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A Legacy of Love: Miles, Mental Health, and the Movement He Sparked

Memorial notes pinned to a tree read "Miles Hall, Walnut Creek, 06-02-2019" with a green ribbon, and "George Floyd," against a blurred leafy backdrop.

When we talk about mental illness in this country, the words often get lost in shadows. Wrapped in stigma, softened by euphemisms, hidden behind silence. But behind every quiet whisper is a real story — one marked by love, fear, resilience, and, too often, tragedy.




Protesters march in Civic Park holding signs reading "Walnut Creek Police Murdered Miles Hall" and "Queers for BLM." The mood is serious.

The grief that followed could have swallowed his family whole. But instead, it became something bigger.


From the front yard where Miles last walked, a movement was born. A mother and father’s heartbreak turned into a rallying cry — not just for justice, but for change. Neighbors came out of their homes. Strangers became allies. Volunteers showed up in droves, offering time, skills, and open hands. This wasn’t just the story of what happened to Miles. It became a story of what a community could become in his name.

Scott and Taun Hall, Mile's parents are standing in front of the news stations for a Press Release with Justice for Miles signs around them.

There was no script to follow. No manual for how to mourn a son while demanding justice. But from that silence rose a chorus — of neighbors, friends, strangers, all refusing to let Miles be reduced to another headline.


They showed up. With signs, with tears, with open arms. They painted murals, passed laws, and formed circles of healing. What started as Justice for Miles Hall has grown into a foundation that fights for care over criminalization, love over fear, and community over isolation.


That fight — that beautiful, defiant refusal to look away — has always been made possible by people. Not just professionals or experts. People with full hearts and tired hands who knew they had something to give.


In the years since, the Foundation has quietly expanded its reach. We’ve piloted therapy support programs, mentored youth through community summits, and advocated for 988 and other non-police mental health responses. This year alone, our Play for Miles Golf Event reminded us how joy and remembrance can coexist — how laughter can still echo alongside loss.


But behind every initiative is a force even more powerful than policy: community.


The ones who offered their time. Who stayed after events to stack chairs. Who dropped off snacks, made phone calls, crafted newsletters, and listened — truly listened — to the hard stories. You didn’t just help.

You held the weight of this mission.


And as we continue forward, your hands are still needed.

Nobody Cares About Crazy People Movie Screening

Nobody Cares About Crazy People documentary poster.

This month, on October 12th, 2025, as we prepare and gather to watch and discuss the film, Nobody Cares About Crazy People, that same spirit of action and awareness continues. The film invites us into a deeper conversation — not just about the system that failed Miles, but about the countless others whose struggles remain unseen. It challenges us to look closely. To feel. To understand. This is a stirring documentary that lays bare the brutal gaps in our mental health system. The title alone stings. But we know better.


We know people care. We’ve seen it — in every vigil, every petition, every mile walked in Miles’ name. In you.


As the film brings new eyes to the story, it also brings fresh momentum. If you’ve ever felt a tug in your chest, a quiet what can I do? whispering inside you — now is the time to lean in. This movement is still being shaped, not by heroes, but by ordinary people with extraordinary heart.


6th Annual Miles for Miles Turkey Trot


And as the leaves fall and the season turns, we look ahead to Thanksgiving — and our 6th annual Miles for Miles Turkey Trot. Each step walked is a story carried forward. A declaration that even in grief, we move. Even in absence, we gather.


Whether you walk alone or form a team, whether you sponsor TMHF or invite a neighbor to join — you become part of a legacy rooted in compassion. This virtual event has become a powerful thread weaving us together from every corner of the country. It’s not about pace or distance. It’s about presence.


Black Lives Matter sign on a telephone pole along with a sign titled, "Miles was here"

Miles’ life mattered. His story continues not in monuments, but in motion. In the way we show up. In the way we remember. In the way we love, even when it’s hard.


If this movement has ever touched you — even if just through these words — we invite you to carry it forward. Not because you must. But because, like so many others before you, you can.



If you’ve felt moved by Miles’ story, or by the quiet revolution taking root in his name, we invite you to become part of the legacy he left behind. Whether it’s a one-time donation, a monthly gift, or sharing a skill — design, writing, organizing, outreach — your support helps us create a world where mental illness is met with compassion, not criminalization.


This work has always been powered by love, grief, and community. It’s never too late to add your voice.






Together, we can keep Miles' memory alive — not in stillness, but in movement. Not in silence, but in impact.

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