I am a yankee who loves southerners. and Nancy Miller in particular. I was once told that when a southerner says, “Bless Your Heart,” he or she doesn’t always mean it. This would not be true of Nancy who I worked with for 30 years, and for several years on a daily basis. She was as sincere as they come and when I saw her coming she always had a smile on her face. Nancy blessed my heart. Bless hers.

Dick Weiss

I met Nancy through a mutual friend, Joy, and have to say that I was delighted to realize that she was as charming and delightful in person as she was in her columns. Her warm Southern smile and stories were absolutely unbeatable for keeping parties hopping. She had a fantastic zest for good wine and great food and was just one of the loveliest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. My sincerest sympathies to all of her family and colleagues and especially to Peter. She WILL be missed.

I always loved Ms. Nancy’s pleasant comfortable way. She was from Ft. Smith Ar., and she had such a lovely soft southern accent that could take the tension out of any situation.

I met Nancy Miller when I was an intern at the Post-Dispatch right out of college. She was an editor on the city desk, and I was an eager young reporter. She made me pull up a chair and sit next to her while she edited my raw copy. She was patient, funny and charming. I had grown up in the South and her drawling accent was a comfort. Nancy had a light touch with words, and she taught me how to say more with less.

She was old school refined. Her columns were a true window to the type of person she was, and I aspired to be that sort of writer and person. We went out to lunch soon after she retired. While she waited outside the restaurant, a strange man approached her and wanted to read her aura or some other mumbo jumbo. She was trying to politely back away, but he wasn’t getting the hint. I took her inside and said, “Nancy, you are too nice.”

That was her way – graceful, kind and incapable of rudeness.

Last week, she sent me an encouraging email after reading my first column. I wrote her back saying that I hoped I would make her proud. She responded, “I have no doubt you will.”

She was the classiest editor I’ve ever had.

Shock and disbelief - that’s all I feel today.
I’m a a freelance writer, and Nancy gave me my first chance in Lifestyle back in 2004 , when I hosted and wrote about a 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair Tea Party. Nancy even came to the event! I have a wonderful photo of her from that day which I treasure.
She carefully guided me through my Entertaining articles, making them …and me… look much better .
My sincerest sympathy to her her family and friends.
Sheila Frayne Rhoades.

I didn’t know Nancy Miller, but was touched to read that she had served as a journalism adviser at Forest Park Community College, where I took my first 101 class more than 20 years ago.

I was so sad to hear of the untimely death of Nancy Miller. Every Saturday morning, I went to the Lifestyle section first to read her column. I felt like I knew her after reading her column every week. She was such a delight and she will be missed, I’m sure, by all her family and friends, and my sympathy goes out to them.

When I began working at the Post-Dispatch nearly 11 years ago, Nancy was one of my colleagues on the Metro Desk. Her cool head and sharp wit served our readers and our newsroom well. When Nancy spoke, we all listened — in part to hear what she had to say and in part to revel in the Arkansas accent that decades in St. Louis could not dent.

Nancy made reporters better by making their stories better, and she made the newsroom better by being herself.

One of the best newsroom stories I tell is a Nancyism. In the late 1990s, facial piercings were not as common as they are today. Yet we had a young intern sporting a nose ring. Nancy sized him up one summer morning when she wanted to send him on an important interview. “The nose ring will have to go,” she told him. But, he protested, it only comes out with pliers.

And in her sweet Southern drawl she replied: “Well you better find your toolbox.”

Godspeed Nancy. May the angels take you into paradise.

There are woman in this world that have touched lives of people that they have never met. That would be Nancy Miller. Within her columns we were invited into her living room and got to share the stories that are usually saved for best of friends. Her loss will be felt by more than the people she has known in her life, but also by her faithful readers who unknowingly to her also became her best of friends.
My deepest sympathy to her family and friends.

One of my favorite Saturday morning rituals has been to read the Saturday Post-Dispatch while drinking my coffee. Before she retired in June, I always save the Lifestyle section for last, mostly because ending that morning routine with Nancy’s columns always brought a smile to my face - no matter what news the rest of the paper may have brought. I was sad to see her retire this past year and - I must admit - she came to my mind the other day as I read another one of my favorite columnist. I still follow that same routine, but I know now I won’t ever read that section without thinking of Nancy. I pray for God’s comfort to those who knew and loved her on a personal level - and to those of us who felt like one of her dear friends through the stories she shared.