The following newspaper article was found in the Daughters of Utah Pioneers Museum's file for pioneer John Miller. Unfortunately the clipping didn't include the newspaper's name nor the date it was published (a Salt Lake City newspaper, sometime in the 1930's):

NINE PIONEER CHILDREN CROSS PLAINS ALONE AFTER CHOLERA KILLS PARENTS
"Nine pioneer children orphaned when cholera snuffed out the lives of their parents at St. Louis, crossed the plains alone in 1850, and the youngest of them, John Miller, 950 Washington street, the only one living, told yesterday in connection with the "Covered Wagon Days" celebration, of the hardships and privations of that courageous little family.
"We'd only been away from Scotland a short time," he said, "and were strangers in a strange country. I was a baby of two and my oldest sister, Mary Miller Easton had just been married. Our whole train of emigrants had camped for the winter when cholera broke out, and within nine days, mother, father, and two (of my) brothers had succumbed to it. When father died there weren't any more coffins in camp, and (we) tore down an old hog pen, nailed the planks in the shape of a box, wrapped the body in a blanket, and buried it. It was all we could do.
"Somehow we made our way across to Utah the next year, and all found work of some kind to keep ourselves alive. Among my earliest recollections is working down in the old adobe yard when I was just old enough to turn over the adobes. And in the grasshopper plague of 1855, I remember gleaning the fields after the insects had gone and getting only three sacks of heads which we threshed with a flail and fanned with the help of the wind.
"We ate Indian potatoes, segoes, seed onions and even thistles during those years. We'd take a thistle stalk, trim off all of the leaves, pull the skin from it, and eat what was left. It was crumpy and puckery, and left our mouths black. We couldn't even wait for the crops to ripen, but would begin eating them as soon as a spot or corner was at all ripe. Robbing the bumble bees of their honey bag while they were poised on a thistle flower was another way to get food, too. Afterwards, we would search for the four little honey cells we knew were hidden in the ground.

Army Blessing.
"During the severe winter of 1858 we were forced to go to bed to keep from freezing to death. My heels were frozen, and became swollen and raw with sores as big as dollars on them. Johnston's army was a blessing in disguise, as they bought food and clothing from us, and many of our men got contracts to haul wood and build adobe houses for them.
"In 1860 I went to Riverdale, near Ogden, to live. One day I walked all the way to Salt Lake to get some bedding, and walked back the same day. I used to haul salt to the tithing offices to pay for my tithing. It was about six inches deep on the banks of the lake, and we scooped it up with a shovel. It was valued at four dollars a ton. The lake was lower then than it has ever been, except perhaps at the present time. I drove from Riverdale to the city right along the lake bottoms, and the lake was a good deal west even then. Church cattle were driven safely over to Antelope island to graze. All one needed when fording was a pair of hip boots.

Pull Prank.
"One day I was driving to Salt Lake with a pair of old yellow stags that just wouldn't move along with any speed at all. When I'd lay a whip on them, they'd dodge the blow. In desperation, when I reached the Warm Springs at the edge of town, I stepped those stags in the water. It was hot, hot enough to take the skin off, and you can bet they set out for town at a good pace then.
"In 1863 I hired out to drive a team for the Overland company. There were thirty wagons in our train. On a calm day in June, we drove down into Canyon station, between Deed Creek and Willow Springs, to find a most horrible sight. A band of Indians had closed in on the station, tied Riley, the keeper, to a towering pile of brush and burned him, and then set fire to the buildings. The whole station was in smoldering ruins when we arrived.
"One year, about '64 it was, I think, I worked for the Sharp Brothers hauling rock from Beaver to Salt Lake. En route I became sick with the measles, lay for several days in wet bedding, and was nursed back to health by a Mrs. Bowman. When I recovered, I had five dollars, a blanket, and a little bread and milk. I walked all the way to Beaver in six days, and Indian fashion. I arrived with both the money and the blanket.

Trucked to Montana.
"In the following years I trucked to Montana and Utah's Dixie at various intervals, and volunteered my services in the Black Hawk Indian War. I was stationed in Sanpete county when Sergeant Heber Houtz and Major John W. Vance were killed by Indians at Twelve Mile creek, and I helped drag their bodies from the stream.
"I remember, too, when the redskins shot Johnny Haye in the temple as he sat guarding the Gunnison lime kiln. He died instantly, and we buried him there, erecting a monument which still stands.
"In later years I hauled wood and carried water for the Southern Pacific camps, and fuel for engine firing. I helped build canals and cellars here in Salt Lake, and worked with the crew that drained the whole western part of the city.
"In May, 1868, I married Mary Emily Priday. I'd courted her for four years. We had good times in those days, too. We went sleigh riding and saw plays at the old Salt Lake Theater, and gave dances that lasted all night. Mrs. Miller died in 1924.
"Seven of our ten children are living, three sons, Charles, William, Thomas, and four daughters, Mrs. (Martha) Woodring, Mrs. Victoria McGoogan, Mrs. Pearl Mosby, and Mrs. Ruth Underwood."

Obituary, found in the Daughters of Utah Pioneers Museum's file for pioneer John Miller. Unfortunately the clipping didn't include the newspaper's name nor the date it was published (1939):

OX-CART PIONEER LIVED 89 YEARS IN Utah
"Final respects to John Miller, 93, participant in most of Utah's early history and an Indian war veteran, will be paid at funeral services in the Thirtieth Ward Chapel, 1068 Jefferson Street tomorrow at 2 p.m. Bishop Oswald C. Hardman will be in charge. Friends may call at the family residence, 950 Washington Street, tomorrow from 10 a.m. until 1:30 p.m. Pallbearers will be six great-grandsons of Mr. Miller. Interment will be in City Cemetery.
"He was left an orphan at the age of two when his parents died while crossing the plains on their way to Utah. Two brothers of the family of 11 children and parents who left Scotland for Utah in 1848, also died. With the other surviving eight children, Mr. Miller, the youngest, came to Utah in an ox cart in 1850. He often related the trials of his childhood life when he walked barefoot from Riverdale to Beaver to get food, and how he ate wild sego lily bulbs, red roots and thistle greens when no other food was available. He also told how, when he was a young man, he worked making adobes to get wheat and corn to eat.
"Later, he was a contractor, excavating foundations for some of the first buildings to be build in Salt Lake. He was also an Indian war veteran of the Blackhawk campaign.
"In Mr. Miller's life of 89 years in Salt Lake Valley, he had grown up with transportation facilities of the West. He drove ox team, horses, rode in the first trains to cross the plains, and also had ridden in a modern transport plane.
"He was born in Ruther Glen, Scotland, Nov. 22, 1846, a son of Charles S. and Mary McGowan Miller. His wife, Mary Emily Priday, whom he married May 15, 1868 in the Salt Lake Endowment House, died March 21, 1924. From this union, 10 children were born:
"Surviving Mr. Miller are six children: Charles John Miller of Ogden, William James Miller of Salt Lake, Thomas S. P. Miller of St. George, Mrs. W. W. Mosby of Cheyenne, Wyo., Mrs. W. H. Woodring and Mrs. C. J. Underwood, both of Salt Lake; also 16 grandchildren, 40 great-grandchildren and eight great-great grandchildren."