If you knew Dr. James Ronald “Ron” Salley, you knew a steady light. He slipped from our hands on October 31, 2025, in Albuquerque, New Mexico, after a brave season with throat cancer, and the world feels a little quieter without his calm good sense and kind eyes. He was 85.

Ron’s story begins on November 10, 1939, in Belvidere, Illinois, where the rhythm of a dairy farm taught him what responsibility feels like in your bones. Cattle and pigs needed tending. Mornings arrived early. Work was done right the first time. At Belvidere High School he carried those lessons into every hallway and classroom, serving as president of the Future Farmers of America, lettering in track, and framing moments behind a yearbook camera. He graduated among the top ten students in his class and received the Funderberg Award for academic excellence, leadership, and character, a tidy trio that would echo through the rest of his life.

Curiosity and discipline led him to the University of Illinois at Urbana–Champaign, where he earned a bachelor’s, a master’s, and a doctorate in civil engineering by 1966. He led the student chapter of the American Society of Civil Engineers, was inducted into Tau Beta Pi and Chi Epsilon, and later taught in Harvard’s Special Studies Series. Never one to stop learning, he added an executive MBA from Washington University in St. Louis, folding management and mentorship into his already wide toolkit.

Ron served his country as a Captain in the United States Air Force at Kirtland Air Force Base in New Mexico. As a project engineer in the Air Force Weapons Laboratory, he worked on major research and development efforts and consulted in Vietnam, Korea, and Thailand. He brought the same clear mind and steady hands he learned on the farm to everything he touched, and he carried that integrity with him when he returned to civilian life.

In 1969 he joined Shannon and Wilson, Inc., beginning a 31 year chapter with one of the nation’s leading geotechnical and environmental engineering firms. He helped shepherd the company from a 40 person regional practice to a 300 person national leader. His path took him from San Francisco to St. Louis and finally to Seattle, where he served as President, CEO, and President of a geophysical subsidiary. Along the way he oversaw more than 2,000 projects, from foundations and tunnels to landslide stabilization, dam engineering, and seismic studies for power plants. He led with technical excellence and a genuine respect for the people around him, the kind of leader who listened first and lifted others as he stepped forward.

Service was Ron’s way of moving through the world. He poured time and heart into Rotary International in San Francisco, St. Louis, Seattle, and Albuquerque. He was a two time Paul Harris Fellow, honored often for his steady presence, including the Quiet Leader Award in 2013. Church life grounded him too. He served as deacon, elder, and committee chair, guiding with a gentle hand and a faithful heart.

Retirement did not slow him so much as reframe the work. In Albuquerque he became an energetic part of the Military Officers Association of America Ski Club, serving as Vice President and coordinating ski trips and charitable events. He approached every role with the same preparation, humility, and quiet humor that defined his character throughout his life.

Ron is survived by his beloved wife of 57 years, Sharon, and by their daughters Jennifer, Katherine, and Christine, along with his six grandchildren. At home he was simply husband and dad, a man who measured his days in conversations in the living room, long looks at mountains, and the quiet satisfaction of a job done well.

A celebration of life will be held at a later date. In lieu of flowers, the family invites donations to a charity of your choice in Ron’s memory, honoring his lifelong devotion to education, service, and community.

Those who walked beside him will remember a man whose strength was quiet, whose generosity was unforced, and whose leadership was measured by the lives he touched. In the tapestry of family and work and town and church, Ron was the steady thread. And steady threads do not vanish. They hold. They keep shape. They remind us that the good we do, the people we lift, and the promises we keep are the legacy we leave.