I try to steer clear of politics here, but occasionally someone comes along who makes that difficult. Stephen Miller is one of those people.

I generally keep my political opinions to myself. I don’t see much point in joining the endless arguments that dominate social media. But I’ve watched Miller for years, and there’s something about the man that I find deeply objectionable.

It’s not his political affiliation. It’s his apparent lack of compassion, his arrogance, and his willingness to use the enormous power of government against people who have little ability to defend themselves.

Miller was a leading advocate of the immigration policies that resulted in thousands of children being separated from their parents in 2018. I’ve never understood how anyone could regard that as acceptable. Enforcing immigration laws is one thing. Deliberately separating families is quite another.

His rhetoric bothers me almost as much as his policies. He talks about immigrants as though they’re an invading army, rarely bothering to distinguish dangerous criminals from ordinary people trying to make a living.

And then there’s his attitude toward constitutional protections. In 2025, he publicly discussed suspending habeas corpus in connection with immigration enforcement. That’s a fundamental safeguard against unlawful detention, not some inconvenient regulation that can be set aside whenever the government finds it troublesome.

I spent decades in nuclear power operations and training, where procedures, regulations, and limitations on authority existed for good reasons. Nobody was entitled to disregard them simply because they interfered with getting something done. I have much the same attitude toward the Constitution.

Miller is obviously intelligent and politically effective. That doesn’t make him wise, and it certainly doesn’t make him someone I want exercising more authority.

Now he’s been appointed White House chief of staff.

I don’t know Stephen Miller personally, and I don’t pretend to know what goes on in his head. I can only judge him by his public statements and the policies he’s promoted.

I’ve seen enough.

I don’t expect everyone to agree with me. That’s fine. I don’t usually share my opinions anyway.

But in this case, I thought I’d make an exception.

See also Stephen Miller: The Ideologue Behind Donald Trump’s Immigration Policies and His Rise to White House Chief of Staff

This section is from the July 1886 Sanborn Fire Insurance map¹ for Russellville.

This is a remarkably detailed historical fire-insurance diagram of the Melrose Cotton Mill in Russellville, Arkansas, built in 1882.

It identifies the mill as a manufacturer of rope, twine, carpet warp, and dozen yarn. The drawing places the property approximately ¼ mile southeast of the post office, alongside the Little Rock & Fort Smith Railroad and the extension of Jefferson Street.

It also documents the mill’s machinery, building construction, steam equipment, fire protection, and adjoining structures.

The drawing provides particularly valuable evidence for reconstructing the mill’s appearance. Among other details, it records:

One important distinction: this is a plan-view industrial survey, not an architectural elevation. It establishes the layout and many construction details, but it does not definitively show the exterior architectural style, window shapes, roof profile, or building height.

For the historical research on Melrose Cotton Mill, this is an unusually useful primary source.

Read more about the Melrose Cotton Mill: Russellville’s Forgotten Industrial Enterprise.

1. Founded in 1867, the Sanborn Map Company produced detailed fire insurance maps of American cities and towns. Originally created to help insurers assess fire risks, the maps documented buildings, construction materials, street layouts, businesses, industrial equipment, and fire protection systems. Their remarkable detail makes them invaluable historical records. Today, historians, genealogists, preservationists, and researchers use Sanborn maps to reconstruct vanished neighborhoods, identify former businesses, and trace how American communities developed and changed over time.