So it isn’t every day I get to serve an Olympic Gold Medalist; there just aren’t that many of ‘em passing through Temple City these days.
So it isn’t every day I get to serve an Olympic Gold Medalist; there just aren’t that many of ‘em passing through Temple City these days.
And on a Sunday when the incredibly shrinking Los Angeles Times can’t even find its vanilla way to my doorstep and 40% of the population is determined to elect Hitler, part II; it’s therapeutic savoring the moments I get to share with people who exude class. Last week, I had a moment…and more.
Inger Miller was a member of the U.S. Women’s 4 X 100-meter Olympic relay team that took the Gold in Atlanta in 1996. And Inger’s dad, Lennox, was my dental school classmate. And, oh, by the way, Lennox won the Silver in the Men’s Olympic 100-meters in Mexico City in 1968 and the Bronze in Munich in 1972.
Back in The Day, my dad and brother and I were big-time track and field fans; and a great day for us was going to any USC dual meet. Lennox was a legendary sprinter, on scholarship from Jamaica, and USC was a track and field powerhouse. So I couldn’t believe it when I saw Lennox and I were classmates; and I can still remember getting on the phone to tell Dad Lennox said “Hi” on that very first Training Day at the USC School of Dentistry.
During the four years of dental school, I really didn’t get to know Lennox very well, aside from the always welcoming smile and the friendly small talk that helped this dental student retain some semblance of his sanity.
When we were out of school and practicing, Dr. Miller stayed close by in Pasadena; that’s when I got the chance to know Lennox a little better. The phone calls always included a dose of laughter and, of course, the sort of dialogue you’d expect from two USC football experts.
One of my early Doc Miller post-USC experiences was admittedly a little scary. During CPR training, Lennox (don’t think he ever lifted a weight) actually cracked open poor ole Resusci Annie while doing compressions; my take-away was in Annie’s place, I’d rather have the second fastest human on the planet get help…than perform bone crushing compressions…on moi.
Dr. Miller was a prosthodontist; back then, these were the restorative specialists who tackled the kind of complex cases that could make you cry in your sleep.
Lennox served me and our mutual patients, actually giving life to fading, depressed seniors, literally starving from tooth loss. Against all odds, a feeble elderly lady would typically shuffle off to Dr. Miller, only to return looking years younger; smiling, with a spring in her step and a new ensemble to go with it. I’ve always appreciated the doctors who relate to patients as family and provide empathy as part of any clinical exam; that’s why it was reassuring knowing Dr. Miller was just a phone call or a 20-minute drive away.
And I still remember the call I had with Lennox when he told me he’d been diagnosed with lung cancer. Intellectually, of course I understood…but the track fan kid in me still hoped and even believed Lennox would anchor another win.
Can’t believe it’s been 12-years since a class guy, an elite athlete, and gifted colleague who’d never taken a puff, passed from lung cancer.
First time I met Inger was at a Pasadena Chamber breakfast; almost tripped over my own feet introducing myself. I shared the same message I delivered to Inger’s dad back in 1996, “Finally a GOLD medal in the family!”
Truth is Doc Miller was a Gold Medal winner for all of his way too brief 58-years. And when it comes to being a class act, the apple doesn’t fall anywhere but right next to the tree.
