Robert Miller

RMMR is about Mustangs, Friends, and Families. This year’s Mustanger Spotlight is Robert Miller! Hope you enjoy this story written by his daughter, Shelby.

With the 37th annual RMMR coming up this June—and Father’s Day weekend happening right alongside it—I’m excited to introduce you to your fellow “Mustanger”, Robert Miller… and honored to brag about my “cool car dad.”

You’ve probably heard people say, “Everything I know about cars, I learned from my dad.” That should be true for me too… but I didn’t exactly pay attention growing up—haha. I know basically nothing about cars. Sure, he made sure I could change the tire, but beyond that? I tuned (pun intended) the rest out because there was never a need to learn when you’ve got a “cool car dad” like Robert Miller. I remember one time he just turned a car on, listened for half a second, and immediately knew what was wrong with it. To me, he’s a car whisperer. (Which is 100% something a non-car person would say, haha.) But seriously, car people are basically wizards to the rest of us.

While the following is a tribute to my father, Robert Miller, this is also a special shoutout and blessing to all the “cool car dads” and “car wizards” I’ve had the chance to meet over the years of attending RMMR.

Growing up in the Miller family meant growing up in a Ford family. Fords were basically all we ever drove. For the longest time, I thought it was because of our connection to Henry Ford. As the story goes, he built one of his early factories on land he purchased from our family, which is why the plant sits on Miller Road (Dearborn, MI). And while that bit of family lore is true, it turns out it wasn’t the reason we became a Ford family. The real spark came in 1978, when my dad was a senior in high school. His dad, Dan Miller, gave him his very first Mustang—a 1964½ Mustang coupe. What started as a simple commuter car quickly became a mock “hot rod.” It was just a 6-cylinder with a 3-speed, but he made it look like a V8, jacking up the back with air shocks and slapping on big, wide tires.

Since 1978, my dad has owned around ten different Mustangs—not including the ones he currently has. When asked if there’s one he regrets selling, he didn’t even hesitate: “ALL OF THEM!” One of his earliest, and most special, Mustangs is a white 1968 coupe, the first car he ever bought with his own money. He still owns it today. Though it currently sits gutted as a “project,” it’s set to be brought back to life in the coming years, this time with a little help from one of his grandsons. The plan? To restore it together and make it his grandson’s very first car. Before it became a restoration project, that ’68 coupe was his pride and joy. He drove it for years, and it was the first Mustang he raced after joining the Colorado Shelby Club (SAAC Rocky Mountain division) around 1984 (he couldn’t afford a Shelby back in the ‘80s). He participated in countless events throughout the ’80s and ’90s, including a number of street night races at Englewood Speedway (when that existed), often alongside his brothers (my “cool car uncles”), Richard and Ronald Miller. The three of them have been riding together since the ’80s.

By the early ’90s, my dad’s racing days started to take a backseat. He had a 5-year-old and a 6-year-old to raise—my brother and me, born in ’87 and ’86. Growing up, I’d hear stories about his racing years, but I never actually saw him behind the wheel. It always felt like he was telling “glory days” stories. Instead of filling his weekends with time at the race tracks, his weekends were filled with attending our track & field meets. Then, in 2008, after I graduated from college and wrapped up my own track career, he picked his back up. That’s when I realized: he wasn’t done racing, he’d just been waiting for the right moment to get back on the track.

Today, my dad—along with his wife, Lourdes Estrada—owns an impressive lineup: two 2007 Shelby GT500s (one blue, one white), a blue Boss 302, a 2018 GT350R, a 1969 Shelby GT350, and a 1973 Mach 1. All of them will be at RMMR this year. On top of that, he has about eight more Mustangs in various stages of restoration (his ever-growing collection of “projects”).

Dad’s main racing car is his 1969 Shelby, which he bought in the early ’90s. You can see him race it every year at the RMMR. He also competes in other places, including the Sturgis Mustang Roundup in South Dakota and the Hastings Mustang Roundup in Nebraska. He ran the Central City Hill Climb in 2014, 2015, and 2016—two of those years in the ’69 Shelby, and once in a 2007 Shelby GT500. In the ’69, he hit a top speed of 148 mph. There’s a video from one of those runs in the ’69 on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_DO_Bu32Wjc

One of his preferences is to keep the body looking original, but when it comes to the rest of the car, nothing’s off-limits. The ’69 is packed with mods—suspension upgrades, power-enhancing engine mods, a new clutch—anything to make it go faster. It’s all about performance, much like the recent “mods” he made for himself: two brand-new knees. Gotta keep his body moving fast, too, haha.

When I first started attending RMMR with him, I’d overhear other racers saying things like, “Miller does his own work.” That’s when I realized, maybe my dad was actually “cool”—at least in some world, haha. My dad buys the parts, but he does all the work himself—alignments, assembly, modifications—you name it. He doesn’t just swap in original components; he customizes everything to fit exactly what he wants for the car. Honestly, even changing a tire wears me out, so I’m constantly amazed at how brilliant he is and how many hours he can dedicate to his cars. A “car wizard”, like I said.

When he bought his ’69, the goal was simple: build it, race it, and have a good time doing it. People have told him plenty of times that it belongs in a car show or museum. Maybe one day someone will restore it and park it like a trophy. But for now? He’s pretty sure Carroll Shelby would rather see it tearing up the track.

Every year I’ve attended RMMR, I hear some version of the same joke: “Is it the car or the driver?” When the car’s performing well on the track, it’s always credited to the driver. But if something’s off, well—then it’s definitely the car’s fault. As for the ’69, Dad feels it’s pretty close to being dialed in. The car is near its peak, so the next big improvement will have to be him improving his driving skills. That said, his next real focus is shifting toward his various project cars.

Racing and cars have always been a part of the family DNA. Dad’s older brother, Rich, currently owns a CSX 4075 continuation AC Cobra, a 1967 Shelby GT500, and a 2013 Boss 302—which should be at RMMR this year—along with three or four Mustang project cars. Dad’s youngest brother, Ron, has a 2007 Shelby GT500 (also expected at RMMR), a 1966 Mustang A-code convertible, and several ongoing project builds. Ron’s wife, (my aunt) Michelle, owns a 2008 Shelby GT500, which will also be making an appearance at RMMR.

Dad has been participating in RMMR since 2013, when he and Ron first attended together. The following year, Michelle joined them, and not long after, I started going too. I’ve always recognized and valued how my dad supported my life and hobbies, so it means the world to me that we can now support him in his passion. What began as two brothers heading to RMMR has grown into a full-fledged family tradition. This year, 2025, we’re expecting around 25 family members to attend—eight of whom will be competing in the autocross. The youngest attendee will be his youngest grandson, Choice Murray (age 2), who will be driving a Shelby GT500 (well, a children’s electric car version of one) while the adults walk the track before the autocross.

What started as a couple of brothers at a car event has blossomed into a full family affair, and every year, as we all gather together, I’m reminded just how special this connection is. So here’s to my dad, Robert Miller, and all the “cool car dads”, “cool car uncles”, and “car wizards” out there. You make a lasting impact on the people around you, whether on or off the track.