The Walworthians: Miller, Ruth L.

The Walworthians: Miller, Ruth L.

A collection of telephone interviews published in the Wayne County STAR Newspaper and Wayne County MAIL Newspaper, 1994-209

by Kate Chamberlin

Ruth L. Miller, Grandma

June 19, 1996

Ruth L. Miller is one of the people in our neighborhood.

She grew up in West Brighton and attended   Monroe High School until her parents moved to a farm in Webster.

Ruth met her husband, Ralph, when he hired on as a tenant who helped with the farm work. It must have been true love, because last March 15th they celebrated their 53rd wedding anniversary.

About 40 years ago, they moved to their 21-acre farm on Ontario Center Road. It used to be part of the larger Tabor farm.

It had cherry and pear trees on it, but Ralph wanted to raise pigs, cows and the grain to feed them. The orchard was cut down to make room for his new venture.

Farming didn’t pay all the bills so Ralph delivered feed for Anna B. Youngs’ Feed Mill until he began working at Garlock. His tenure at Garlock lasted over 30 years.

Ruth and Ralph have five children: Joyce Clark, Beverly, Leona Kirby, Jean Gardner and Steve.

“I’ve been real lucky with my kids,” Ruth said proudly. “They never got into any serious trouble while they were growing up in Walworth.”

Each year in the fall, Ruth makes evergreen wreaths to sell at the road side stand next to her driveway. She also puts out pumpkins grown in her back field and sometimes, home-made goodies.

I remember the first time I took my young sons over to let them choose their own pumpkins. We were standing in the yard looking around. We heard a loud putt-putt-chugg before we saw what made the sound.

Ralph was driving an old tractor up the lane from the east field. As he got closer, we noticed something small and white on his lap.

It was Peachy, a little white poodle that went everywhere with him. Ruth said that it was Peachy’s tractor. It didn’t go anywhere without Peachy at the wheel.

Years later, I was standing at the end of Orchard Street listening to the Festival in the Park Parade pass. I heard an old Putt-putt-chug pas and a hearty voice holler, “Hi, Kate. It’s Grandma Miller!”

Peachy had been gone a long time, but his tractor still chugs on. Ruth assured me she’ll be driving it in the parade this year, too.

Thirteen years ago Ruth and I bowled on the same team in the Thursday Morning Women’s League. The enthusiasm she put into bowling is typical of her zest for doing so many things.

She became my Cub Scout Den’s adopted grandmother. We took cookies to her on holidays and sang Christmas carols in her kitchen.

She came to our pack meetings and bid on goodies at the annual Scout Auction.

One year my husband and Grandma Miller vied back and forth on a cake until Dave had to pay almost $20 for it. He surprised her by giving her the cake.

Ruth hasn’t let last year’s mild stroke slow her down. She is warm, friendly and caring with strong feelings and out-spoken thoughts. For example, she feels that the Town Hall has too much unused space in it.

“At first, I thought they were going to put another room or floor in,” she said referring to the large vaulted ceiling of the entrance hall. “And, they said they’d fix up a room for us Senior Citizens to use. That kitchen across the hall from the big room is too dinky for our pot luck suppers!”

I promised Ruth I wouldn’t print the story she told me about a mouse running up her pant leg, so the next time you see her, ask her about it.

Thank you, Ruth Miller. You are a Walworthian with the accent on worth.