Miller's natural father, who had agreed during the divorce settlement not to contact his children, sent him a letter wishing him well when Miller and Gail married. The son didn't respond. When Miller was 35, he was warming up for a softball game in St. George when a man approached him and said, "Hi, I'm your dad." They saw each other a few times over the next few years, but Miller says, "He wanted it to be more of a relationship than I was comfortable with."

Miller himself was a distant father. He was gone six days and nights each week, and on the seventh day he played softball. "He didn't go to his kids' games, they went to his," says Gail. Miller's five children suffered from his absences. Most of them were rebellious and angry; they ran with the wrong crowd, got into trouble. Greg got kicked out of Alta High School. Roger divorced. The Millers' only daughter, Karen, had a baby at the age of 15, and for years was in and out of the house.

Even when he was home, Miller was preoccupied. Greg says he learned that when the door to his home office was shut, you didn't open it, and if it was ajar you entered at your own peril. To keep the peace, Gail tended to keep the children's troubles to herself until matters got so serious she had to tell him. By the time a problem reached Miller, it had already spiraled out of control, and Miller raged.

"Two things happened," says Miller. "As I achieved success in my career and ultimately in my own business, I felt safe in that environment. I knew what I was doing. As a husband and father, I viewed myself much more as a breadwinner than as an emotional leader. As long as I provided for my family, I fulfilled my role. I didn't realize until my late 40s that my kids and wife had an emotional need for me. I grew up in a family where we didn't talk about emotions; we talked about work, achieving and accomplishing.

"It got worse as I got older. It was moving to higher planes as the world sees it and those things demanding more time and allowing myself to cater to those demands."

"My father loved us, and he was concerned for us," says Greg, "but he wasn't there for us. I don't think he knew what he was missing."

The bridge builder

Miller, who turns 57 this week, has cut his work hours to 45-50 per week in the past year. Over the years, his motivation for work beyond the car business is rooted in religion, philanthropy and his interest in art, history and community.