Norman Scott Miller
Norman Scott Miller, KC9CSC, age 46, of Houston, TX passed away suddenly on August 22, 2026. He was born October 2, 1979 in New Albany, Indiana to Brad Miller and Cynthia Leggett.
Norm graduated from East Washington High School in Pekin, IN in 1998 and went on to study at Purdue University in West Lafayette, IN where he was a member of the Delta Upsilon fraternity. During his studies, he participated in a cooperative education program allowing him to alternate semesters between taking classes and working at the Bayer Corporation where he helped design glucometers, receiving multiple patents. He ultimately completed his degree in Mechanical Engineering in 2003.
He moved to Houston in 2004 to pursue his childhood love of space by working at NASA’s Johnson Space Center. Early in his career, he provided systems safety engineering support for multiple pieces of hardware that flew on the Space Shuttle and International Space Station (ISS). Most recently, he worked for the Boeing Corporation as the lead of the System Safety group and served as a member of both the Boeing Safety Review Panel team and the NASA ISS Safety Review Panel. He was also an author and sustainer of hardware-specific hazard reports, safety assessments, and integrated ISS safety products for Boeing. His always-positive contributions and dedication towards continued safe operations of the ISS will be deeply missed.
Shortly after starting his career, Norm met his wife of 18 years, Rebecca (Becki) Kass, at a wedding where they were both in the bridal party. They married at Purdue University on May 17, 2008 and made their home in the Clear Lake area of Houston with their beloved dogs Dustmop, Gertie, and Lil Bubb.
Norm enjoyed pursuing his various hobbies, endeavoring to become an expert in whatever he was doing. He enjoyed music and possessed the ability to play almost any instrument he picked up, and was most recently lovingly restoring a family heirloom banjo.
He took full advantage of his location near Clear Lake and Galveston Bay by enrolling in sailing lessons, and ultimately going on to become an American Sailing Association-certified instructor for the Bay Area Sailing School where he periodically taught weekend classes.
His greatest passion was being a HAM radio operator, earning his amateur license in 2002 under the call sign KC9CSC, and went on to earn his amateur extra license in 2022. He was a member of several HAM clubs and online communities, and even started a YouTube channel with his brother, Greg, dedicated to the hobby. He enjoyed teaching others about amateur radio and meeting up with his HAM buddies over video calls and in-person at HAMfests.
He will be remembered for his eagerness to entertain and help others, his wonderful sense of humor, his laugh, his intellect, and his deep love for his family.
Norm will be dearly missed by his wife, Becki, father and stepmother Brad & Marsha Miller, maternal grandmother Princess Smith, brothers Greg (Rachel) Miller and Patrick Miller, sister Jessica Miller, stepbrothers Travis Cook and Jeremy (Rebecca) Cook, maternal uncle Jeff (Lisa) Leggett, paternal aunt Kathy (Dale) Goodwin, his parents-in-law Dale & Carolyn Kass, sister-in-law Aimie (Matt) Finck, brothers-in-law Kyle (Kristina) Kass and Andy (Katie) Kass, and his many nieces and nephews – Joseph, Catherine, Bradly, MaKenna, Liam, Myles, Ellie, Goldie, Cevinn, Alaysia, Emeri, Nathan, Violet, Marshall, Charlie, Zoe, and Emerson, as well as numerous other friends, colleagues, and extended family.
He was preceded in death by his mother, Cynthia Leggett, paternal grandparents Norman L. & Jean Miller, maternal grandfather William Leggett, nephew Nicholas Downs, and step-grandfather Lawrence Smith.
A celebration of life will be held at the Lakeview Room of the Inn at Spring Mill State Park in Mitchell, Indiana on September 26, 2026. A memorial service will be held for friends and colleagues in the Houston area at a time and location to be determined.
In lieu of flowers or gifts, memorials in his name can be directed to the Friends of Spring Mill State Park.
Norm was just an all-around great guy; always friendly and quick of both wit and warmth. He was genuine, patient, and ready to help whenever and from whomever needed an assist. I appreciated him always picking up the phone, answering the mail, and – with a positive “I can help!” ready response any time the latest urgent call for action was issued. We’ll miss him tremendously.
Norm left his mark on the space industry and I know he would be proud of that. My heart goes out to his family and his incredible life partner, Becki. For whom his loss is immeasurable. Ad Astra.
Scott, as we called, him, was my first baby! Cindy was 5 months pregnant and my matron of honor May 26,1979. I had been her maid of honor just a few years before. They labeled him my Godson and I loved him dearly from afar every day since. Attending he and Becki’s wedding at Perdue was another joyful occasion that I will never forget and I have the pictures to prove how joyful it was. I was always so proud of hi.and Becki as they grew together. His mother, Cindy, was my best friend since childhood. I miss her terribly. I pray they are together. My heart is broken. Love and prayers from North Carolina.
A memorable soul and respected Space colleague who will be thought of long after the sadness wanes. Shared the passion of sailing and enjoyed his presence at our annual team cookouts. Peace and love to Norms family.
Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince;
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
William Shakespeare, Hamlet
Norman was a great neighbor. I remember helping him build his fence. A very thoughtful person and a great engineer. We bought our house next door to his back in 2006, just in time to see him take on numerous home improvement projects. Each one done with precision..
May God bless you and keep you Norman.
Norman,
On Saturday, August 22, 2026, Edward sent a message to the team informing us the Norman Miller has passed away the night before. My first reaction was, “Oh my God.” It was a heartbreaking and disbelief-inducing news. His passing is a tremendous shock to all of us and a great loss to the Boeing System Safety team and the Boeing ISS program as a whole.
Norm, you were more that just a great teammate-you were a genuinely kind, friendly, and wonderful person. Your warm smile and positive spirit could be seen from a mile away. Your always brought kindness and camaraderie to the team, and your presence made a difference to everyone who had the privilege of working with you.
You will be deep missed by all of us. Your contributions, friendship, and memories will remain with our team and in our hearts.
Rest in peace, Norm. May your soul rest in eternal peace. You will be never be forgotten.
With deepest sympathy and respect,
You teammate
Quan Tran
I was Norm’s manager on the ISS program. He was one of the most humble and dedicated safety engineers i have ever worked with. I did not realize how much I relied on him until he was gone. He was my right hand man and, in large part, held our team together.
My most profound and deepest sympathies go out to his family. To say he will be missed is an understatement.
Norm was a good man and I’m proud to have known him and to get to witness his dedication to his family and the manned space program. He’ll be sorely missed when a good laugh is needed during a hard job.
Norm was part of my safety team back in 2013 and 2014. Very humble, quiet individual, but a truly remarkable engineer. He was always on point with his work and with all the ins and outs of Human Spaceflight, that’s saying a lot in the safety world. As I moved on to another role, Norm became my teams focal for ISS hardware. I knew that we could always rely on Norm to keep us in check. Boeing and the ISS program will definitely miss his dedication to his craft.
After reading his obituary, I wish I had taken the time to get to know him more. He sounds like he had so many amazing outside interests and gave those as much dedication as he did his work.
Lupe Gonzales
Scott was a longtime childhood friend and fellow Scout. For those who didn’t know him back then, he was one tough man—and there was a whole lot more to him than most people ever saw.
I personally watched him fight to defend his honor at least twenty times. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost, but he stood up for himself. On one Boy Scout trip, he fell from a cliff and fractured his skull. A couple of days in the hospital, a couple of days of rest, and he was right back at it. That was Scott.
He was a big guy, but he cycled thousands of miles with me all over Southern Indiana because bicycles were our only way to get around. He always chose vintage road bikes with those super-skinny tires. I can’t count how many times he ate total shit when those tires gave out under the big man.
One day, I shaved a mohawk on his head in my bathtub. His idea, of course, and he rocked it for a while. He loved music and played bass clarinet and bass guitar. There were a lot of different sides to Scott.
He and I were pretty much a couple of country-trash kids. But you’d walk into his room, and there was a ham radio and posters of galaxies on the walls. He even had a star named after him, with a certificate and everything. I think his grandfather had bought that for him. Here was this kid riding bikes and getting into trouble with us, and he was talking about artificial intelligence in 1994. The rest of us were dumbfounded.
Scott loved his Boy Scout leaders, camping, canoeing, and just about any opportunity for shenanigans. He was also the first of us to get his license. His car was a hand-me-down Ford Taurus wagon in some shade of gold, beige, or brown. We pretty much graduated from bicycles to that wagon overnight.
All hell broke loose.
Scott was a nervous fellow, wired a little differently, and we loved to push his buttons. We went to GWAR shows, I was always dragging girls along, and the rest of us acted like complete buffoons. Through it all, Scott remained a gentleman—usually a nervous gentleman, considering his passengers, but a gentleman just the same. Looking back, he was smarter than all of us and often better behaved than we deserved.
What stays with me most is that he was always cracking jokes and smiling, even while living through a home life no kid should have had to endure. School wasn’t much of a refuge, either. At Floyd Central, he was picked on and treated like he was second-class, and he struggled there.
Eventually, he left that situation and moved in with his dad, Brad. That changed everything. With a different home and a chance to get away from the people who had made him feel small, Scott thrived. He got to reinvent himself and show what he was capable of. He truly broke the cycle.
After that came a few visits at Purdue. We went to his wedding. I visited him once in Houston. Then there were phone calls and texts scattered across the years.
And then I got the news.
It’s hard to fit a childhood friendship into a few paragraphs. There are thousands of miles, wrecked bicycle tires, Scout trips, music, that ridiculous station wagon, and memories that still make me laugh. There’s also the realization that the kid with galaxies on his bedroom walls grew up to work at NASA. Knowing where he started, that means something to me.
You will be missed, old friend—even though, in many ways, we were already missing you.