He'd joined the club in the 1950s to start off his Burnley career and when he retired in 1996 he'd spent all but just over three years, between 1983 and 1986, at Turf Moor as office boy, player, captain, coach, manager on two occasions and finally chief scout.
He was the first of the championship team of 1959/60 season to leave us, a man who had been dubbed 'Mr Burnley' by so many.
It's an understatement to say that Brian saw the highs and lows of the club. In 1960 he was the left half in the title winning team. He played in all 42 games that season, scoring three goals, and in total made 455 league and cup appearance, scoring a total of 37 goals.
The first of them was in the long running FA Cup tie against Chelsea in 1956 and his last appearance came at Villa Park in the league game following our Fairs Cup exit to Eintracht Frankfurt. He suffered a ruptured anterior cruciate ligament that ended his playing career just three months past his 30th birthday.
If the title was the high then the end of the 1986/87 season was the low. He'd returned to the club at the start of that season for his second spell as manager and couldn't believe what he saw when he walked back in, such was the deterioration at the club both on and off the field.
It ended with the Orient game and I remain certain he was the calmest person around Turf Moor that day ahead of the game. He certainly was with his television interviews although I'm sure he was feeling the tension just as much as the rest of us were.
He formally retired as chief scout in 1996 and then took his place in the stand as a supporter until the short illness in 2007 saw him spend his last days in hospital.
In April 2007 a small collection of photographs relating to Brian, or Dusty as he was known to his team mates, were published on Clarets Mad, but were lost during the time of the redesign of the site.
Today, however, those photographs are back, and rightly so, for a man who, no matter how you define the word, was a true Burnley FC legend.
Brian Miller, an extraordinary one club man, the likes of which we are unlikely to see again.