Frank H Miles 1958-2022.jpg

Frank Harvey Miles III, 1958-2022

At 8:51 p.m. on March 24, 2022, a colorful local figure and Krampus called Miles Actually departed this earthly plane for something else. He slipped away holding the hand of his wife, Tamara Arthun (whom he affectionately called Red) while his friend Jane Pojawa read him comments, poems and secular prayers that loved ones left on his Facebook page. Brooke Whitehead, a neighbor and beloved family friend, attended to all his medical needs, in conjunction with home hospice care, and was also with him to the end. Miles left without pain and surrounded by love.

Frank Harvey Miles III was born in Bedford, Va., on Sept. 13, 1958. No one ever called him that, it was always just Miles. Miles was an absolute force of nature who lived life to its fullest. He enjoyed rock climbing and kayaking, photography, art "happenings," was funny and smart and had this way of convincing just about everyone that they were his best friend. He lived in San Francisco from 1989-2005, studied English Literature at Berkeley for a time, then moved to Los Angeles and worked at the LAWeekly before becoming a web developer for USC's Engineering School.

He survived a heart attack, and in his latest adventure, he married Tamara Arthun and moved to a home in Bear Valley Springs. Miles considered Red to be the love of his life, and his adventures with horses, goats, chickens and dogs were a source of amusement for his urban friends, who recalled him (among other things) as a founding member of Krampus Los Angeles. As Santa's "enforcer," he would dress in a furry costume and hand-carved wooden mask and threaten the unrepentant naughty in the weeks leading up to Christmas.

Miles faced his final illness, metastasized melanoma, with complete honesty and disclosure. We all hoped that he would have more time, but ultimately, he was betrayed by his "treacherous meat suit," as he described it. He kept an online journal detailing his struggles with the disease process, hoping that others could learn from his lived experience and share in it. He got a lot of comfort from the support of his friends.

Although Miles died an atheist, he knew that spirit is not flesh and for him there was no contradiction. Miles also despised the martial language surrounding cancer. He would not describe it as a "battle" or a "war" or that he "fought" it. He wasn't fearless; he was brave. He went as far as medical science could take him. When the end came, it was swift.

Miles had a wry and hilarious sense of humor and a big heart. His candor and creativity were renowned. He was predeceased by his father, mother and two sisters; he is survived by his beloved wife, his niece, a bunch of pets, and countless friends.

"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds." — Edward Abbey

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