The Baking Legend and Hero Who Taught Me How To Bake Bread

Leo Istas: The Heart and Soul of Estis Bakery in Miller, South Dakota, my “Great Scott!”
I’ll never forget, “Great Scott!” He yelled, upon my entrance to work every morning at 4:30 am sharp!
Every morning in 1978-79, as the screen door of Estis Bakery slammed shut behind me at 4:30 a.m., Leo Istas’ booming voice would echo through the warm, yeast-scented air: “Great Scott!” It was a phrase that became synonymous with the man himself, a battle cry if you will – for a jolly, larger-than-life figure who turned flour, water, and yeast into edible artistry at Estis Bakery in Miller, South Dakota. Leo, who passed away on June 22, 2019, at the age of 95, was more than a baker; he was a mentor, a war hero, and a community cornerstone whose legacy still lingers in the golden crusts and sweet memories of the many visitors who where fortunate enough to make it to Miller, South Dakota.
Early Life and a Passion for Baking
Born on November 5, 1923, in Marshall, Minnesota, to Dora (LaPolice) and Charles Istas, Leo’s love for baking began early. By sixth grade, he was already working in a Marshall bakery, learning the craft that would define much of his life. After graduating from Marshall High School in 1941, Leo’s path took a heroic turn when he enlisted in the Navy flight program in June 1942.
A Hero in the Skies
Leo’s courage soared beyond the bakery. Commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps in September 1943, he graduated from Pensacola Flight School and piloted the thunderous Corsair in the South Pacific with Marine Squadron VMF 313.

Promoted to 1st Lieutenant in 1944, Leo’s bravery shone on December 11, 1944, when he skillfully skipped a bomb across the ocean to sink an enemy ship bombing General MacArthur’s forces. For this act, he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross,

a testament to his valor. Discharged in November 1945, Leo returned home a hero, ready to knead his next chapter into the dough of civilian life.
Building a Legacy at Estis Bakery
In 1946, Leo and his brother opened a bakery in Madison, South Dakota, before expanding to Miller on October 15, 1951, founding Istas Miller Bakery—later known as Estis Bakery and Cafe. Alongside his wife, Delores (Deide) Gussler, whom he married on May 3, 1965, Leo turned the bakery into a beloved institution. In 1963, they opened the Driftwood Café, further cementing their place in Miller’s heart. For nearly 50 years, until the businesses were sold on September 15, 2001, Leo and Delores filled the town with the aromas of fresh bread, hand-twisted donuts, homemade peanut brittle, cookies, soups, and pies.
As a young worker in 1978-79, I witnessed Leo’s magic firsthand. He’d heave 65-pound tubs of dough onto the table, his white apron stretched over his stocky frame, and transform raw ingredients into golden peaks of bread that rose like mountains in the steam room. The bakery was a symphony of bubbling oil for frying donuts, trays of raised rolls, and the ever-present scent of yeast. Leo’s mantra, “Great Scott!” wasn’t just a catchphrase—it was a celebration of hard work, commitment, and integrity, lessons he instilled in me and countless others who passed through his doors.
A Family Man and Community Leader
Leo and Delores adopted three daughters—Sherri (1967), Shirley (Casandra, 1970), and Tamera (1970)—building a family as warm as the bakery’s ovens. A devoted member of St. Ann’s Catholic Church, Leo served as a 4th Degree Knight with the Knights of Columbus and was active in the American Legion, VFW, Disabled Veterans of America, and Marine Corps League. His community spirit shone through in every loaf he baked and every conversation he shared over coffee.
Final Farewell to a Miller Legend
Leo Istas passed away on June 22, 2019, at Southridge Healthcare in Sioux Falls, leaving behind a legacy that Miller will never forget.
A Lasting Impact
The corner of Miller where Estis Bakery stood hasn’t been the same since Leo and Delores sold it. To his friends, family, and the Miller community, we extend heartfelt thanks for the visits, coffee, meals, and memories that kept Leo’s spirit bright. His lessons of hard work and integrity, learned in those early mornings amid the scent of fresh bread, shaped me into the man I am today. Leo Istas wasn’t just a baker or a war hero—he was a true “Great Scott,” a Black Sheep among great men whose legacy rises like dough in the hearts of all who knew him.
I’d never heard anyone call me “Great Scott!” before Leo, and I will never forget how he yelled it out every morning upon my arrival.
The term “Great Scott” likely originated in the mid-19th century United States as an exclamation of surprise, wonder, or emphasis. Its exact origins are uncertain, but the most widely accepted theory points to General Winfield Scott, a prominent American military figure. Scott was a celebrated hero of the Mexican-American War (1846–1848) and a towering figure in U.S. military history, known for his larger-than-life presence (he was 6’5″ and weighed over 200 pounds). His name became a fashionable way to express amazement, much like invoking a notable figure’s name for emphasis.
The phrase first appeared in print around the 1850s. For example, an 1856 issue of The Knickerbocker magazine used “Great Scott!” in a humorous context, suggesting it was already a familiar expression. By the 1870s, it was common in American newspapers, often as a mild oath or interjection. Some sources, like The Phrase Finder, note its use in 1871 in The Galaxy magazine, where it appeared as a euphemistic alternative to stronger oaths like “Great God.”
Other theories exist but are less substantiated. One suggests a connection to Scottish immigrants or a generic reference to “Scott” as a stand-in for a notable person. Another, less likely theory ties it to Sir Walter Scott, the Scottish novelist, though no evidence supports this. The phrase’s popularity surged in the 20th century, notably in pop culture, with characters like Doc Brown in Back to the Future (1985) using it to iconic effect, cementing its place in modern vernacular.
No definitive evidence ties “Great Scott” to one source, but Winfield Scott remains the most plausible origin due to his fame and the phrase’s timing. It’s a classic example of a minced oath, softening a potentially blasphemous expression for polite use.










