Know Your Neighbor: Connie and Jim Miles of Highland
There are labels for those who have lost a husband, wife or parents; they are referenced as widows, widowers or orphans. There is no tag for parents who have had to bury a child.
Obviously, the devastation is unfathomable. Jim and Connie Miles of Highland are all too familiar with the soul-crushing effects after having their 11-year-old daughter, Marcia, die of cancer on Aug. 3, 1982.
Jim came into this world on June 30, 1943 in Belleville. He was the middle child of one older, and one younger, sister of James Jr. and Ida Miles. He fondly recalls his mother referencing him as “my favorite son.”
As a youngster, shooting marbles was his favorite pastime. Additionally, he had a passion for the pigeons he raised and showed in competitions. Jim said his dad taught him respect and the importance of not repeating mistakes.
He graduated from Highland High School in 1962 and credits his teacher, Miss Ragsdale, for creating in him an appreciation of speech and English. Because his father never verbalized his emotions to him, Jim said he also learned the value and necessity of telling your children, “I love you.”
Connie was born Sept. 7, 1949, in Los Angeles to Justin and Geneva Neuenschwander. She was the second eldest of four girls and spent her time playing outside with siblings and cousins. With an affinity for oil painting, her first works included a snow-covered church on a hill and an adobe hut with people standing by a fire pit.
When she was 13, she inadvertently dove head first into the shallow end of a swimming pool.
“It was by the grace of God I was not paralyzed,” emphasized Connie.
Though her family did not actively participate in church, Connie’s first eight years of education was spent in Catholic school being taught by nuns still wearing habits.
She graduated from Hillsboro High School and had a special interest in history. Without malice, Connie said “my parents taught me what not to be.”
Jim enlisted in the U.S. Navy from 1962 through 1966 as a Navy Radar an RD3. “Being in the Navy brought good and bad times,” recalls Jim. “It taught me honor and respect.” During an uprising in Santa Domingo while on a secret mission with five to six hundred soldiers on board, Jim remembers two Marines having been killed in action.
Death, marriage and child birth
One night after having gone ashore for a hamburger, Jim was requesting permission to come aboard the ship. As he did, a fellow soldier announced “that’s him sir.” Jim was then taken aside and taken to the chaplain’s quarters only to be informed his father had passed away due to suicide. Jim said his comrades took up a collection to give him the funds to return home for the funeral services.
While home on leave in 1965, Jim was introduced to Connie by his grandfather. They chatted for a while over the wringer washer and then he invited her to accompany him to Brown’s A & W Root Beer. Both acknowledged they were impressed by the good looks of the other. Romance blossomed and they dated for two years until Jim was honorably discharged. They married June 10, 1967.
In 1968 their firstborn son, James the fourth, was born, followed two-plus years later by daughter, Marcia. In 1973, their family was completed with the birth of son, Kevin. So they thought. In October 1981, Marcia was diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma.
RMS is an aggressive and highly malignant form of cancer that develops from skeletal muscle cells that failed to fully differentiate. It is generally considered to be a disease of childhood, as the vast majority of cases occur in those below the age of 18. It is commonly described as one of the small, round, blue cell tumors of childhood due to its appearance. Despite being a relatively rare cancer, it accounts for approximately 40% of recorded soft tissue sarcomas.
Before she passed away eight months later on Aug. 3, 1982, young Marcia tried to comfort her parents with these words: “I’m not afraid to die. But I am afraid how you will deal with it.”
Connie and Jim completely credit God and His people with being able to cope with the loss of their precious daughter.
“We felt like we were being carried by God, like Footprints in the Sand,” said Connie.
Prior to Marcia’s illness and death, Connie owned and operated the Flower and Gift Shop and the couple also ran Miles Anderson Shelter Care. Jim was employed by Chicago North Western Railroad. But they wanted to do more and perhaps help other children, and their families, who had been stricken with cancer.
Connie, Jim begin journey with His Kids
In 1982, 38 years ago, they embarked on His Kids. The mission is to decrease the devastation of childhood cancer in families through support programs, emotional health services and emergency assistance.
His Kids website states: “We understand the unfortunate reality of childhood cancer and believe that positive outcomes are possible within that reality. We believe that diagnosis of childhood cancer is permanently life-changing for the entire family. For this reason, service should continue from diagnosis, throughout treatment, and beyond.”
But the Miles did not stop there. They also adopted two children and fostered many others. While creating a very large, blended family, they remembered to correct the mistakes made by their parents. They have showered all the children equally with love and acceptance in a Spiritual atmosphere.
On their family room wall hangs a large photograph of their extended family, which includes photos of those not able to be present, superimposed. Their family includes children, Jim, Kevin, Tina, Dawn and Marcia; grandchildren, Tori, Caiti, Kaiden, Avery, Brandon, Josh, Jesse, Lucas, Dylan and Carson; and great-grandchildren, Reagan, Lucas, Glenn, James, Archer, Kayleigh, Kali and Hayden. A baby boy, Kannon, died in infancy.
A wooden sign hangs above the massive photo which reads: “All Because Two People Fell in Love.”