Harry Lloyd Miller

At the age of 17 he joined the navy on June 29, 1950. He was a copilot of the Mars Airplane which flew out of Hawaii to the Philippines.

While still serving in the Navy, he met his wife of 60 years, Rose Marie, at a dance hall. They were married in Las Vegas, Nevada in 1955 and had 3 children; Dan, Tamra and Denise.

He loved to fly so much that he bought his own Aeronca Chief Airplane while living in Crestmore, California around 1964.

Daughter Jamra remembers, “For just a fraction of a second, I can be transported back through the passage of time within the confines of my mind, a replaying of a motion picture that is triggered by a peculiar smell, song, or sight. This happens whenever I buy a box of Cracker Jacks. Cracker Jacks remind me of my first plane ride.

I was around 6 years old when my father purchased his own plane for recreational use. My father liked to fly and spend a lot of time doing it. As a family, we would go to the airport and walk around the planes. Sometimes the owners would let us climb up into the cockpit and play pilot. I can still remember the smell of the grease and sweat that would fill my senses in the hanger where the planes were being worked on.

One day, shortly after obtaining his plane, my father surprised my sister and me with our first flight. Being lifted up into the plane and sitting inside was a normal routine. The starting of the engine with me inside was something different. Sitting next to my father, watching the dancing instrument panel and trying to listen to what he was saying, over the roar of the engine was confusing, as I tried to absorb the unknown.

Soon we were taxiing down the runway. On and on we went the momentum of the aircraft building. This is not so bad I thought; it’s just like driving in a car. Then we were leaving the ground. My stomach felt like I was riding in the elevator at Harris’ and the bottom dropped out. Not even my expertise with my swing set glider could prepare me for my first launch into space. Up, up, up into nothingness we soared at a steep incline. Slowly my father brought the aircraft to a horizontal position and once again it was like driving a car, except that there wasn’t any scenery to the front or side. Slowly I crept towards the window so I could look down. The sight below took my breath away. My grandmothers quilt! The streets, fields and houses formed a pattern that looked just like the quilts my grandmother was always in the process of making. Many times I had observed the ritual it consisted of, with the tedious piecing of the fabric together.

As I looked closer I could see cars driving down the road, children playing, and laundry hanging out to dry. I could even see my playhouse as we flew over our neighborhood. For me, life revolved around going to school, shopping with my mother and visiting relatives but in that instance I suddenly realized that there was a whole lot of living going on outside the confine of my life.

We flew around for a while longer, and then after we landed, I ate a box of Cracker Jacks, and thought about the numerous times I had visited the airport watching takeoffs and landings of so many planes wondering what it was like to be suspended in the sky; and now I knew. No longer would I view my life as a separate entity of its own but as a remnant of material, stitched together to create a picture in the patchwork of life.

Now when I pick up a box of Cracker Jacks, with the beaming face smiling at me, I smile back and remember grandmother’s quilt from the sky.”

Besides flying he loved to take the family camping. Many summers we were off to various places. He also went to family reunions every year, which was held in different states and liked going to New Mexico for the Balloon Festival. One year, we even camped for 3 months at Zephyr Cove, Lake Tahoe, Nevada while he worked at a resort as an electrician.

He was also an avid volunteer whenever he could. Many times for the Moose Lodge, VFW and at the Harrison Canyon flooding. Helping anyone, anywhere and wherever he could. Always lending a helping hand.

He was a member of the IBEW Local #477 for over 50 years and a lifetime member of the VFW.

Other hobbies included going boating, skiing, deep sea fishing and playing card with the grandkids.