Guardians of Sands and Sea

It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The skies are clear and blue, a light breeze gently blows and the sun shines brightly as Mrs. Jeanie Miller welcomes a guest into her lovely home in Naples.

As lemonade and banana walnut bread are graciously served, they begin to discuss her late husband, Roy “Bunny” Miller, Jr.

Mrs. Miller, like the home itself, radiates warmth and charm. She smiles easily and often, putting her guest instantly at ease.

Soon, she is joined by her daughter in-law, April Rogers Miller, equally warm and friendly.

Together, they will try to paint a portrait of this very special man.

Jeanie Miller begins the conversation by describing her husband’s smile, “He just lit up and his eyes smiled along with his face. Everybody used to say they loved his smile.”

Then, the conversation turns to his long career as a Long Beach lifeguard. His daughter in-law speaks of the inherent risk involved, “It’s serious work, not only watching out for people, you have to have somebody watching your back, as well,” concluding, “It’s trauma bonding. You really have to have a heroic heart.”

As cups and plates are cleared away, Jeanie Miller says,

“It was a fraternity back then, the deepest of friendships. You had to be truly dedicated and embrace being a lifeguard. In Bunny’s days, it was their life. It was a very honorable profession. It still is, really. There was a lot of respect for the lifeguards.”

She continues, “Bunny was the type who wasn’t out front, he did all the behind the scenes work,” a slight trace of pride in her voice.

Soon, she chuckles recalling his personality. “He was kinda quiet until you got him to start. He had a wry sense of humor, these one liners and that was it.”

To truly understand Bunny, however, one must understand the Miller legacy in the Long Beach aquatic community.

His father, Roy “Dutch” Miller served as Captain of the Long Beach Lifeguard Services (LBLS) for 44 years, until retiring in 1966.

His uncle, Vic Miller was a lieutenant in LBLS, retiring in 1968, with 47 years of service.

Vic’s son, Richard “Dick” Miller, became chief of LBLS, in 1974, serving 12 years before becoming Long Beach’s Manager of Beaches and Marinas, retiring in 1998, with 38 years of service.

Jeanie Miller then begins to fill in key points in Mr. Miller’s story.

Roy “Bunny” Miller, Jr., was born on Easter, 1928, hence his nickname.

They were married for nearly 65 years and had three children, Teri, Tami and Jim, respectively.

Mr. Miller passed away last November, at age 92. He had a 35-year career with the Long Beach Lifeguard Services, including 25 years as Skipper of Rescue Boat #4.

Modestly, Mrs. Miller states, “It was an interesting life.”

Soon, Jeanie Miller and her daughter in-law share more about this man: he enjoyed football, cigars and, “absolutely loved westerns.”

A previous interview with their daughter, Teri, yielded yet more details about him.

“He had a gift using his hands. He had a green thumb, was a good cook, loved seafood, steamed clams (especially), loved a good steak and loved to tinker with materials and supplies.”

Mrs. Miller recounts more stories, such as the influence her father in-law had on Bunny’s character. Once, for example, Dutch Miller refused to enter the famed Jonathan Club due to discrimination against a close friend, the Hawaiian legend, Duke Kahanamoku.

A second story involves another “Duke,” the actor John Wayne, who used to babysit her husband when he was a child.

Jeanie Miller continues, describing Bunny’s character.

“He and his father were very active with the Long Beach Elks Lodge, too, including the Special Olympics.”

Their daughter, Tami, participated in the Special Olympics as a swimmer.

She was born with severe disabilities, including spastic, cerebral palsy.

Then, she quietly confides, “At night is when I miss him most.”

The tender moment soon passes and she smiles again when recalling their famous tailgate parties.

Both ladies are UCLA grads and dyed in the wool Bruins.

Laughter erupts in the room when she declares, “We agreed to disagree when SC and UCLA played each other. Canal jumps for the losers!”

Stories begin to emerge, piling on one another, each adding more insight and meaning to Bunny’s personality, his values and the changes in society he lived to witness.

The latter topic strikes a chord and the mood becomes a little subdued. “There was just a different feeling… the world is different (now).”

Bunny Miller, for one, did not like the progress in technology or the pace of today’s life.

“He was sad about the changes; they even got rid of things like cursive writing and woodshop in schools.”

The conversation turns again, to how they met.

Mrs. Miller smiles as she recounts the bittersweet twist of fate that would introduce her to this man, the love of her life, the father of her children.

As fate would have it, her father, Stanley “Bud” DuBruck began a friendship with Dutch and Bunny during the house construction period.

Prior to meeting the Millers, however, DuBruck had been paralyzed in a horse riding accident, an injury which forced his family from their home in the valley, to Long Beach, where some relatives already lived.

The two eventually met and began dating after Bunny’s mother, Sylvia, suggested he ask her out in 1954, just after Thanksgiving. They were married on January 26, 1956.

In the ensuing years, as their family grew, neighbors would simply refer to the family’s home as, “Miller’s Madhouse.” She laughs as she says, “It’s because there was always something going on!”

After 70 years, the home has been the gathering spot for all types of occasions. There are thousands of stories of love, laughter and lasting friendship in this home, revealing a different era, when people actually valued spending time together, when they sat out and still greeted one another, rather than obsessed over cell phones, video games and social media.

Moreover, the house reveals Bunny was a man with the sort of applied, handyman skills and patience rarely found among people today.

She describes her husband to a guest, “He was fair, loyal, dedicated, humble and an all-around good guy.”

She adds, “If you had Bunny as a friend, you couldn’t ask for a better friend; very loyal. There was a whole different feeling of camaraderie then.”

However, an earlier question lingers in the air, heavy and seemingly unanswered.

“What has changed; what have we lost?”

Jeanie answers first.

“We’ve lost the personal contact, the feeling (that once existed). It fostered a sense of community, especially in a water community.”

April Rogers Miller goes a step further, “The biggest factor, it’s got to be the income. There’s no time for extra things. You can’t! I just think the financial pressure on a couple, it’s so debilitating Can you even afford to be married … to start a family? In addition to technology, it’s the inflation. It was a simpler time then.”

She ends with the observation, “Bigger isn’t always better. Progress isn’t linear. We have to circle back.”

The visit ends.

The conversation comes back to Bunny Miller and what he’d want for her.

“For me to enjoy life, to sit outside still, to continue going to Thursday night parties, to keep in touch with the old guard of the lifeguards. He wouldn’t want me to stay at home doing nothing.”

They part ways, smiling, but not before hugging and promising to stay in touch.

Then, their guest steps out, into a beautiful Sunday afternoon, with skies still blue and clear, as a breeze gently blows. The sun shines brightly upon a smiling face, a portrait of Bunny Miller etched in the mind’s eye.