Char Miller's Papers: So You Want to Be a Forester...

By Sarah Alger, Processing Archivist, 

Trinity University Special Collections and Archives

Over the past six months, I have learned a lot from Dr. Char Miller. I’ve reviewed his research, studied his syllabi, skimmed numerous articles he both wrote and is quoted in, and puzzled over countless photographs and letters. No, he was not ever my professor – although I would have loved to take one of his classes. Instead, my knowledge comes from the records Dr. Miller donated to Trinity University's Special Collections and Archives a few years ago.  These records include coverage of his time on Trinity’s History and Urban Studies faculty from 1981-2009.

Dr. Char Miller

Going through Dr. Miller’s records was overwhelming at times. Forty bankers’ boxes of paper is a significant amount to sort through. Whenever I came across something that caught my eye, the frantic sorting stopped and for a moment I was lost in a comic book version of the story of Hanukkah, an interview with a woman who escaped the Germans’ invasion of Romania in 1940, or a particularly funny letter from a long ago friend. 

In late November 1951, Frank L. Miller III and his wife, Helen, welcomed their fourth child, and first boy, into the world. Following in the footsteps of Millers previously, they named their son Franklin Lubbock Miller IV. However, the Millers, in order to avoid one more Frank around the house, came up with the nickname Char, which means ‘four’ in Hindi. 

Miller kept meticulous notes on all of his work, with multiple folders labeled and organized according to Miller’s own system. Countless newspaper clippings, email printouts and hand written notes fill his research files. I worked hard to help ensure that Dr. Miller’s system remained intact, while developing a comprehensible and accessible hierarchy for potential researchers. 

Within Dr. Miller’s records, there is substantial information about the great Gifford Pinchot, the first Chief of the US Forest Service and the evolution of the study of forestry. Dr. Miller wrote and edited many articles for the Journal of Forestry, Forest Magazine Review, and Society of American Foresters. Additionally, Miller’s dissertation research looked at the Bingham family: Hiram I, II, III, Alfred and Stephen. The first generations were some of the pioneer Christian missionaries to the Hawai’ian islands, while the latter Bingham spent time as a fugitive in Paris. 

Dr. Miller was not only interested in other families, like the Binghams, but his own as well. His records contain extensive genealogical materials on both the Miller family and his in-laws, the Lipsetts. Dr. Miller’s father, Frank L. Miller III, served at Kelley Air Field base during World War II. When Miller III passed away, Miller IV inherited and organized all of his personal effects. For a good snapshot on the daily life of a local Texas soldier during WWII, Miller III’s papers provide much insight.

Mitzi Lipsett and Heinz in Israel

Dr. Miller is most known at Trinity for his work in the history and environmental studies departments, however his interests extend far beyond that. In addition to his academic endeavors, Dr. Miller was an active member of the San Antonio community. He wrote multiple opinion pieces and is quoted in articles in local San Antonio publications as well as some international periodicals. He even ran for the board for the Alamo Heights Independent School District. Additionally, Dr. Miller and his wife, Judi helped start the Beth Am Congregation. Consequently, a number of essays and research within the records pertain to the Jewish faith. 

Another hidden gem in the collection includes Dr. Miller’s interview with his wife’s step-grandmother, Mitzi Lipsett, and Mizti’s brother, Artur. There are some amazing photographs from this time in the mixed media collection. 

Peter Sobel and Nurse Sinara in Rumania (sic)

Cypress, 1947

Sifting through Dr. Miller’s records taught me a great deal – most of it was totally unexpected. If you are curious about the history of forestry, or the community of San Antonio from the past thirty years, Dr. Miller’s records provide a multitude of research opportunities. I encourage you to peruse our finding aid or stop by during reading room hours to learn more about what this unique collection has to offer.

The Paul Baker Experience: Crossing the Finish Line

“The time has come” the walrus said “to wrap this thing up; you’re not even a student anymore.” Well…it was something like that. I wasn’t really listening.

The completion of the Great Process Paul’s Papers Project has mirrored my exit from Trinity. Each time I say goodbye, it turns out there’s an opportunity or responsibility that keeps me on campus a little bit longer, and it’s been that way with Professor Baker. Trying to make the collection as sensible, orderly, and lasting as possible has meant going back and making little changes, not quite letting go. But now our days are numbered. I project that Paul’s papers will be processed post haste just as my time at Trinity (and in Texas) trickles from tide to tiny tributary before it terminates. I’m going to miss it of course. All of it. Working in the archives for four years has given me a special insight into the history of our institution. I consider all of the personalities preserved here my intellectual ancestors, and I have fit myself and everyone I’ve ever met at Trinity into the fabric of our collective story. 

Hanging out with Paul Baker has only reinforced this feeling. The plans, notes, and photographs of the first Ruth Taylor Theatre, the barely recognizable old Attic theatre space, the dressing rooms with their familiar concrete walls and forever-worn out lighted mirrors—these look like home to me. Even in the records from Baylor and the Dallas Theater Center, it’s easy to trace the Baker influence as it made its way toward Trinity. As usual, I find the collection’s photographs most compelling and exciting. Those pictures of Professor Baker and Charles Laughton that thrilled my little heart at the beginning of the project are still there of course, along with an unidentified photograph that I am determined is of Katharine Hepburn. My favorites, however, are pictures of a 1946 production of The Skin of Our Teeth, the first play directed by Professor Baker after his return from serving in WWII. They are beautiful and reminded me of what a wonderful time I had in Trinity’s 2014 production of the same play. It’s important to me that they be preserved and seen. 

Then there’s one more reason I’m so fortunate to be closing my time here with Paul Baker. In the first week of August when I start my internship for the Actors Theatre of Louisville, I’m going to be officially really and truly untethered from Trinity, from my cherished faculty, the theatre department, and the archives. I’m hopeful that my studies of our theatrical and educational past will arm me for my future, that I will be able to embody the tirelessness, passion, and stubbornness so clearly visible in the remnants of Paul Baker—my intellectual ancestor. 

There’s not much time left here for me, Trin-Trin, but Professor Baker will be here and available to you for years and years to come. I recommend you get lost down in the archives once or twice before the time comes for you to untether.

Don’t let these humble boxes fool you. #yesfilter

1960s photograph of actresses in the stage right dressing room of Trinity University’s Theatre One

--Kate Cuellar, Class of 2015