not be given proper burials after they die.
One short year later, in 2011, The Robert L. Miller, Sr. Veteran's Center at 747 S. Michigan Street was dedicated after my dad purchased the building and cheered on renovations which produced a beautiful facility that, today, 24 Veterans call home. The veteran's center, which is affiliated with the South Bend Center for the Homeless, helps veterans without a home receive treatment and therapy as they transition back into society after serving our country. On Veterans Day 2015, a new recreational facility for veterans staying at the Robert L. Miller Sr Veterans Center was dedicated.
HELEN KELLER said, "Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved."
Between Miller's Vets in his 80's, and now Rising Improvements in his 90's, my dad has made and is making amazing contributions to the world around him. But what is it that prompts a man to literally give up his retirement, to get up every morning and sit down at his desk to work after a lifetime of doing just that? For my dad, it is about character. And as Helen Keller said, character isn’t developed in ease and quiet. She said trial and suffering is the catalyst for a strengthened soul; a cleared vision, an inspired ambition and achieved success. Many who know my dad personally have seen glimpses over time of how his character was shaped - not so much by trial and suffering - but rather how, through ingenuity and innovation and a keen survival instinct, he has overcome the trial and suffering that has been visited upon him throughout the years.
Born in December of 1920, my dad grew up during the Great Depression in the small rural town of Wilkinson in Hancock County, Indiana. The family moved to Indianapolis when he was nine years old. Two years later, the death of his father left the family in abject poverty. To make ends meet, my dad's mom, my grandmother, took in boarders and roomers and also, throughout the week, baked and sold Parker House Rolls, small rolls folded over just once. In a Model T Ford his brother Earl found him for just $15, my dad, by now in high school, would deliver his mother’s delicious bread on Saturdays, two dozen rolls for a quarter.
My dad excelled in football at Shortridge High School. It was the late 1930’s. The football season in his senior year had just ended when my dad received a surprising invitation from Mike Layden who routinely refereed Indianapolis High School football games. My dad, along with his football coach, was invited to have dinner at the apartment of Mr. Layden. Following dinner, Mr. Layden made a phone call to his brother, Elmer, who also happened to be the Coach of Notre Dame's Football Program. After some discussion, Elmer instructed his brother to extend a Notre Dame football ride to my dad, which my dad readily and gratefully accepted. It changed his life forever. The following September, 1938, my dad packed his things and moved up to South Bend where he made his home with his brother Earl and Earl’s wife, Helen, while he attended classes.
Coach Layden chose to put my dad in the position of guard, which was exactly what he played in high school. But instead of just pulling out of the line and blocking straight ahead, or right or left like in high school, guards in the Notre Dame football program were coached to drop back, turn and lead the play. My dad had never done a play like that and just never became proficient. In fact, it seemed every time he attempted it, he sprained his ankle. So, after a year, he lost his coveted scholarship.
Determined NOT to move back to Indianapolis without a college degree, my dad worked with Coach Layden who offered him the opportunity to transfer his scholarship to three different schools, Purdue University being one. Problem was, going to Purdue would mean he’d have to repeat his freshmen year, as the first year of Notre Dame credits were heavily Catholic courses and those wouldn’t transfer. My grandmother, whom I unfortunately never had the opportunity to meet, was quite sick at the time. My dad explained to Coach Layden that he feared being away from her for an extra year. So the coach helped line up several part time jobs my dad could do to pay his tuition and cover his costs at Notre Dame.
The biggest money-maker of the jobs my dad did to pay his way through school was selling corsages to women at the stadium on game day. Every Saturday for home games, my dad would get up at 6 a.m. and hitch a ride with a friend to a flower farm in Buchanan, Michigan, just about 35 minutes from campus, and buy a load of Dahlias. He’d fashion them into corsages and sell them outside the stadium. His favorite story is what he charged. If he could get the corsage pinned on the woman before the price was asked, it was a dollar. Otherwise, it was fifty cents. His thinking was, who is going to make their mother or wife or girlfriend take off a corsage because it’s too expensive? Good business lesson!
Another job the coach arranged for my dad was to roll out Notre Dame’s tennis courts with great big steel rollers filled with water to keep them smooth. For his meals, my dad mopped the floors in the dining hall every morning. Another job he held was working in the library putting books back and that gave him credits toward tuition.
Then the new airport in South Bend opened and my dad and George Stratigos, a dear friend and classmate of his at Notre Dame, were able to secure a concession business whereby they made and sold hamburgers. My dad often liked to joke that George ate up all the profits.
Yet another business my dad engaged in was storing the furniture and other possessions of college students in the summer. My dad liked to tell us that an extra bonus from that job was when a student ended up not claiming his belongings in the fall for one reason or another and my dad was then entitled to sell them, providing additional money to make ends meet.
One of the greatest lessons my dad handed down to us was the result of an experience he had on that Notre Dame campus so long ago. A wealthy fellow student asked one day if my dad would like to accompany him and his father to lunch and my dad readily agreed. As the three were walking across the parking lot, my dad spotted a penny on the ground. Too proud to stop and pick it up, he walked on by, sick to his stomach that the coin was on the pavement and not in his pocket. His friend’s dad put a firm hand on my dad's shoulder, turned him around and walked him back to the penny. He said, “Pick it up, Robert. That’s the easiest one percent of a dollar you’ll ever earn.”
After graduating from Notre Dame in 1942 with an accounting degree, my dad was commissioned as an Ensign in the United States Navy and ordered to Harvard University Business School for training as a Supply Corps Officer. In 1944, he was ordered aboard the U.S.S. Essex CV-9, a fast attack aircraft carrier in the South Pacific, upon which he served through five major campaign battles until the end of the war. As a Battery Officer of a quad 40MM anti-aircraft gun, he was wounded by one of two Japanese suicide kamikazes who crashed his ship. His awards include the Purple Heart, Combat Medal and nine additional metals and commendations.
My dad didn’t come back from WWII without some peculiar emotions. To this day, he loves bad weather such as dark skies and rainstorms because those were the only times that the Japanese suicide kamikazes could not fly and attack his aircraft carrier. That bad weather provided the very few periods for him to sleep or nap in the combat zones.
In September 1945, my dad returned to Notre Dame Law School, graduating Cum Laude in 1947 with his Doctor of Jurisprudence Degree. He practiced law before being recalled to active-duty for the Korean War. After retiring as a Lieutenant Commander in 1953, my dad returned to the general practice of law.
Two sons, three daughters. Widowed twice. Loss of war buddies, family members and close friends. Births of grandchildren and then great grandchildren. A lifetime of events; some tragic, most incredibly joyful. Character developed through the experience of trial and suffering; or rather through the work-arounds my dad implemented as a means of going on... of not quitting.
LEONARDO da VINCI said, “It had long since come to my attention that people of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things.”
My dad has never allowed his experiences of trial and suffering to happen TO him. He rebounds. He keeps going. He keeps contributing. And those who know him can certainly attest to the fact that he "happens" to everyone and everything around him. It's exhilarating!
There is no way possible to cover all of my dad’s many lifetime contributions in the course of this short story. But I would like to hit on some quick highlights to help complete the picture of who he is and what he's done.
In 1964, my dad was elected as the Republican Congressional Candidate from the Third District, running with Presidential Candidate Barry Goldwater. He was subsequently appointed as the 4th judge of the St. Joseph Superior Court. My dad was extremely active in civic and Masonic work, acted as a President of the Exchange Club, served for more than 20 years as Secretary of the Salvation Army Advisory Board, and was a perennial leader in Veterans functions and associations.
My dad is a renowned Masonic Scholar and Author, having written two of the 29 Scottish Rite Degrees. He served for 12 years as the Active 33rd Degree Deputy, headed more than 50,000 32nd Degree Masons in Indiana and, for many years, was the Dean of the Directors of the 15 state Northern Masonic Jurisdiction.
My father's awards and honors include the Guardian of Freedom Trophy (Military Cadets of Notre Dame); 33̊ FREEMASONS "Medal of Honor"; Sagamore of the Wabash recipient; and Indiana Council of Deliberation "Medal of Honor.”
Other accomplishments we are so proud of include being admitted to South Bend, Indiana, Hall of Fame in 2010; receiving Notre Dame’s esteemed Rev. William Corby, C.S.C. Award in 2011; being awarded Lifetime Membership in the "University of Notre Dame 1842 Loyalty Society" in 2011, receiving the Hoosier Lifetime Achievement Award in 2013, and being designated a Life Patron Fellow of the St. Joseph County Bar Foundation, Inc. in 2013.
And all the while, my dad continued, and to this day continues to be an AMAZING father, grandfather and great grandfather. He is extremely generous with his money and with his time and especially with his wisdom. He helps all of his children and grandchildren with his level head and smart advice. He never says "no" when we ask for help. He is always there for us. It's very difficult to imagine there will come a day when he is no longer with us physically. The way my dad has chosen to live his life - the countless contributions he has made to the world around him - ensures that his memory and spirit will live on through all of us who love him so dearly. There could not be a better legacy. (CLICK HERE to learn more!!!).
