Ophelia is a rambling community along the western shore of the Little Wicomico River in Northumberland County. The post office has a zip code of 22530, but mail delivery comes from Heathsville. As an unincorporated geo-political entity, the area has no elected local government, other than the board of supervisors, thus no one is the “Mayor of Ophelia.”
For the many years that he lived in a stately old home on the shores of the Little Wicomico River, John Miles could be called the “Unofficial Mayor of Ophelia.” He was a dedicated citizen, always eager to be of assistance to his neighbors. He was an old-fashioned gentleman, dignified, erudite and generous to everyone he encountered.
John was a gifted artist, having majored in art and architecture at Dartmouth College. While there, he was part of the ROTC contingent. Upon his graduation in 1956, he entered the U. S. Navy. Given his fascination with transportation, he became a Navy aviator. During the Vietnam War, he flew 198 combat missions over North Vietnam. His valor in warfare earned him numerous commendations, awards and medals, about which he modestly eschewed speaking.
John flew his missions from the aircraft carrier, Oriskany, a ship named after the Revolutionary War battle that was part of the 1777 Battles of Saratoga in September and October 1777 in Upstate New York. He was on board the Oriskany during the fire that erupted in 1966, which resulted in the loss of 44 seamen, one of the major catastrophes of the war. After repeated commissioning and decommissioning, the Oriskany is now an artificial reef in the Gulf of Mexico.
Leaving the Navy in 1968, John joined United Airlines, where he flew as a captain until his retirement in 1989, when he moved to Ophelia, thereby beginning a new phase of his life. He restored his old home and filled its large barn with some of his vintage and antique automobiles. He was more than a collector; he was a connoisseur of cars. He could spiel off the precise attributes of each vehicle, its pros and its cons, and most importantly, why he liked it.
As his birthdays were mounting, he sold his house and moved to the suburbs of Reedville. Some years ago, on the road into his new home, in a severe storm, a tall yellow pine tree fell across the roadway in the path of oncoming traffic. The highway crew came and removed the part of the tree that blocked the road, leaving a large part of the trunk in the woods pointing out in the direction of the oncoming traffic off of U.S 360.
John viewed the tree’s fate as an opportunity to engage in a new artistic pursuit. He began painting the flat surface of the trunk with a face, making the tree in its collapsed state a recognized part of the landscape, indeed, a work of art. Periodically, he would return to the site to paint a new face or scene. Driving down the road, travelers would look to see what new work of art he had left for them to enjoy.
Last week John died at the age of 91, leaving behind a legacy of youthful heroism, wartime valor, fidelity to his fellow service personnel and mastery of the simple, but sometimes difficult, task of being a good neighbor to those in his path. Appropriately, he will be buried in Arlington National Cemetery, along with other wartime heroes, another Cincinnatus, thereby becoming part of the lore of those interred there who stepped up to answer the call to serve.
John Irwin Miles, August 15, 1934–April 6, 2026. R.I.P.
