Diane Disney Miller was an amazing woman and so full of life and with so many things left to do that it seems unreal that she is gone. I do not have the skill or the words to write how much I will miss her as a person and as an active patron of Disney history.
I have been very fortunate in my life to get to know some of the people who knew Walt Disney personally but the one I was most impressed with was Diane.
When I spoke at the Disney Family Museum in San Francisco, which exists only because of her vision and dedication, I remarked later to friends how taken aback I was that Diane was so physically fit that she could easily bound two steps at a time going up stairways without any effort while I lagged behind her.
Her mind was razor-sharp and, like her father, always curious. It seemed like she would be around forever.
Like her father, she was both simple and complicated. She could shift from being the keen public business woman who never forgave people who tried to take advantage of her or her famous name to a shy almost-Midwestern grandmother with a child's sense of wonder and eagerness.
While Diane spent the last two decades of her life in the spotlight, it was not a place where she wanted to be, which helps explain why the general public knew so little about her and her accomplishments. When she found herself in the public eye, she usually shifted the attention to her father.
She was the last living connection to Walt Disney's family and, in the last decade, was an aggressive advocate for researching and preserving Disney history. Her enthusiastic support of the efforts of Disney historians like myself, Didier Ghez, JB Kaufman and so many others enriched the documentation of Disney history in the last years of her life.
Diane was born December 18, 1933, thirteen days after Walt's 32nd birthday.
Walt was concerned because his hopes had been raised twice before but Lillian had miscarried both times so Diane was called a “miracle baby”.
On the day of Diane's birth, Walt was receiving a special award from Parents magazine for his “distinguished service to children” at a luncheon at the Disney Studio. Just as he was handed the award, he received a note that Lillian had gone into labor at Good Samaritan Hospital.
Walt got to the hospital just as Lillian was going under from the anesthesia and the last thing she heard was his cough. Diane was a cesarean delivery.
The next day, the Los Angeles Times featured a headline: “Mickey Mouse has a daughter!”
After Diane's birth, Lillian later suffered another miscarriage and her doctor told her it would be best not to try again so the Disney family quietly arranged to adopt Sharon because they did not want Diane to be an only child.
Diane and her younger sister Sharon were shielded from publicity, in part because of the Disneys' fear of the tragedy of the Charles Lindbergh baby kidnapping. So the sisters lived out of the spotlight for most of their lives without their father using them for publicity.
She married Ron Miller, former President and CEO of the Disney Company, in a small church ceremony at All Saints by the Sea Episcopal Church in Montecito, California on May 9, 1954. They were both twenty years old. Her father, Walt, cried throughout the ceremony.
Ron Miller and Diane Disney Miller are joined by Walt Disney at their wedding.
Ron and Diane had seven children: Christopher Disney Miller, Joanna Miller, Tamara Scheer, Jennifer Miller-Goff, Walter Elias Disney Miller, Ronald Miller and Patrick Miller.
In 1976, Lillian Disney, Diane and Ron, purchased two vineyards in the Napa Valley that became the well-known Silverado Vineyards Winery in 1980. Diane was the driving force behind The Walt Disney Family Museum in the Presidio of San Francisco that opened October 2009.
She tried to live her life out of the spotlight, concentrating on raising her children and on philanthropic endeavors. In 1997, with the death of her mother, Diane became a more visible public presence in order to finish the Walt Disney Concert Hall in downtown Los Angeles, California, and defend her father and preserve his legacy.
She was an aggressive advocate for researching and preserving Disney history and supported many people, including myself, in their endeavors. She stood five foot four and a half inches in heels but was larger than life.
She died on Tuesday, November 19, 2013 at the age of 79 after complications from an accidental fall she had several weeks earlier.
How did I get the opportunity to know her? Here in Diane's words is how that happened when I was writing under the pseudonym “Wade Sampson” because of my manager at WDW who hated that I received any recognition for my knowledge of Disney history.
“Some years ago our son Walt brought to my attention an article on the MousePlanet website about my dad by Wade Sampson. It was that rare thing; an honest, well written piece that was so authentic, so true to my dad's spirit, so unprejudiced and non-judgmental that as I read it I could see the twinkle in dad's eye, hear his laugh.
“I immediately wrote the author Wade Sampson a letter of appreciation. Some weeks later I received a reply and learned that Wade Sampson was actually the pseudonym of Jim Korkis, who worked for the Walt Disney World Company and was well respected as a Disney historian.
“Since that time I looked forward eagerly to 'Wade's' ongoing output, learning some things I didn't know, but always delighted with what he chose to write about and his obvious understanding and even affection for his subject.
“Jim did not put my father on a pedestal, but he does like him, and I do not think that disqualifies him from having objectivity in his opinion of him. I find myself in the same position. In his articles, my dad's personality, character and values are displayed honestly.
“I have not hesitated to correspond with Jim whenever I think of something that might interest him, or to add some insights into something he has written about.
“Dad did not hide anything about his life. He loved to talk about it. But he never really talked about religion, and his feelings about prayer, and I learned from Jim how deeply these feelings went. I knew my dad from his time at home and Jim has been able to fill in so many gaps for me of what he was like at work.
“I look forward to his continued exploration of dad's life and times. Something interesting and illuminating always seems to turn up, some little event and angle that adds to the story of his very good life.”
Diane Disney Miller with the “Storytellers” statue at Disney California Adventure Park.
As I was going through some old files in researching an article, I found some of the correspondence I had with Diane from 2008–2013. Here are some excerpts where she talked about her father, sometimes sharing things that had never before appeared in print:
“I don't think anybody really knows him (Walt Disney) anymore. His name is so familiar and the brand is everywhere and the company gets larger and larger, but there were a couple of really terrible books written about him.
“As a daughter, I have been very upset by things that have been written and said about him that were not true. He was a good, warm father to me.
“He was my trusted friend. I could tell him anything and everything and know that he would understand. He loved being a daddy and a grandfather. He gave me his unconditional love and support.
“For years the company tried to perpetuate an image of Walt Disney that was deeply sanitized. They cropped cigarettes out of his hands in photographs and so thoroughly tried to disguise Walt as someone he really wasn't that they kept his memory open to this kind of cruel and bizarre stuff that has come up like his being frozen.
“At times my dad made people angry and hurt their feelings. He could get so focused on something and so impatient, he was just oblivious. But that is the worst thing you can say about him, other than that he smoked himself to death.
“I never felt jealous of Mickey, but the public had a large share of my father and I was jealous of that even as a little girl. He was ours. He was our daddy but everyone felt he was theirs.
“No one understands that he was really a dad. When I stayed over at a friend's house, their dads seemed to be pretty much the same except that he was always interested in what we were doing in school and what we were thinking.
“I had a little friend, Elizabeth, and she was the daughter of movie producer Darryl Zanuck. They had a place at Smoke Tree as well. In the 7th-10th grades, she was very inclined to show business and she always made us do a skit for the school talent show.
“And several times, when it needed props, we went with my dad to the studio and we went to the carpenter's shop and he himself made some props for us. He was very good with his hands, he had worked as a carpenter with his father and he loved doing it.
“He never pushed us into anything and I kind of wish he had now that I think back on it. I think he didn't want us to suffer. He wanted us to find our own way, be our own person. I don't know what I could've contributed that would've been important to the company. My purpose now is to bring the man to people, not the brand but the man. He was a good man and I want people to know that.
“Dad said of his childhood, of his own life: 'I've always worked hard, but I've never been unhappy'. It was rather a pleasant experience, listening to Dad talk about his early life. He liked doing that.
“He loved his dad. He thought he was tough but he did love him. He thought his mother was beautiful and he loved her very dearly. One of the greatest tragedies in Dad's life was when his mother died. He said she had a wonderful sense of humor. His father had none.
“I remember going through Dad's dresser drawers one time looking for something. He kept things in them like a collection of matchboxes and soap packages from hotels and I used to find those fascinating. I found a newspaper clipping with the headline on it about his mother's death.
“He did love art and music. I know he liked Rembrandt. He liked Salvador Dali. He liked Debussy.
“Politically, Dad was also kind of strange figure because he said to me, before he died, 'You know, I consider myself a true liberal'. He did, of course, support especially conservative people, like (Barry) Goldwater and had not much respect for (Lyndon) Johnson, as a President. But he was definitely not an ultra-conservative.
“For instance, he really felt that Social Security and those things were good…that you've got to help people…that Social Security took the burden away from children for caring for their parents when they got too old.
“Had he not been wildly successful, had he been merely a creative, energetic dreamer who worked hard, loved his work but was relatively unknown, he would still have been a remarkable man and a wonderful father.
“Over the years, I have thought that maybe Dad really knew how ill he really was which is why that final cruise with the whole family was so important to him.
“Dad really liked people. He was so open that I cannot understand why he is sometimes referred to as 'enigmatic'. He was the same guy that they'd see on television. His work reflects his spirit and personality.
“I am very proud to be his daughter. I try to emulate his clear example of fairness and generosity.”
Diane Disney Miller at the Walt Disney Famiy Museum.
Whenever possible, I would allow her to review any stories about her father or her family and she was always supportive, always giving me a better perspective of the overall story.
On one story, she wrote back that what I had written was true but she wished I wouldn't reveal such and such about a relative. I wrote back that I would eliminate that reference and she responded, “You are a good writer. I should just leave you alone. You know what you are doing and nothing was untrue, but I am thankful you have decided not to include that information.”
She wanted the truth out there, but was always hesitant to share anything where a person was long gone and could not defend themselves. Eliminating that bit of information did not change the point of the story.
Sometimes she would share more information about a story like the one I wrote about Harry Cohn.
Harry Cohn, head of Columbia Pictures, allowed Walt's studio to leave Pat Powers' oppressive distribution of his shorts by offering a $7,000 advance for each cartoon and establishing a fund of $25,000 to combat Powers if he tried to sue when Walt left.
Powers feared going up against Cohn, who was known to be a fighter and to have mob connections (a loan from the mob in 1924 helped Cohn buy out his partner Joe Brandt), and suggested a monetary settlement in which he would relinquish all rights to the previous twenty-one Disney short cartoons.
Roy Disney expressed some concerns to Walt about Columbia which he described as being not “overburdened with good intentions.” Columbia released Disney short cartoons from 1930-1932 until Walt and Roy made a better deal with United Artists.
In his autobiography, Frank Capra, the Name Above the Title, filmmaker Capra wrote: “Disney and Cohn the vulgarian spoke different languages. Cohn mistook Disney's sensitivity for weakness. Crudely, and stupidly, he badgered and bulldozed until he lost Hollywood's richest gold mine. Disney took his enchanting films elsewhere for distribution. And later, as all true geniuses must, Walt established his own production and distribution set up.”
Author Bob Thomas briefly interviewed Walt about Cohn on May 25,1965, In that interview, Walt said, “Columbia wasn't doing right by our pictures. I knew they were making deals with theater owners, selling their lousy pictures with our shorts. They were getting more for the shorts but we didn't see the extra profit.
“After two years, we opened negotiations with United Artists without letting Columbia know. When we pulled away from Columbia, the executives complained, 'Why didn't you give us a chance?' I said, 'We gave you a chance for two years.' The Columbia boys were really sore, because just one year later we came up with Three Little Pigs.”
Apparently, Walt had few professional interactions with Harry Cohn himself, primarily just seeing him personally at the Hollywood parties and gatherings they both attended as heads of major film studios. However, in the unpublished interview, Walt remembered one interesting personal encounter.
“I never had any business dealings with Harry Cohn, just saw him socially. I understand he was a bastard to work for, but they say that about every head of a studio. They say it about me sometimes, too. Once, I was on the Riviera with my daughters, and I ran into Harry Cohn. He said I should give one of them a screen test. I said that was the last thing in the world I wanted.”
Diane Disney Miller, Walt's oldest daughter, was kind enough to write to me and share her memory of that occasion:
“We were staying at La Reserve de Beaulieu … such a lovely place! I was about fifteen and kind of chubby. The bikini had just become a fashion thing, and I had purchased one in the village that was VERY modest, really just a two-piece swim suit. Harry Cohn and his wife were always sitting by the pool in the sun, and he was very friendly.
“Dad told me that he had said 'You've got a beautiful daughter. You should give her a screen test.' Even then I didn't believe it. I sure didn't feel beautiful, and I think, and thought then, that he did it for dad. That his idea of a compliment was to suggest a screen test.
“Actually, we have film of that pool, twelve year old Sharon exuberantly diving off the diving board again and again, more sophisticated Diane in her new 'bikini' lying in the sun, until I spotted dad with his camera, and jumped up and dove into the ocean … just the other side of the pool area.
“It's not part of our family film archive. I found it later. The 'bikini' was orange, brown and white cotton shirred with elastic … very modest, rising just below my navel. I really liked it.”
Sharon, Lillian, Walt, and Diane Disney in the 1950s.
Diane was probably right that Cohn, in his own awkward and unsophisticated way, was trying to compliment Walt and show there were no personal hard feelings about Walt leaving Columbia. He was attempting to “bond” with a peer.
Disney history is such a rich tapestry of events that Walt's brief connection with Harry Cohn and Columbia is usually just a short anecdotal sentence in most histories of the company or biographies of Walt. However, it is just the type of little documented moment that I love sharing with MousePlanet readers.
Over the years, I have learned that there is always more to a story and thanks to Diane's generosity I was able to share some of that with MousePlanet readers and get into print those little anecdotal touches that brighten Disney history.
