Allowing for a pause of personal privilege, and before I go too far, may I say this is not so much a news story as it is a love letter to a man I and scores of others proudly called ‘friend.’
To anyone who has been around Denver, the name Ron Montoya rings loud and clear. It’s a name that, most often, is preceded with a smile and a superlative, usually a few of each.
Montoya passed away over the weekend. A number of friends who saw him before the news of his passing reached them were both saddened and shocked. Montoya was the guy they knew, liked, and loved. ‘Oh, no!’ It was a lament echoed across the city, the state and across the country for so many.
While Montoya was a successful businessman and entrepreneur—he was one of the founding members of Lakewood’s Solera Bank—he was so much more. In fact, had he simply been a businessman, that would have been enough. But that barely scratches the surface on such a charming and accomplished man.
Ron Montoya’s story is an American story. Growing up with only a father—his mother died when he was not yet in school—he defied the odds, not only graduating from high school at a time when one did not need a high school diploma to join the middle class but went on to college. Years later, he decided to set the bar higher earning a law degree, working days and attending classes at night. That was Ron.
As a businessman, Montoya was a success. Two companies, PlastiComm Industries and Innov8 Solutions USA, were leaders in telecommunications and electrical products. He was lauded on both state and national levels for each.
But business was only part of the ball game, he told the publication Coloradobiz. His success was also constructed by what he did away from the office.
“The first thing I do (each day) is join some friends for coffee. Then I come to work where everyone around me is a friend,” he said. Among those friends were also a number of clients. His friends’ list also included Governors, congressmen and women, business leaders and countless others, blue collared, no-collared and those with priestly collars. He was a dedicated member of Denver’s Saint Cajetan Catholic Church.
But to Montoya, success wasn’t what was reflected ‘on the books.’ Countless other things not there were every bit as important, not the least of which were family, friends and causes.
Montoya was married to wife Naomi who passed away in 2024. The pair had two sons, one of whom also passed away. He is survived by son, Ron Jr., a daughter-in-law and grandchildren.
Montoya’s legacy is filled with accolades for his business acumen, civic engagement and philanthropy. No cause that he believed in, he said, was insignificant. Whatever it may have been, he did it for its importance, how it would help others and not its reflection on him.
As résumés go, Montoya’s was platinum. Besides running two successful businesses, he served under Colorado Governor Roy Romer as Directory of Economic Business and served on a number of boards including the Latin American Educational Foundation, both the Denver and United States Hispanic Chambers of Commerce, also once serving as Chairman of the USHCC. The list is both impressive and exhausting. Montoya was also awarded an honorary doctorate from the University of Colorado, his alma mater.
But Montoya, while impressive in countless circles across the state and country, was so much more than a civic leader and businessman.
“He did not think about himself,” said former Denver Mayor Wellington Webb, a longtime friend. In fact, said the Mayor, “Ron was responsible for more than 80 percent of minority businesses at Denver International Airport,” almost all of which he helped select.
In a phone interview in which he was informed of Montoya’s passing, Webb recounted one of Montoya’s most touching gestures. “Ron and others put together a black tie and prom night” many years later for a longtime friend who could not attend her own prom. “That was the kind of person Ron Montoya was.”
“He was the most compassionate, thoughtful and committed individual I have known,” said former Denver Mayor and Presidential Cabinet member Federico Peña. “He was always willing to contribute time and money to important causes…a dear friend and I’ll miss him.” Pena said Montoya was one of the first people he met when he relocated to Denver in 1973. “We used to play basketball together.”
Two Denver city council members, both friends and sometimes political adversaries, Ramona Martinez and Debbie Ortega, also recalled their friend.
For Martinez, Montoya was a legendary figure in so many ways. He had “core values that resonated with commitment, his wisdom, advice and love for his community,” said the former City Council president. Martinez said she planned to see him in a few days. That meeting’s been cancelled. His memory, she sighed, will live on. “He brought joy to others.”
“He was dedicated…a true Latino leader who was involved in everything,” said Ortega. His passing, the longtime city government leader lamented, “is a huge loss.”
Despite his involvement in so many boards and causes, from the Chamber of Commerce to the Museo de las Americas to his church, Ortega said he was uniformly kind and respectful. You did not need to be influential, she said. He was just “a gracious human being to everybody.”
My own remembrance of Ron Montoya is simple. Each time we crossed paths over the years—too many to count—he was the same warm, genial and humble man. He laughed, told stories, was engaged and interesting. And no matter when or where we met, he never failed to pick up the check. He insisted on it.
As I’m certain is the thought today by so many people when thinking about Ron, ‘I should have picked up the phone and called…I’ll apologize for my neglect next time I see him.’
Adios Ron Montoya. You left so much more than you ever knew. Travel well.
