Alan Paul Miller passed away on Friday evening November 28th, 2025, at his home in Evanston, Illinois. He was 87 years old. He drifted off peacefully doing the things he loved: watching football, reading the Tribune, and reveling in a Bears victory. Having recently celebrated his 46th wedding anniversary with his wife Barb, the two had just shared a nice post-Thanksgiving dinner.

 

He was a loving husband, devoted father and step-father; a dedicated lawyer, and a fervent sports fan. Not necessarily in that order. 

 

Born in 1938 at the Detroit Women’s Hospital, Alan was adopted by J. Musser and Marian Miller. It was there that little Al fell head over heels in love. With baseball. Then football. Attending a double-header at age 8 with his mother, who was his best friend, he recalled a glow of green grass at Brigg’s Stadium so entrancing that he thought he’d “died and gone to heaven.” His parents later moved with him and his younger sister, Peggy, to LaGrange, Illinois, where he became a dedicated Chicago sports fan. Playing basketball with neighborhood pals, Alan forged lifelong friendships with Jerry, Bud, Jim, Phil, and Erv. The latter reported Alan’s penchant for observing rules. He believed in fairness. It is no wonder he became a lawyer. But he was first, and foremost, a good friend, that Erv attributed to his “inquisitiveness and curiosity.”

 

At Brown University, Alan headed the school newspaper’s sports column. He later served two years on a Naval ship during peacetime. Al married his college girlfriend, then had two children, Kristen and Gigi, while attending University of Michigan Law School.  The family then moved to Evanston, Illinois, where he rounded out a family of five, with twins Melissa and Eric, then Kyra. It was in the midst of having young children, coaching little league and girls basketball in Kenilworth, that his burgeoning law career took off.  

 

He took the train downtown every day to his law firm, Kiesler and Berman, where he was beloved by his colleagues and dubbed, “Big Al, the working man’s pal”. He practiced law for almost 60 years. And was a Bears season ticket holder for just a little shorter. As a lawyer, Alan excelled. His blend of intelligence, strategy, affability, and competitiveness proved a winning combination in his decades trying civil defense cases. He rarely lost a case. On the contrary, as a Bears fan, it benefited Al that he was a “good sport.” 

 

In 1979, Alan met and married the love of his life, Barbara Moskow Chipman, with whom he completed his family with her two daughters. The two of them believed that being a step-parent meant that one would serve as a friend to the children. When Karyn and Kristin didn’t at first know what to call their new stepfather, they came up with the friendly nickname “MM” for Mr. Miller. This endearing moniker lasted for Barb until the day he died. It also was one of the last thing his stepdaughter Kristin muttered the night she passed away of ovarian cancer in December of 2018. She had waited for her big friend, MM, to come and gave him the biggest smile.

 

After Kristen’s death, both Al and Barb were bereft. It seemed they did not have a lot to look forward to. Unbeknownst to them, while they experienced the depths of grief, a life-changing gift was afoot. The Summer before Kristin Chipman died, she had done Ancestry DNA and found out that Barb, who’d also been adopted in the Detroit area a few years after her birth in 1938 , had a first cousin. This experience set the stage for for what was to come in Al’s life.

 

His daughter Gigi had also pursued the discovery of heritage when she stumbled upon a first cousin through Ancestry DNA. Then a family tree. Our family tree. It turned out that after little Alan was passed from the young couple Alma and Harry Walters into the welcome arms of Muzz and Marian Miller, that the Walters later went on to have four more children; three of whom were still living and had grown children and grandchildren of their own. 

 

In the new year of 2019, right before Al’s 81st birthday, Gigi would reveal this awesome news to him. She’d already begun a correspondence with all the Walters, of whom there were many. They were so surprised, yet unexpectedly welcoming and eager to meet their long lost older brother. 

There existed a natural amount of incredulity on both sides about whether this revelation of full siblings could actually be true. But the clincher of proof for the Walters would be that Al’s favorite candy was chocolate covered cherries. And, for Al, the day that Gigi carefully shared the news to Dad that she’d found his relatives would be when she said to a pensive Al that she’d heard that “Alma made a mean cherry pie,” he looked up with tears in his eyes and exclaimed, “That’s my favorite kind of pie.” 

 

Al soon met over the phone his three younger siblings, Jim Walters, Jackie Fontanilla, Wendy King, and his nephew Jeff Walters. Jeff’s dad Michael had passed away. The connection was visceral. Full relatives. One of whom always knew he was adopted and, having appreciated his good upbringing with his parents and Peggy, didn’t feel like he was missing anything. And four of whom never even had an inkling that they were missing anyone. What would ensue would be nothing short of a constant family reunion for the next almost seven years. The Walters and Millers became a true family. 

 

Al, Barb, and the Miller family got to go to Michigan for a handful of reunions, including a wedding. And found countless points of reference. Especially surrounding growing up in Detroit, just across town. Some shared love for the Detroit Lions and Detroit Tigers. The family’s unique story even made the local news during a stop after a Tigers game at the Lafayette Coney Island restaurant. 

 

To the Walters, seven years must seem far to short. They had just begun to learn the life of a brother whom they came to love dearly. For Alan, and for Barb, the gift, and prescient timing, of these seven years has proved priceless. Dad was in the Autumn of his life. One could add up all the victories of his favorite teams: The Lions, and Tigers, and Cubs, and Wildcats, and  Wolverines…and Bears (oh My!), and their combined production of serotonin could not equate the euphoria Alan Miller has experienced in LOVE these past seven years. 

 

So, it is with great sadness, in the passing Big Al, our father, our brother, our husband, our colleague, our tennis mate, our bridge opponent, our coach, our season ticket holder seat mate, our neighbor, our church member, our storyteller, and our friend; our MM…  that we have to say goodbye. 

 

It is my hope, as is all of ours, that when he died, he did go to Heaven. And that it welcomed him like the entrance to Brigg’s Field, effervescent green. And that his mother would be there waiting for him. His father, too. And he would get to meet Harry and Alma and Michael. A true double header. 

 

 

Condolence and guestbook at evanstonfuneral.com