by Jean Havrilla
The pain that is felt in the hearts of adult children following the unexpected death of a loving mother is dulled somewhat by memories of the loving person she was and the beautiful life she lived. My mother, Roberta Douglas (Miller), passed away quietly on December 27, 2003, in the hospital in Newark, N.J. following a brief but devastating battle with pneumonia brought on by a virulent strain of influenza which attacked her immune system, which, in turn, had been weakened by two cardiac arrests, worsening adult-onset diabetes and the aftereffects of complicated pituitary surgery during the 1990s. Family members and friends shared remembrances of her from many different perspectives during a memorial service in Washington, D.C. on January 4, 2004. Among the impressive and moving speakers who shared their memories were ACB past presidents Dr. Otis Stephens and LeRoy Saunders, Dr. Bud Keith, Janiece Petersen, Billie Jean Keith and former ACB executive director and surviving spouse Oral Miller.
Roberta Douglas was always on the move and planning what she would do next, usually to assist someone else — a blind friend, a senior citizen, one of her children or one of her grandchildren. Her father was a career Navy officer, so she spent most of her growing-up years in or near naval installations (such as the Brooklyn Navy Yard). After graduating from high school in Princeton, N.J., she attended Wilson College in Chambersburg, Pa., and soon thereafter started her family of four children while her husband was completing the required military service of that time.
In the 1970s and following her divorce, she moved to the Washington, D.C. area and undertook the brazen and primary support of her children, all of whom were still in school at some point. Her belief that blind and visually impaired people know best what their needs are was demonstrated vividly in the late 1970s when top staff at the National Arboretum were debating whether and how to repair the famous braille trail, which had been severely damaged by vandals. Roberta, who was then on the staff, suggested, “Let’s ask the blind and visually impaired people themselves” — and she did by contacting the D.C. Council of the Blind. While speaking at that organization’s meeting, she met two tall men named Durward McDaniel and Oral Miller. The next year, Durward persuaded her to come to work as the office manager for the ACB national office, and a few years later she and Oral Miller were married. Her years working for ACB as office manager and then fundraising director were some of the best and some of the toughest — burgeoning membership, rapidly growing conventions, newly instituted leadership training and legislative workshops, greatly increased governmental and legal advocacy services followed by great drops in ACB income, staff layoffs and furloughs, severe salary cuts, obtaining loans for ACB from family members and affiliates, operating the office with only three staff members and conducting varied fundraising activities before reaching the light at the end of the tunnel in the form of financial recovery by ACB in the early 1990s.
After the financial recovery was well under way, Roberta left ACB employment to accept the position as executive director of the Metropolitan Washington Ear, the leading-edge radio reading service in the national capital area. During the last seven or eight years of active employment, she served as information specialist and outreach facilitator for Iona Senior Services, one of the leading agencies providing services to senior citizens in the Washington, D.C. area. However, following technical retirement from that position, she stayed as active as ever (if not more so) doing volunteer work in both the senior and visually impaired worlds. Her interest in both worlds came together, for example, through service as the coordinator of Iona’s low-vision support group and as co-chairperson of Iona’s Community Advisory Council. Note that this list of activities over the last 20 years of her working career did not mention the countless hours she spent as a volunteer helping Oral Miller in his advocacy of sports opportunities for blind and visually impaired people through the U.S. Association of Blind Athletes and other organizations.
Roberta Douglas loved flowers, beautiful plants, her two Scottish terriers and a rescued hearing dog, and, above all, her six grandchildren. At the time the first one was a baby, she said, in response to my question, that she was not yet prepared to be referred to as grandmother and preferred instead to be referred to as “babushka” — the Russian word for grandmother, because she had just returned from a trip to Russia with Oral. As her grandchildren learned to talk, they shortened that name to “Bushka.” Oral, who often gives nicknames to friends, referred to Roberta’s grandchildren thereafter as the “bushkins,” and during Roberta’s memorial service the college-aged grandson who delivered the remembrances for the other grandchildren referred to himself as the “spokesman for the bushkins.”
As the grandchildren progressed through childhood, she introduced them to educational experiences which delighted them — such as their first trips on an airplane or on a train. As each grandchild graduated or neared high school graduation and in her desire to give them an educational or cultural experience which they would always remember, she took each on an international trip as a traveling companion while Oral attended “dull meetings” in cities such as Amsterdam, Cairo, Madrid and Cologne. During the memorial service for Roberta, her children recalled her active life, never-ending list of things to be done, unique glasses and clothing outfits, love of flowers and plants, but ended their remembrances with what they called Roberta’s Daily Rules — the last of which said, “Never end a day without petting a Scottie.” As the oldest of her four children and as the mother of five of her grandchildren, my pain in losing her is dulled somewhat by these and many other remembrances.
Memorial donations may be sent to the ACB national office.