I saw my hero on Tuesday night. Since the first night I ever saw him, I have had the deepest admiration for Jim Miller. He is a man that is larger than life. He served in WWII, and was captured by the Nazis. He was a starting lineman for the University of Tennessee. He was a 7 time world champion, winning 5 of them before I was in grade school. On a hot July day in 1992, in the Superdome in New Orleans, he won his seventh gold medal. I was there. At times it felt like it was just him and me on the stage. For that one magical moment, Jim Miller and his chorus were like one person, our hearts beating in sync, and our entire worlds, in those big hands of his. When it was over, seven minutes on stage seemed as fleeting as mere seconds. The crowd stood up and roared for us, and chanted, “Its Miller Time.” Jim was in his element, and had, for the briefest time, had taken me along with him. It is a feeling that I will never forget.
Some time later, I was making a presentation to some perspective members of the chorus. I remember this like it was yesterday. I told them that if I could model my musical career after any one person, it would be Jim Miller. I did not know that he had quietly slipped into the room, and heard what I had said. He spoke to me later, and told me that he had no idea that I felt that way, and he thanked me. Can you imagine that? Your hero thanking you for a simple word of kindness. I was struck dumb. He is old enough to be my father, so I have never been able to socialize with him like some of the older members of the chorus, and I was never privileged to be in a quartet that was good enough to get coaching from him. You don’t take little leaguers to batting practice with Mark McGuire.
I hadn’t seen Jim for a while, only at the International contests where his photography company does the chorus photos, but that was hardly the time to say hello. I am so focused when we are in the contest rotation that I hardly talk to anyone.
The chorus is having our 50th year reunion, and Jim was named director Emeritus some years ago, so he is coming back to direct our reunion chorus for a song or two. It was quite emotional to be directed by him again. He still dominates the room, but the years are wearing on him. He can’t stand for very long anymore, and his hands shake when he holds them up to direct. He is such a proud man, it broke my heart to see him make a fist to try and keep his hand from shaking. He would lose his train of thought now and then, but you could still see how the music made him feel young again.
The last thing he said to the chorus, before his part of the rehearsal was over was this; “Guys, there are times in your life when you think that you have done something for the last time. But somehow, you wonderful guys keep finding a way to bring an old Has Been back to let me have one more chance in front of you, and I don’t know how to thank you.” I was choking back tears then as I am now.
Someday soon, there will be an e mail that arrives that announces the passing of my hero. I will probably have to take off work that day. I will be one of thousands that goes to Louisville Kentucky to say goodbye. I hope against hope that somehow, before that day comes, I find the courage, and the right words to write to him and tell him what he has meant to me. I would like very much for him to know.
Peace.
