This is Riedel's article on Miller's death. The police say cleaning supplies were present.
Not every ending is happy
I have to report some sad news today.
Miller Wright, a veteran theater and nightclub publicist and a real gentleman, died last week. The circumstances were grisly, sparking rumors about suicide.
Some people said he was depressed because his business was on the rocks. His leading client, Michael Feinstein’s cabaret at the Regency Hotel, closed down last year.
But others said Miller was lining up several off-Broadway shows and was happy to be doing theater publicity again.
All I have are the facts, from law-enforcement sources. Last Thursday at 10:30 in the morning, the concierge where Miller lived on East 95th Street heard “a loud thumping” sound on the scaffolding in front of the building. An eyewitness reported seeing a “human body falling onto the scaffolding.” The police were called and found the body. The concierge identified Miller from a photo.
The police went to his apartment — 23J — and saw that his bedroom window was open. On the floor were damp paper towels and a bottle of Windex. The inner window had streaks on it, the outer window had been wiped clean.
Police believe Miller slipped while cleaning his window. His death has been ruled a “tragic accident,” law enforcement officials say.
Miller, who was 56, arrived in New York from North Carolina in 1986 and went to work for Shirley Herz, one of the last of the great old Broadway publicists. Right off the bat he looked after such stars as Kathleen Turner, in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” and Tyne Daly, in “Gypsy.” In all the years I dealt with him — sometimes on stories that were not so flattering to his clients — he never raised his voice or lost his cool.
He laughed off the bad news and promoted the good.
He loved the cabaret world, repping such nightclub fixtures as John Pizzarelli, Ann Hampton Callaway and Andrea Marcovicci.
But I think he was proudest of Feinstein’s. The cabaret business isn’t easy, but Feinstein’s had a good 14-year run.
Much of its success was due to Miller.
He’ll be missed by everyone who worked at the club — and by everyone who knew him around Broadway.