We miss you so Uncle Doyle!

It hardly seems possible but 14 years ago on March 23, our family lost our dearest uncle, Doyle Miller Wyant.  Here is a eulogy that I shared on behalf of the Wyant cousins who loved him so dearly and still miss him 14 years later. Sue Ann and Rhonda, we were so blessed to have your dad in our lives and he still lives in our hearts.  Melinda and the cousins

Wyant Stairsteps:  Duane, Doyle, Dick, Denny

A TRIBUTE FROM THE WYANT COUSINS

From the time we were children and throughout each of our lives, we have always known that there was something very special and unique about Uncle Doyle.

Visiting Grandma and Grandpa Miller's ranch in Colorado

He had something very extraordinary and magnetic that made our parents and grandparents smile and caused them to get excited with the thought and anticipation that he might be "showing up."  The words, "Doyle's coming" were enough to elevate the excitement of any normal family get-together to one that was much more than ordinary.  He rarely brought gifts or presents.  He didn't have to.  His gifts were his energy, his ear-to-ear grin, his contagious chuckle that easily swelled into a full blown belly laugh, and his repertoire of "stories."  He had the gift of lighting up a room with his presence. 

Hoosier Hysteria in Monroe City, IN

Dwight and Doyle, Grandma, Diane and Grandpa

At Grandpa's Phillips 66 Gas Station in Monroe City

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Why is Duane the king of this picture?

Relaxing on a summer's night

He loved the element of surprise.  We never knew what he was going to do or when he might pop onto the scene in person or on the telephone.  Once when he planned o surprise Grandma and Grandpa Wyant with a visit, he got so excited that he nearly gave away his own surprise with the jingling of the change in his pockets, a habit that we often saw him display when he was excited about something.

The Girl he fell in love with - elegant even in a cow pasture

What a beauty - Mary Nell

Wedding Day!

Everyone in the family always looked forward to hearing "what Doyle was up to." He had a way of living his life with a spirit of adventure that inspired us all, made us laugh, and captivated our parents but also caused him to retell the story oer and over again as if its ownership had been passed on.  Doyle's stories became every one's stories an thy always included tales of his childhood antics.  There isn't a Wyant cousin around who doesn't love and remember the story of Uncle Doyle an the goat, the seeds, the lightening bugs and the frogs, or the things he used to say to the preacher.  Uncle Doyle enjoyed listening to the retelling of these tales as much as anyone else and the stories were always made even more special by watching his own enjoyment of the tale.  Just as the "punch line" would come, he might be caught rubbing the palms of his hands together, snapping his fingers or pacing back and forth while he laughed with everyone else.

Around 1958

In Alaska, Sue Ann is born

Baby Sue Ann

But in the midst of all of this storytelling was perhaps the most endearing quality Uncle Doyle possessed.  He always listened and he made you feel important even if you were no higher than his kneecaps.  He knew the art of how to ask questions and before you knew it, you were telling your own story.  He listened intently and he always seemed genuinely interested.  "Is that right?" seemed to become his own cue for assuring you of his interest, his concern and the attention he was giving you.  Months later he might ask you about something that was brought up in your story.  He might never have called you by your "real" name, opting instead for a name like "Babe," or "Horse," but he knew how to listen to you.  He made it a point to remember what was important in your life. 

Has Aunt Mary Nell had enough of the Wyant boy silliness?  She looks like she is sending a message to someone!

Happy 36th Birthday Uncle Doyle

The summer trip to Acoma. Uncle Doyle had so much fun teasing Betty about an imminent
 rainstorm and being stuck on the mesa.

Rhonda is born!

Visit to Indiana in the "El Camino"

At Dick and Betty's on 13th Street

Grandma and Grandpa Wyant's Anniversary

Special Family Times

The Doyle Wyants

Another Trip to Indiana 

At Dick and Betty's in Vincennes

Christmas

His genuine interest and concern for other people caused him to never know the meaning of the word "stranger." During his lifetime, he transformed many "strangers" into friends regardless of where he was.  Without a doubt, he touched many lives as much as he touched ours because of his talent and gift of being interest in other people, what they had to say and what they did in their lives.  He truly cared about people.

Doyle Wyant had a very special way of taking that down home Beech Hills vim and vigor for life and spreading it to such remote places as the Indian reservations in New Mexico, Arizona, and Alaska and even to far away countries like Korea.  Wherever he visited or lived, he undoubtedly touched many people's lives in ways that we will never know but surely will never be forgotten.  Just last summer, when Greg and I visited him in New Mexico, we were taking of tour of an Indian reservation when the tour guide and he finally made the connection at the end of the tour.  The tour guide, Orlando, knew there was something reminiscent and familiar about Uncle Doyle's voice and chuckle.  Overs thirty years earlier, Uncle Doyle had been Orlando's fourth grade teacher.  Orlando updated his old teacher with the story of his life and going on to college to become a teacher, inspired by a teacher that he loved, Doyle Wyant.

After Grandpa Wyant's funeral in October of 1978

The Wyant Siblings Together again

Dick and Doyle enjoying farm stories

There is a quote that says, "If you want to create a masterpiece, sometimes you have to color outside the lines,"  When this quote is read, Uncle Doyle immediately comes to mind.  He colored outside the lines for his entire life and he undoubtedly created a unique masterpiece that we were all privileged to enjoy and love.  The great thing about masterpieces is that they are never forgotten but only increase with the passage of time.   A masterpiece carries with it a promise that it will live on and continue to inspire those who know how to appreciate it's beauty.  Doyle Wyant would probably not consider his life a masterpiece and he would probably be embarrassed by the comparison but there ins no doubt in the mind of the Wyant cousins that everyone here today came to honor, remember and declare him as one - a masterpiece that we will all miss dearly.

"Tom-foolery" abounds in most instances

Visiting "Balinda" and twins, Ty and Ashley

This is a man who knew how to make children feel they were VIPs.
Hugs for Brittany

HAMLINE CHAPEL IN THE BEECH HILLS
SITE OF FAMILY REUNIONS AND FINAL RESTING PLACE OF
UNCLE DOYLE AND SO MANY OTHER WYANTS

 

RHONDA, AUNT MARY NELL AND UNCLE DOYLE 

DOYLE MILLER WYANT

BELOVED SON, BROTHER, FATHER, HUSBAND, UNCLE, FRIEND AND SO MUCH MORE.

SO LOVED BY SO MANY.

In Memory of John Aaron Miller

On February 21, we lost our Grandmother's baby brother, John Aaron Miller.  Uncle Johnny was my link to our family history in Colorado so often.  Years ago when I realized that we knew so much about Grandpa Wyant's family ancestry but very little about Grandma Wyant's, Uncle Johnny pulled out the TWO family Bibles that he had and started digging.  He photocopied pages.  He answered questions and he became curious with me.  He became almost boy like with excitement when I shared with him all of my discoveries about the Culvers and the Millers.  He shared anecdotal stories with me about Grandpa and Grandma Murray - the few that he remembered.  But most important to me, as long as he was alive, I felt like I had a link to Grandma Wyant.  He might have seemed more like a cousin to Denny, Dick, Doyle, Duane, Diane and Dwight because of his age (he was just a little older than Uncle Denny) but he was a generation ahead of  them and a full-blooded Miller like Grandma.

Aaron Pierson Miller and John Pierson Miller (Grandma Wyant and John Miller's father)
Uncle Johnny was named after his grandfather who is pictured above.

John Aaron Miller's High School Graduation
 Picture 1944

Left to right back row: Sherry Peterson Swan and Andy Swan; Johnny, Rosie and Janet Miller; Ruth Peterson
Front row: Helen Beghtol and Gary Peterson

His passing was very fast and the news did not travel back to Indiana very quickly.  So I thought it was be appropriate to share a little about a very sweet and kind-hearted man who had a very special place in our family.

Here is the obituary that was posted:

John Aaron Miller was born January 16, 1926 in Arvada, CO, peacefully left our world on February 21, 2013 at the age of 87.  He is survived by his wife, Elova L. Miller; his three daughters, Janet Cook, Karen Barnes, and Kimberly Lowry; his grandchildren, Arianna Nowakowski, Lucas Cook, Melissa Brewer, and Rebecca Albano. John had a rich full life. He served in the Army and was stationed in the Philippines, and Japan during WWII. After the war, he became a wonderful firefighter for the Denver Fire Department, and was a member of the Benevolent Protective Order of Elks (BPOE) in Lodge #2278 (Arvada). He was an amazing fisherman who knew pretty much every lake and river in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. He will be tremendously missed. His life will be remembered and celebrated in a private memorial ceremony; and we bet he will catch spectacular fish in the heavenly river he is now near.

If you would like to send online condolences, here is the link to Uncle Johnny's online obituary:
http://coloradocrematory.com/Obituaries

I love thinking about him fishing with Uncle Denny and Brent in heaven as well as him being reunited with his big brother and sisters.

This is Aunt Elova, myself and Uncle Johnny a few years ago at their home in Arvada.

The Murray/Miller ranch.  This picture was taken around 1968.  My cousins Michelle and Terri, myself, my sister Denise, and  my little brother, Andrew (in the red in "I don't want to be in the picture mode") are on the lane to the Miller/Murray house.  You can see the original house at the end of the lane.  My dad and his siblings spent summers here.  The house has now been torn down according to Uncle Johnny.

Back Row: Ruth Miller Peterson, Alberta "Bertie" Wyant, Walbert Wyant, Duane Wyant, Barbara Miller (married to Uncle Irwin), Rosie (?), Uncle Johnny
Center: Jerry VanLue, Joyce Wyant, Diane Wyant, Irwin Miller
Front: Janet Miller? and Gary Peterson?  Someone help me?

The Miller Siblings:  Irwin, Helen, Alberta, Ruth, Johnny in front of Irwin and Barbara's house which I believe was also located on family ranch property.  Rawson Creek was behind his house.  This was the creek that ran through Grandpa Miller's ranch and the Wyant kids played around this creek during their summer visits.

My dad's memories of Uncle John:  

Uncle John and the Wyant boys enjoyed getting into mischief together. He was more of a cousin to them than an uncle.  Uncle Johnny had what daddy describes as a western accent that was a little odd sounding toward an Indiana boy.  Grandma Miller would sing Irish/Scottish ballads that were passed on to Grandma Wyant.  Grandpa Miller had a "dug out" where he stored tools and farm implements.  The boys liked to climb down into it and cool off when it was a hot summer day.  They often slept outside in the alfalfa field together.  

The boys would build soap box derbies together and raced.  They played in Rawson Creek and dammed up a little section where they learned to swim.  Grandpa Miller rigged up a ramp so that they could cross the creek to get to the chicken house.  They would often continue walking up to Uncle Irwin's house and explore.  Uncle Irwin's wife, Barbara, knew how to make home-made root beer and ice cream.  That was a big treat that the boys always looked forward to.  One time, Uncle John and my dad broke into Uncle Irwin's surveying tools and were intrigued with a telescope that they found.  They set it up and used it to view the mountains which were about 20 miles and dreamed of sitting at the foot of the mountains.  During their summers, they would work and put up hay together on Grandpa Miller's farm.  This is where my dad learned a lot of his farm skills.

Here are a couple of maps from the Jefferson County Library showing the boundaries of the farm.

Map of the location of the Murray farm.  In the mid 1890's, the ranch was purchased by Helen Culver, Margaret Culver Murray's sister and was given to her and her Scottish immigrant husband, Alexander Murray.  After their deaths, the farm was given to their daughters, Margaret Silver Murray (married John Pierson Miller) and Rachel Culver Murray (married Henry Kerstiens).  The girls continued to live on the homestead and raised their families as well.  

Detail of the Murray/Miller farm.  The ranch area is now between Oak and Simms Streets in Arvada, Colorado.

Uncle Johnny will be missed by so many.  There will be a memorial service for him in late spring and his ashes will be scattered on the family farm.

If you'd like to send snail mail condolences, Aunt Elova's address is:

Elova Miller
10870 W. 68th Place
Arvada, Colorado 80004

Birthday Present to Myself and You

March is a bittersweet month for me.  My birthday is on the 15th of March and 10 days later in 2008, our third set of twins, Carson and Dylan Chenault, were welcomed into the family.  But right in the middle of those two dates, is a sad one.  On March 23, 1999, our family lost our family clown, Doyle Wyant.  Any of my family members will confess that he was a man who had a personality that would fill up the room.  When I was a little girl, I loved our big family celebrations at my grandparent's farm in the Beech Hills but when Uncle Doyle came home, we all had just a little more fun.  He was a storyteller, a prankster, and the God of all uncles in my eyes (sorry Uncle Duane but I'm pretty sure you'll forgive me for that!).  I hung on his every word and felt like the most important person in the world when he would kneel down to talk to me eye-to-eye . . . something I have done all my life with children - he taught me this.  There is nothing that makes a child feel more important.

Last night, my Aunt Diane, the lone girl of the Wyant brood, called me to read three letters to me from Grandpa Miller, Aunt Betty Wyant and my dad.  I cried and laughed and then as soon as we hung up, felt an immediate pang of guilt for not keeping up with this blog.  I have a lot of excuses.....my computer crashed and I couldn't find my blog site is the best one I can come up with.  But I'm resolved now to get back to the business of this site.  Since I started this blog, we've lost our Uncle Denny and our beloved cousin, his son, Brent Wyant and just a few weeks ago, Grandma Wyant's last surviving brother, Johnny Miller.  Uncle John helped me compile so much of our family history by pulling out the old family Bibles years ago.  And Brent loved reading this blog.....or at least he told me that he did.  Time to get back to it.

What better way to get started again than to start with a forgotten letter I found in one of my drawers from Uncle Doyle just a few weeks ago? Then I have a pile, and I mean a pile, of letters that Uncle Duane gave me that are written by Ruth Bobe to Uncle Doyle.  The lost art of writing letters again reaches out to the Wyants who are here to remind us of the love and richness of family that we all spring from.

In honor of Uncle Doyle and his amazing love and generosity that he extended to all of us, I'll share this letter that was written to me on July 20, 1996, a little less than three years before he died.  I'm sharing it not to build myself up because I'm fairly certain that he didn't limit his admiration to just me.....he had the special talent of making us all feel like we were his favorite even though I'm sure none of us were!

Dearest Melinda (my whole life, he called me BALINDA....I have no idea why he chose this letter to change that habit!)

Thanks for being you.  I want you to know that although you are intelligent and wise, there is something I know you don't know.  Your cousins, uncles and aunt really admire you and love you so much.  You have done a tremendous job at cultivation loving relations.  You don't know how many are "in your corner."  Something tells me I must enlighten you of this.  Anyhow, take this cash and use it however just as I'm showing you appreciation for again helping me out. 

I'll be praying for your happiness and attempting to assist you in that.  Watch it work.

Love you much,

Uncle Doyle

P.S. Thanks for helping out an old uncle.

I have absolutely no recollection of what I did that helped him but I do remember how he had a habit of slipping me and many others cash for just no reason at all.  I'm sure I did nothing but this was how he was, a giver - and not expectant of anything in return.  

My guess is that he learned this art of giving from Ruth Bobe.  One of the first letters in the pack from Uncle Duane is in her handwriting to Uncle Doyle.  Its heading says "Strictly Business."

It reads:

The last note you three boys signed was for $1200 or $400 for each of you.  As time went on, you paid some, for which I respected your efforts and conscientiousness.  When Denny and Dick began rearing their families and buying homes, I realized they were unable to pay.  In 1957, I offered and insisted on loaning Duane money to go on to O.C.C. but he refused.  Later in due fairness to him, Diane and Dwight, I bought each a bond and paid $375 for each.  I intended to let them be unknown until I was gone, but this summer Dwight needed another car, so since the bonds had matured to $500, I gave them to them since Denny and Dick never did mention the subject, I didn't say anything to them and I don't think either of the 3 did, but in case you heard and inkling over the grapevine, I want you to know the incident is a closed book from now on.  

Now for your part, really I don’t know how much you got to go to college but you have paid this much I’m sure. 

·        Oct. 1952  $60

·        Nov 1952 $80

·        Dec 1957 $33

·        Mar 1965 $100

·        1966 $30

·        June 1967 $20

·        Jan 1968 $10

·        Aug 1969 $25

If you have 4 or 5 dollars more, well and good, if you don’t please tell me and I will make up the deficit.  Your help from Feb – May 1951 and during the summer of 1956 can never be paid for.  We certainly rate all 6 of you kids as top.  So again I repeat don’t make any more payments.

P.S. Rhonda, we hope you are still getting better.

I have no idea when this was written but I do know that Ruth Bobe was generous to the Wyant kids and grandkids as if they were her own.  I’ve heard stories that things would have even been more difficult for the family had she, Grace and Nelle not been their neighbors and adopted family.  She valued education and set the bar for everyone to get one because she had also been their teacher. 

Is there any doubt that God sends people into our lives for reasons and seasons? Good thing to remember as we all go about our daily lives with others.