Another long take on old Tom

 Over the course of 78 years I’ve learned an invaluable thing: you don’t really choose your best friends; you kind of choose one another. Tom Miller was best known to many as founding father and first President of the Loveland Fishing Club, and before that a senior manager in the California Park system. But to me, he was just a best buddy. In truth, though I’d never tell him that, he was the Dad I needed since my own died too early in life. Tom himself passed away Friday, Dec. 12, at age 90, at home with Sheila, his wife of 67 years.

When I joined the club two decades ago, Tom told me: “the usual minimum requirement for membership is at least one cardiac bypass. But you’re such a fine fellow, we’ll make an exception in your case.” I’ve been trying to live up to that description ever since.

LFC's first club outing, 2001 at Lon Hagler.
That's Tom at far right, with the belly boat.

Like many of you, I have a litany of favorite Tom Miller memories. One was the day, not long after I’d joined the club, when he introduced me to a basic truth about retirement - don't get in a hurry any more, and don’t rush what you might enjoy. Early on he and I had similar feelings about some now-forgotten Larimer County issue. He asked if I wanted to go with him to a hearing about it. Still working from home part-time, I said: “yeah, sure,” assuming I could hurry back to work in an hour or so. Well, the meeting started at about 11 a.m. Tom got us to the county building about 8:30,leaving time to schmooze the secretaries and everyone else who showed up. And when the hearing was over, he asked: “Ever been to the fish hatchery in LaPorte?” 

Well, no. Turns out Tom volunteered there, as part of his lifelong obsession with all things fish. We had an unhurried, unscheduled tour of the place from his hatchery buddies. And from there we went to Tom and Sheila’s place, where I met Sheila and his old cat. I also admired Tom's antique gas trolling motor, an ancient spinning reel and the buffalo gun used back in the 19th century to kill his law officer grandpa. I then had a couple beers from Alaska, turned down an offer of a sandwich, and made it home just in time to quit for the day. Didn’t miss a damned thing important. 

Tom used his 90 years on this Earth more effectively than anyone else I’ve known. His fertile imagination lured his many friends into endless volunteer projects, local and out-of-town fishing trips, grant applications and fishing adventures involving kids. 

Anyway, if you knew Tom for long you have stories of your own. Buy me a beer and we can share favorites. Mine kept me half awake the past two nights, smiling at one memory or another. Sheila told me Tom passed away where he wanted, at home with her, and he’d have been happy with that. “He was an opinionated old goat, but that’s one of the things I liked best about him,” she said. 

Life slowed for Tom in the past few years. He had increasing problems with balance and moving around. Had to migrate from ice fishing and belly boats to trolling from his pontoon. But his mind and commitment to service was as sharp as ever. In 2023, with the club teetering near collapse with Covid-19, none of us were willing to commit to leadership of the club. Tom stepped in to become the only member in club history to serve two terms as President. (Dave Johnson will be the second, starting his second term in January, inspired by a good man’s good example.)

With the help of about a dozen fishing buddies, Tom created the Loveland Fishing Club intending to use it to fish with friends and do good for others. Though he never sought recognition, he was honored in 2013 with the Retired Senior Volunteer Program’s “Lead with Experience” Service Award. RSVP noted Tom “continues to redefine the way seniors contribute to the quality of outdoor recreation in northern Colorado.” His nomination noted: Tom’s “in-depth knowledge of public policy and fishing and hunting continue to pay remarkable benefits for seniors, youngsters and other residents of Larimer County. “

   ... Bill Prater

Tom, yours was a life well-lived. 

Bill Prater