Ronald Roberts, Sr. was born in Saint Louis, Missouri and graduated from Vashon High School. He was a man of faith who was baptized at an early age. He was devoted to Christianity and looked forward to his weekly bible
study with his wife (Louise Roberts) and brother & sister-in-law (James & Karen Jackson). Ronnie was a man of very few words, but profound expression. His presence often left a lasting impression upon others. He was a man of great character, confident, resilient and possessed undeniable quiet strength. His love for family was the driving force behind all of his endeavors. He retired from Chrysler after 33 years of service where he was an active
member of the union and held an elected position for many years. Ronnie was a firm believer in the importance of property ownership, so after his retirement with Chrysler, he formed a partnership with his son, Ronald, Jr., to pursue real estate developments in the Saint Louis area.

Ronald Roberts, Sr. passed away peacefully on March 30, 2015. He is survived by his wife of 55 years, Louise Roberts; two daughters – Gwen (Chester) & Renee (Anthony); two sons – Ronald, Jr. (Myisha) & Jarrett; three grand-daughters – Tracey (Richie), Ashley & Taylor; four grandsons – Sean, Ronald, Asa & Ashton; and many siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins and friends whom he loved dearly.

God’s Minute.
I’ve only just a minute,
Only sixty seconds in it.
Forced upon me, can’t refuse it,
Didn’t seek it, didn’t choose it,
But it’s up to me to use it.
I must suffer if I lose it,
Give an account if I abuse it,
Just a tiny little minute,
But eternity is in it.
– Dr. Benjamin E. Mays.

The quality of a father can be seen in the
goals, dreams and aspirations he sets not only
for himself, but for his family.
– Reed Markam.

If.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
– Rudyard Kipling.