Hazel Miller on a life of singing as she enters

Since she was in third grade, Hazel Miller knew she would be a singer. The legendary Colorado vocalist and Arvada resident was inducted into the state’s Music Hall of Fame on June 10, capping an exceptional career that has taken her around the world and earned her a place in the hearts of thousands.

Miller, the fifth of seven children, was born in Louisville, Kentucky. Her mother and father were guarded, yet exceptional singers in their own rights.

When Miller was in third grade, a priest at her school named Samuel Viani asked her to join the eighth graders for a Christmas song — a prospect that, to Miller’s knowledge, had never been done. Even at an early age, Miller’s talent was undeniable.

“After that, I knew,” Miller said. “When you’re the fifth of seven children, you’re Joanne’s sister; you’re Carol’s sister; you’re Eddie’s sister. All of a sudden, everyone knew my name. I told my mother I was going to be a singer. She said ‘OK, as long as you go to school.’”

That she did. Things were lean in the Miller household with her mother raising the family on a $150 per week salary, but their tight-knit bond made up for that.

Miller said she wasn’t particularly aware of social class

Colorado Music Hall of Fame

By Rylee Dunn, Colorado Community Media

before she transitioned from a parochial Catholic school to a public school. There, she faced bullying but was undeterred. “I didn’t know I was broke until I got to public school, and these girls… they let me know in no uncertain terms that I’m from the projects,” she said.

Early career

After high school, Miller enrolled at the University of Louisville and sang in bars on weekends. Newly divorced and with a newborn baby boy in tow, she biked with her son to school, singing all the while. Following the birth of her second son, she changed her focus to music, with the support of her family.

“I went to work at the best nightclub in Louisville, Joe’s Bomb Room,” she said. “I started making real money — $400 a week — and I worked from Thursday to Sunday. My mother treated me like I was

Aretha Franklin. She said, ‘Go do this, we’ll watch the kids.’ I have never known a time where my family didn’t support me.”

She built a strong following in Kentucky but was beginning to outgrow her hometown.

In 1982, Miller recorded the Louisville anthem “Louisville, Look What We Can Do,” which brought her further local acclaim. Still, her sights began to drift elsewhere.

Dana Marsh, Miller’s longtime keyboardist, moved to Colorado in 1982 and stayed in touch with her, later flying back to Louisville for shows periodically.

“I kept telling her about Colorado,” Marsh said. “I said, ‘There’s no one out here like you. I think you would really like Colorado, and they would love you.’”

In 1984, Miller packed up a U-Haul with her belongings, her two sons, a friend’s son she was taking care of and a friend who was running from her husband.

“I made the four of them a promise; ‘No one will ever live in our house,’” she said. “No one will ever come between us.’ That was that, and I’ve been happily single for 43 years.”

From Kentucky to Colorado

Miller’s sights were set on the bright lights of Los Angeles, but her van had other plans.

Just inside Colorado’s borders, her U-Haul broke down. She Hook the speedbump as a sign, and has lived in the Centennial State ever since.

“To be honest with you, if I’d gotten to L.A., I’d probably have had to go home,” she said. “But God put me in Colorado. And I have had nothing but success.”

Without many local connections besides Marsh, she struggled to gain a foothold in the

Denver scene at first. Then, she began sitting in at the fabled El Chapultepec every Saturday night, and her fortunes began to change.

“People like (fellow Colorado Music Hall of Famer Chris Daniels) took me under his wing,” she said. “There were other guys who worked at the Pec, they would tell me about who was looking for a singer. It was a lot of sitting in for no money, it was a lot of hanging out, trying to let people know who I was.”

Luckily for Miller, her generational voice left a lasting impression. El Chapultepec’s owner hired her to sing with the house band every Sunday night. After a few years of dues-paying, she had formed her own band in 1988, and, in her words, “was rollin’ and never looked back.”

‘Beloved by the people of Colorado’

One of Miller’s first bands, called Rich Relations, earned a reputation in the local scene and was hired to do a Department of Defense tour in the Far East. Her backing band at the time was entirely white, leading to their infamous name change.

“We walked out on stage one night in Korea,” she said. “I said, ‘Hi we are Hazel Miller,’ and these Black soldiers yelled, ‘And the Caucasians!’”

As she tells it, the base broke out in raucous laughter, prompting her to change the name of her band to Hazel Miller and the Caucasians. She changed the band’s name to Hazel Miller and The Collective in the 2000s.

She had yet to gain a larger audience outside of Colorado by the 1990s. That would change after a fortuitous meeting with one of Colorado’s top bands of the era; Big Head Todd and The Monsters.

“We had first seen Hazel at JJ McCabe’s when we were students at Boulder in the ’80s,” Todd Park Mohr, Big Head Todd’s front man, said. “We thought she was a soul diva and she knew about music we did not. We invited her to sing on a track called ‘Wearing Only Flowers’ in 1995.”

“Wearing Only Flowers” was released on The Monster’s 1994 album “Stratagem.” Soon after, Miller and Big Head Todd hit the road together.

At first, she just sang backups on the one song but felt like her salary outweighed her contributions to the band. Little by little, Mohr began to incorporate her into more songs.

Mohr said his favorite performances with Miller have been their stops at Red Rocks over the years.

“There are usually some over-the-top garments involved,” Mohr said, “She just goes for it in every way and people lose their minds hearing and watching her energy and sincerity.”

Fittingly, Miller and Big Head Todd and The Monsters were inducted into the Colorado Music Hall of Fame together on June 10, at their sold-out Red Rocks show.

Karen Radman, the Colorado Music Hall of Fame’s executive director, said that Miller is being honored for her solo work and collaborations with The Monsters, and added that she has been crucial to spreading Colorado music across the globe.

“(Miller) really is seen as one of our key female artists,” Radman said. “When we looked towards her as an artist to honor and celebrate with Hall of Famer status, it was the work that she’s done here and the impact that she’s made in Colorado music, but also to bring that Colorado music and bring that Colorado artistry to other places in the world.”

Miller toured with The Monsters until the birth of her granddaughter in 2001, when she decided to spend more time with her family. Nevertheless, the pair’s collaboration has continued throughout the years.

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Hazel Miller

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“We have a close relationship beyond music and have been through a lot together over the years,” Mohr recalled.

Since retiring from touring, she has become one of Colorado’s most celebrated acts. She plays all over the state, always retaining the same energy and charisma which has defined her career.

At Winter Park Jazz one year, Miller sang with one of her heroes; Dianne Reeves, who she considers to be the best jazz singer of their generation.

When asked about Miller, Reeves raved about her nowfellow Hall of Famer, describing her as “our precious treasure.”

“Hazel Miller is a consummate artist beloved by the people of Colorado,” Reeves said. “Over the years she has consistently brought joy, healing and celebration to us all. Hazel has always been and still remains to be a genuinely loving and caring human being.”

A mentor for young musicians

In recent years, Miller has helped several young Colorado artists get their start, including 20 Hands High, Julia Kirkwood and Blankslate. She said she wanted to be the role model for others that she never had. In her mentorship, Miller channels another one of her inspirations; Bonnie Raitt.

“I want to be like Bonnie (Raitt),” she said. “She resurrected Ruth Brown when (Brown’s) record company dropped her; Bonnie started bringing her on tour. That’s what I want to be to these young kids. These kids call me, ‘Miss Miller, would you come mentor my band?’

“And I say, ‘Well, I’ve got to come see you first, make sure you’re doing something cool,’” she continued.

One of her protégés, Chad Wooten, the front man of country act 20 Hands High, said Miller discovered him in a karaoke bar in Morrison. She told Wooten to form a band and before long, he had taken her advice.

“She said, ‘A voice like yours needs to be on stage,’” he recalled. “She’s a selfless shining light who has been enough to mentor me, as I had zero experience with a band, playing out live, booking. She loves to see others succeed; everyone in every music scene and genre could learn from her.”

Miller said that she especially hopes to mentor young female musicians, who she believes are often undervalued in the music community.

“We get the short end of the stick,” she said. “They play, they sing, they write. I didn’t know how to do any of that. Nobody ever said, ‘You can write your own song.’ Nobody ever said, ‘You can start your own band.’ I started my band because I was tired of getting ripped off.”

‘If I die on stage, I’ll die happy’

While she doesn’t have any regrets from her career, one area that brings Miller sadness is that she has never played for a predominantly Black crowd.

“I love my audiences because they don’t see me as being Black, they just see me as the band they came out to see,” she said. “The only thing that disappoints me - I have never had a Black audience. I can usually count Black people on one hand at my shows. I can go see a Black band, and they’ll have all these people there, and they’ll know me, but they don’t come to my shows,” she continued. “I don’t worry about it anymore, but it does hurt. It’ll never stop hurting.”

Miller recently turned 70 but has no plans to slow down.

“I don’t know how to give it up. In all honesty, if I die on stage, I’ll die happy,” she said.

All in all, her career has taken her around the globe, bringing the fifth of seven children from Louisville, Kentucky to stages massive and modest. The most important accomplishment from her career, she says, is that she was able to give her children and grandchildren opportunities that she was never afforded.

“My job allowed me to give my boys things that I never had,” she said. “I have been to places that I dreamed of, and I got to see them because I was there singing. I woke up one morning and looked out the bathroom window at Mount Fuji. It was unbelievable — there was snow on it!”. Editor’s note: This article is powered by COLab, the Colorado News Collaborative. It has been edited for space.

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