Herbert Lincoln Whittier

March 26, 1941June 6, 2021

He wouldn’t want us to lament his passing for long but rather to celebrate his life. Herbert Lincoln Miller was a tattooed Professor, cooler and tougher than Indy, who drank rice wine and sang with Dayak headhunters. He could chat in a half-dozen languages, he was charming and gregarious with friends and strangers alike, he collected and tinkered with vintage motorbikes and cars, he strummed a mean guitar, and the way his son, Rob, remembers it, he built a house with his bare hands.

He had a passion and commitment to the field of international development. It suited his love of the world’s peoples and cultures and his extroverted nature and he always seemed genuinely enthused about his work. His dinner table was rich with guests from around the world and the sound of friendly banter in different dialects. He and his wife, Patricia, went far beyond in the care and education of their son James, who has special needs, pushing for new programs to be created in the school system and learning sign language and helping him become the amazing human he is today. He provided his sons with a great childhood full of travel and adventure and laughter and was a good husband and father. But his best was yet to come. Because for all of the good that his family had seen, nothing could compare to when, some seventeen years ago, Patricia was diagnosed with cancer. In a moment, his family saw a man become absolutely committed to another person’s care, with every fiber of his being, and couldn’t help but love him even more. He spent every moment of those next six years by her side, tirelessly providing for her care and comfort, reading every study about new treatments and cures, he dedicated everything to her and he never gave up hope and still he supported and cared for James. And when she passed, he mourned but didn’t take a day before turning that focus to his James and his needs. Caring for his family was his sole purpose for almost two decades and he’s barely had a chance to rest.

So now it’s his turn to take a break. But it be for long. Surely he’s already making friends with the locals, brushing up on the local dialects and swilling rice wine and planning his next adventure...

Rest In Peace Dad, you earned it.


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