By Jym Nixon
To truly understand the legacy of one, James Orlando Miller Jr., one must know that according to his own mouth, he did not find his purpose until the point in his life a gambling enthusiast like himself (at least for the first part of his life) might call the three-quarter pole. He would say, when asked, that the story belonging to him, was backwards for Hollywood’s taste. The first half a screenwriter would struggle to maintain even an “R” rating. The last half might be to clean and spiritual even for the Wonderful World of Disney that played on Sunday evenings for so many years. However, one common thread ties his entire life story together and leaves a legacy for us all: tenacity. And this tenacious spirit played out whether drinking in the local pub or preaching in a prison.
But the story actually begins long before he was born. For his father was not given a name at birth. Rather, James grand-parents called his father Buck until his twelfth birthday. At that time, James, Sr., was given the gift of naming himself. Having thought long and hard about it, he chose James and Orlando, after the kings of England and Spain, respectively. This noble aspiration would spill down for at least three generations. James grandson, the first born son in his family, would be given the name James and the Orlando would be replaced with Nolan, a name that means noble.
Born June 12, 1906, the heart of his story begins at the age of fifteen. The second of six children, James, Sr., died in this particular year of James Junior’s life. He was a junior in High School and the loss of a father intensified his tenacity through perfectionism. On a first-term report card he received what for him was an inexcusable mark, a C. He ran away from home, vowing only to return if his mother would not force him to return to school. She complied, and thus began a rabbit trail that would continue for twenty years.
During this time the day jobs were various, mostly in sales and always with a touch of the mundane. But the night job was always the same. James was an avid gambler and, whether he used a pool cue or a deck of cards to do it, his supplemental income was the taking of yours. These were the days of Minnesota Fats and the like in Kansas City and James might have been numbered among them. In fact, he at one point earned the right to play against a professional pool player on a local radio broadcast.
Knowing the ability of his opponent, James chose a defensive to increase his chances of winning. However, the radio promoter insisted he change this because it was dragging the game out beyond the length of airtime they had set aside for this event and consequently, Jim lost. No worries, however. Sharks like him knew there were plenty of easy fish to gobble up in the sea.
This brought him to the most important adventure on his rabbit trail. During this adventure, he found himself looking down the barrel of a gun while being robbed. Here he found extra money helping men find extra-curriculars. James drove a taxi and though the pick up points were as various as the buildings they were in front of, most trips ended at a whore house from which he received kick-backs for trouble. In the unscrupulous first act of his adulthood Jim always found ways to earn beyond his means.
However, this final portion of his rabbit trail led directly back to the mainline. One night, probably buying a round of drinks while bragging about some John he had dropped off, but not before emptying a good portion of his pockets during a hand of poker or a game of snooker, Louise Carrie Markmus and her sister Grace strolled into the pub. Louise would later claim that James was, the most stuck up guy she had ever met. But that did not stop her and Grace from finding excuses to utilize his taxi services.
Being the ladies man Jim was, you might see quickly that his first attempts at wooing Louise would be, of course, the lack of the flag drop. In spite of not graduating from High School, James was a very intelligent man. And in spite of Louise’s snide comments about the size of his head, he knew she was interested in him. One might imagine the conversations Grace was forced to endure while biting her tongue and rolling her eyes during this time.
In spite of his stubborn pride, Louise agreed to marry him on June 15, 1941. In that day a marriage like theirs was performed as an afterthought to the Sunday Morning service and the reception that followed took on the form of a picnic in the park. During the short ceremony and following reception, Louise worried about the choice she was making. The fires of passion between Jim and an alleged Swedish bombshell had barely had time to cool before the whirlwind between Louise and Jim had taken them both up. And since it was the Swede who had called off the engagement, Louise wondered that day if she was merely a rebound fling.
But soon, she would know better. She would quickly learn to love the tenacious spirit that defined James Orlando Miller, the Second. Jim could no more turn his back on his commitment to her in marriage than he could walk away from a card game full of novices. In fact, this tenacious commitment to his wife would later lead him down straighter paths.
But not before the war caught up with him in a manner of speaking. In the winter of forty-three into forty-four, James was drafted. This was not exactly an ideal time for the draft to catch up with a man. Not only was he still, for all intents and purposes a newlywed, but draftees in this time frame might find themselves first in line on the beaches of Normandy in a mere six months. His grandson would comment that he himself would have died, along with his grandfather, that day while watching the opening sequence of, Saving Private Ryan. However, flat feet preserved him and his offspring stateside. Jim was on a collision course with his true path.
He and Louise spent the first five years of marriage in his family’s Kansas City, Missouri, home before the lure of Santa Anita (the famous Southern California Horse Race Track) became too much for James to endure. So with the war over and opportunity knocking, the Millers loaded up their 41 Studebaker and headed for Southern California. This is where they had spent their honeymoon and James was especially eager to leave the snow in the rearview.
Early on in California, James dabbled in Real Estate in the groves of Orange County. In fact, James tried to convince his wife to let him purchase a plot in the Anaheim area because it had three corners on it. This would allow him to sell those corner lots to oil companies for gas stations, a lucrative venture in Real Estate in the waning 1940s. Louise somehow talked him out of what would have been the best gamble of his life. For as best as the family can figure through what little was told, that plot of land is now the Anaheim Hilton Towers and surrounding businesses, immediately across the street from Disneyland. The irony is that the High School that James dropped out of, Walt Disney graduated from.
So between the high stakes of Real Estate and lure of the ponies at Santa Anita, James had found what he thought was his life. Louise, however, felt the burden of a promise she had made to her mother at the time of her death in 1942. She had vowed she would return to church when her mother died. Now James had a quandary for his ever-present tenacity: see this as a golden opportunity for playing the ponies or fulfill his obligation as a gentleman to never leave his wife unescorted. His decision may shed ultimate light on the cross-armed stoic poise he took in the pew each Sunday. After all, the man Jesus had trumped him with his own strong suit, but he had no obligation to pretend he liked it. And so it went for three years.
Louise was never alone, and James was never more than physically there. Then came the arrival of their little bundle of joy, Nancy Louise, and her birth on February the sixth, 1947. Now it was Louise who faced the quandary. For Louise desired more than anything to have their girl dedicated on Easter Sunday as a couple united. But she knew that her self-professed atheist husband would be as adamant about not giving lip service to raising their daughter in a Christian home as he was about her attending any function, including church, unescorted.
A battle was about to ensue, but not between them. In as much as James was a gentleman, Louise was a lady. She would have to confront him in a backhanded manner to not violate her own chivalrous code. A plot was hatched with Pastor Lynn England of Faith United Brethren Church, where they attended in their hometown of Santa Ana, and his wife. After a wonderful home cooked meal by Louis, the two men retired to the living room to talk. While the wives cleaned up and then prayed in the kitchen, the men continued their debate until 2 am. The avid card player would be trumped once again. For Pastor England, knowing of Jim’s tenacity and the fact that his word was his bond, got Jim to vow to do two things after he left: to read the Gospel of John, and to pray to this God he did not believe in, if only once.
Little is known about Jim’s encounter with God that evening except that both the pocket New Testament and the pack of cigarettes were read. We know that Louise would not find out until later of the promise or what transpired secretly in that bathroom. But what we do know is the following Sunday, Easter Sunday, Pastor England laid out the invitation to receive Christ and Jim all but darted down the aisle. Many were shocked and amazed as their token atheist was atheistic no more. And Louise received her wish as Jim joined her in dedicating their child, their baby girl, to God.
Then the journey of James took a sharp turn to the right. He had begun going with a group from Faith Church to the Orange County Jail in order to hold services for the inmates. After many ventures with other men speaking, Jim finally agreed to take a shot at preaching himself. Many men responded to the message he had been given by God. A long time friend of his, also at the prison that day, relayed to Jim that maybe here at last, he had found his purpose, his calling.
But if I might remind you, Jim had never finished High School. So Jim took the test for his GED and set a high score that held for years after. Then the United Brethren Church sent him to pastor a parish in Julian, Nebraska, where he could simultaneously attend Peru State Teachers College. James graduated Summa Cum Laude in 1954, at the tender age of forty eight.
The United Brethren, knowing of Jim’s distaste for snow, returned him to sunny California, Stockton to be precise, in 1955. Jim was given a home study course to complete his theological training and in 1959, he was officially ordained by Bishop Sparks of the California Conference.
Two more stops in Northern California, Selma and Durham, proceeded his eventual return to the United Brethren Church in Torrance, a suburb of Los Angeles. He served three final years here before his wife Louise’s health made his retirement advantageous. So in 1971, he retired for the first time.
You see, for someone with the tenacity of James Orlando Miller, retirement, the way most people see it, is a horror story. Jim was always looking for something constructive to do with his time. In the beginning, he filled in as interim pastor, first at North Long Beach United Methodist, and then at Walnut United Methodist (this was after the United Brethren and the Methodist Churches merged). Then he again dabbled in Real Estate, played golf as long as his health would allow, and grew gardens of wonderful fruits and vegetables. His grandkids remember long hours in the tops of plum trees in his yard eating the fruit right off the branches.
His son-in-law will tell you another story of his tenacity. Jim fancied himself adept at many games, including chess. However, his son-in-law, an avid reader, had read enough books on Chess strategy to make Jim look rather foolish the first time they played. Jim took to reading himself, insisting on playing until the point at which he could best his son-in-law in chess, as well as other games.
Being that he and Louise, in retirement, maintained a close proximity to their only daughter’s family, his three grandchildren (Jym, Shelley, and Jason) would often find themselves embroiled in more adult card games like Pinochle and Canasta to pass the time while mom and dad were away. He sternly taught the children to play well enough to make the games worth while. This, of course, backfired on him as the children also learned how to beat him at his own games. But they will tell you to this day that once they learned how to pin him down, he was almost insufferable when he out-maneuvered them in spite of their best efforts to the contrary. His tenacity was never far from the surface.
Ultimately, that is the legacy he left behind. For his tenacity always seemed to find a way to help things grow. Whether it was money through gambling and kick-backs, people through ministry, or fruits and vegetables through gardening, Jim had a way of coaxing life out of the people or things around him. His stubborn exterior sometimes made it hard to see, but Jim, through his tenacity, desired the best for everyone, and everything.
By Jym Nixon is a freelance writer from Arizona.
Published U.S. Legacies March 2006
- Log in to post comments