MY FATHER’S STORY looked at him sadly as I understood enough English to know what
Copyright Mark Miller
As
a son my relationship with
my Dad has been amazing. I was asked recently to share my father’s incredible story. I would say that my father’s story is somewhere between the movies “Slumdog Millionaire” and “The Lion.”
he had meant. I knew I could not do as he asked so I shook my head and said “No home, no family”. He asked me where I was from and I told him Jamshedpur for that was where Mrs. Miller lived and that was the last city name I could remember. The look of shock ran across the man’s face when I told him where I had traveled from. His eyes widened as he said “Good God that’s thousands of miles away!” A series of emotions played across the man`s face and then finally he asked “What is your name lad?” I
I named the book I am presently
told him Joseph. He replied “My name is Nelson Taylor”. Then he
writing about my dear father’s life -
squared his jaw and said “Right Joseph, you had better come with me”. He reached out his hand. I looked
Who am I
at his outstretched fingers and then
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raised my eyes to his fac e. He didn’t
Excerpt I am happy to
look angry or like he wanted to do me
share with you as a
harm. He grabbed my hand and led me
preview in our Informed
back to the Air Force barracks. Nelson
People magazine.
was my saviour and I know I would not
One morning, I hap-
be alive today if it was not for this
pened to be running
man.” - Mark Miller
towards
VP of Communications
a
block
of
Big Media USA
buildings that belonged to the Royal Air Force. As I got closer to one of the building`s I could see a service man sitting outside holding a football (soccer ball). He wore a RAF uniform and appeared slim, even frail as he sat there turning the ball around in his hands. As I approached, he looked up at me with a smile on his face and asked “Play ball?” I nodded and he
placed the ball on the ground and kicked it towards me. I had nev-
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er kicked a football in my life. I was barefoot and had not owned a pair of shoes since living with the Sisters at the orphanage. After we played for a little while, the service man offered me some chocolate and sweets. I grabbed them hungrily and ate them on the spot. He must have enjoyed my company as we carried on passing the football back and forth for a few hours. I remember laughing as I chased after the ball. This was the longest positive human interaction I’d had in six years. Finally, as the sun started to head west, the serviceman picked up the ball and said to me “Well you’d better run along home now”. I
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Mark Miller
