I also wanted to share a "pepsi" story. When my son Jeffrey was young he would visit and PAPA would ask him if he could get him a "Beer" (pepsi of course)  From then on whenever we would visit, first thing Jeffrey would ask is Papa do you want a Pepsi-Beer?  For years to come he still called it Pepsi-Beer !

So Sorry for your loss, I know your father loved you guys so much. I am saddened by this news. Kari (raymas daughter)

Memories of William Earl Miller
October 25, 1940- August 06, 2010

Dad, Grandpa, Uncle Bill, Sweet William, Billy, Bill, “Driver”, cousin, “Bus driver Bill”, or “the Old Man”, he went by many names.  No matter how you knew my father, thank you for being here with us today.

I’d like to share some thoughts about my father with everyone, but don’t feel that I could get through this if I tried speaking here today.

The earliest memories I have of my father are of him sitting at his desk in his bedroom on Rose Street working on his model trains.  Aside from his family, I would have to say that his greatest love was trains!

Whether as a passenger, operator, photographer, or model railroad fanatic, dad loved trains.  Electric Freight Motors, Trolley Cars, Steam Engines, and early diesel engines were among his favourites.  There wasn’t much that he couldn’t tell you about these trains.

Another early memory I have is “chasing hoops” on the platform at Galt station.  Each train that passed the station required order papers to be given to the head-end and tail-end crews operating the train.  This was done by attaching written orders to a wooden pole with a circular hoop on one end.  As the train passed the station the Engineer would stick his arm out the window and catch the hoop held by my father.  The orders were removed from the hoop and the hoop was then tossed onto the platform, usually some distance down the track.  Well, my brother and I would chase the hoops and bring them back to my dad.  All of this next to a speeding freight train.  Not bad for a four and 6 year old.  Also not something we would allow today.  But that was before seatbelts and bicycle helmets too.

My dad had a knack for detail and story telling.  Just last week he was recounting a story about a train photo from over 60 years ago.  He knew train numbers, schedule times, and the names of everyone.
A story told by him was like climbing a tree.  You started at the base and slowly climbed the trunk.  Each branch of the tree was another batch of details that he felt he HAD to pass along in order that you fully appreciated the story.  You would climb this tree with him to the very top until you had visited every branch and leaf on the tree if you could last that long.  He would know every “leaf”, and every detail, and some of these “trees” were mighty tall.  I couldn’t help but think as he told me his final train story last week that one day all of this knowledge and story telling ability would be lost.  A day later, he was gone, and now so too are so many things.

Luckily, Dad got to fly with me, see me get married, and spend some wonderful time with my girls.  For this I am truly thankful. 

I have too many good memories to share them all.

I have heard many stories about my father this past week.  Sadly, I fear that I will not remember them.
If you have a story or stories you would like to share, I would be grateful if you jotted them down or sent them to me.

“Bus driver Bill” loved to drive.  He loved old radio shows, Elvis Presley, country music, steel drums, food (especially second helpings), Pepsi not Coke, GALT not Cambridge, and gadgets of all kinds.

He shared the love of trains that he learned from his father.  He in turn passed the train bug on to my brother.  They all shared a love of trains and train photography.  “Railfans” they call themselves, or is it foamers now?  I never did figure that one out.

My Grandpa Miller loved his grandchildren as my father did his.

I know that my father would want to thank my mother for the loving way that she raised their two boys, and for the many sacrifices she made along the way.  Dad was a very proud father, but gave her ALL of the credit for how we turned out.

I would like to thank Pat Brunel.  Pat was my father’s loving friend and travel companion for the past four years.  She brought my father back from a very sad time in his life and breathed life and vitality back into him.  She gave us back our father, brighter and happier than I could ever remember him.  He got to do more things and see more places than we could have ever imagined.  For this I will be forever grateful.  Thank you Pat for all that you did for my father and for us.

Thank you so much to everyone that has shown love and support for us during this difficult time.

My father’s favourite train was a Canadian Pacific F2a Jubilee steam locomotive #3002.

I love him, and I miss him so much already.  I can’t believe he’s gone.

“Canadian Pacific 3002 now leaving Galt Station!”

Dad, Grandpa, “Uncle Bill”, “Sweet William”, “Billy”, “Bill”, “Cousin” and “Driver”!

ALL ABOARD!

Our thoughts and prayers are with you and your family at this difficult time.

“DAD”

I don’t know where to begin when thinking about my Dad.  Words can never do justice to the feelings and emotions surfacing today.  But I will do my best …..

There are so many ways that I have followed in his footsteps, yet other ways not.  My fascination with railroads came from him, as did his from my Grandfather.  As a 3rd generation rail enthusiast, and all three of us being “Bill”, I often found it amusing when friends would mix us up, and that happens still today.  Thanks Dad for always encouraging me and teaching me not only about the railroads, but for the history lessons over the last 40-odd years.

My Dad left his job with the Canadian Pacific Railway in 1968 to work for the Galt Public Utilities Commission as a bus driver.  The future working for the railroad was not looking good due to technology changes so he made this choice.  From a fairly young age I decided I too wanted to drive bus, a classic example of wanting to be like Dad.  I would ride around with him for many hours, and he was most tolerant.  One day in November 1978 when nobody was around, my Dad let me drive a Cambridge Transit bus by myself for the first time.  I was 15.  It took until 1987 with me in need of a new career but a door opened that April.  Dad not only drove for Cambridge Transit, but his love for the job also led him to moonlight as a highway coach charter and tour driver for many years.  He called me and said United Trails was looking for a driver, and already having obtained the required license he told me to apply.  I was not confident about being hired with no experience, but I did.  Today I not only drive the same streets that he did, but I work with some people who worked with and were trained by Dad.  In the truest sense of the word, I was also trained by him.  I am most grateful to my current transit family, and to all the retired guys who would always ask “How is your Dad” when I saw them.

Last summer, my wonderful wife Lori had her father taken from her.  That experience left me with a real wake up call.  Dad was a couple of years younger, but I knew time would run out someday, a thought that had haunted me over several years.  It was not long before I was blessed with a great opportunity, and the prompting to recognize it when I learned of a rail excursion with double-headed steam locomotives from Alma to Cadillac, Michigan.  My friend Paul first suggested riding it, and I knew I had to do it.  Within minutes I felt the desire to take Dad as a birthday gift.  I knew this would be like a dream for him, and for me.  On October 3rd we took that trip, and my Dad conveyed throughout his appreciation, recollected similar times Grandpa and he shared, and told me that he loved me and was so glad to share this with me.  Few things endure like a common obsession between father and son, and this will be one of the strongest memories I carry forward from today.  Thank-you Dad for sharing it with me.

I sat down in my chair earlier this week with one of many boxes of railroad photographs that my Dad gave me a few years ago.  I didn’t know how it would work out emotionally, but I viewed it as therapy of a sort.  Before I opened the box, I called downstairs to my son Connor and asked him to bring me a Pepsi from the fridge.  In his typical cheerful way he responded “One Pepsi coming up!” and soon I was sitting down with the spirit of Dad over my shoulder doing what we had done so many times.  I also felt my Grandpa’s presence even though I was physically alone.  There will be many times I will repeat this with so many thousands of photos to look at.  It brought me a peaceful feeling, in part because I know Dad is happy I am doing it.

I am thankful to so many people who enriched and shared Dad’s life, through good times and bad.  There are so many that at the risk of mentioning some and not others, I am just going to say that you all know who you are and that my family and I are so thankful to you all.

Dad - I am not going to say “goodbye”, but rather “I’ll see ya’ later Old Man” because I know this to be the truth.  There is no doubt that whenever I see a train I am going to think of you.  

Someday I will  join you, so rest up because we have a lot to talk about.

Love, “Billy”

Bruce, Tiffany, Ashley, Jessica:

So sorry to hear about your Father, and Grandfather.  We'll be thinking of you on Thursday.

Sincerely,

Bruce, Mary Ann, and Sydney Klassen

AVIS DE DÉCÈS

Mr. William "Bill" Earl Miller

25 octobre 1940 – 6 août 2010

T. Little Funeral Home & Cremation Centre

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