Miles was a friend of mine. I have little memory of our meeting, it just seems like we knew each other forever. As youngsters we were both fascinated by what I guess you would call "electronics", though that is entirely too fancy a name. It was closer to "mechanics", as in the time we repaired a wire recorder and took turns marveling at the sound of our voices. When we slept over, we listened to my short wave radio for "ham" radio guys in Australia or Europe. Later we used the same radio to listen to "Randy's Record Shop" over WLAC in Gallatin, Tennessee. There we discovered Ray Charles and Lightning Hopkins and Jimmy Reed and Fats Domino among a long line of rhythm and blues artists.
Maybe it was something about the voice transformed through vacuum tubes that fascinated us. But I think that radio, in those days, was a portal for Delta boys who were searching to find a larger world. And sure enough, we did find that world, and now we're coming home.
I know the Beulah Cemetery. It lies in an old bend of the Mississippi River. I intend to go there and pay my respects to my old friend Miles who sleeps in the Delta soil.
Donald Miles McCaddon Donald Miles McCaddon, physician, died Saturday, August 15, 2009. Born on September 23, 1942 in Forrest City, Arkansas, Miles grew up in Helena, Arkansas and Greenville, Mississippi. After attending Millsaps College for three years, he entered medical school at the University of Mississippi. Miles served his country as Major in the United States Air Force at the 48th Tactical Hospital in Lakenheath, England from 1968-72. Before his retirement, he was a pediatrician with Tallahassee Pediatrics. Miles was known as an astute diagnostician, but he was a healer on many levels. He was generous with his young patients and instinctively knew how to put them at ease. The children loved the monkeys and bears on his stethoscope and his Santa Claus and Halloween ties. His keen intellect included a wide range of interests. He delighted in sharing zinnias and collard greens from his Alligator Point garden. He was a great dancer, an avid boatman, a stylish dresser and a photographer. Miles loved telling stories, including vignettes of himself, such as the time on the dance floor when the sole fell off his shoe, explaining that he had "danced his soul away". Friends and family will remember Miles for his love, his kindness, and his poetic vision of the world. He is survived by his son, John McCaddon of Tallahassee; and two daughters, Alex McCaddon of Stuart, Florida, and Sarah Howe (Ryan) of Decatur, Georgia. He was preceded in death by his parents, Laverne Miles and Charles Donaldson McCaddon; and a sister, Martha Addleton Brinker. The funeral service will be held at St. John's Episcopal Church on Wednesday, August 19, 2009 at 3 p.m. EDT. Burial will be at a later date in the Beulah Cemetery in Rosedale, Mississippi. Beggs Funeral Home (850-942-2929) is in charge of handling arrangements. In memory of Miles, please consider being an organ and tissue donor as he was. For information call Southeast Tissue Alliance 1-866-432-1164. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be sent to the Tallahassee Pediatric Foundation, 1126 Lee Avenue, Tallahassee, FL 32303; or to St. John's, 211 North Monroe Street, Tallahassee, FL 32301, where he was a devoted member for many years.
Published in Tallahassee Democrat on Aug. 18, 2009
Jeffrey Holmes
Miles and I were good friends through high school and college. Those of us who knew him always appreciated his good humor and spiritual qualities.He's gone too soon. RIP, my friend.....
D Gorton
Miles was a friend of mine. I have little memory of our meeting, it just seems like we knew each other forever. As youngsters we were both fascinated by what I guess you would call "electronics", though that is entirely too fancy a name. It was closer to "mechanics", as in the time we repaired a wire recorder and took turns marveling at the sound of our voices. When we slept over, we listened to my short wave radio for "ham" radio guys in Australia or Europe. Later we used the same radio to listen to "Randy's Record Shop" over WLAC in Gallatin, Tennessee. There we discovered Ray Charles and Lightning Hopkins and Jimmy Reed and Fats Domino among a long line of rhythm and blues artists.
Maybe it was something about the voice transformed through vacuum tubes that fascinated us. But I think that radio, in those days, was a portal for Delta boys who were searching to find a larger world. And sure enough, we did find that world, and now we're coming home.
I know the Beulah Cemetery. It lies in an old bend of the Mississippi River. I intend to go there and pay my respects to my old friend Miles who sleeps in the Delta soil.
I'll probably hum a little Jimmy Reed.
D. Gorton
Jeffrey Holmes