July 14, 2026

By Jim Towey

From time to time, I profile individuals who embody what aging with dignity means.

So, meet Ron Sibila, age 94. Last week, I had lunch with him at a diner just outside of Canton, Ohio.

What I know of his life story comes from the many times we have broken bread together over the course of the last 10 years. He and his wife, Jane, often came to Southwest Florida to visit their grandkids, Noah and Sarah Miller, both of whom attended and graduated from Ave Maria University during the time I was president. My first impression of Ron and Jane was how down-to-earth they were. No bells or whistles or pretenses. They were no nonsense, sincere, serious, and also ready to laugh if you gave them reason to.

A love story, a war story

Ron was a little over a year older than Jane. They first met in grade school and eventually they both enrolled at Ohio University in Athens. Once, Ron took out Jane’s roommate, but Jane, the very independent type, was not to be deterred. When a Sadie Hawkins dance rolled around, she asked Ron out. Their love for each other grew and they married in 1954, a development which cut short Jane’s studies in chemical engineering.

That year, Ron enlisted in the Air Force. Over the course of his three-year commitment, he trained as a pilot and would fly over 1,000 hours on missions, often doing 20-hour stints in the cockpit in sensitive airborne surveillance over the Pacific amid the tensions of the Cold War. He proudly showed me a photo hanging in his house of the plane he once piloted.  Such planes back then were very basic – and loud. The permanent damage this did to his hearing serves as a daily reminder of the price he paid to serve our country.

Ron and Jane had five children – three girls and two boys (which blossomed to 13 grandchildren and eight greats). Jane freely admitted that she was a strict mom when her children were young, but her maternal methods were vindicated by how well all five turned out. I am fortunate to know Linda, the mother of Noah and Sarah. Linda and her husband Dave had four children of their own and also adopted two more.

A beautiful family

I got to know Noah and Sarah well enough to see the truth that good kids and grandkids don’t just happen. They are shepherded. Parents reap what they sow. Almost all the problems in society today can be traced back to parental neglect of children during their formative years.

But back to Ron. There is a proverb that says, “Work fears the busy man.” Well, work was afraid of Ron Sibila. At age 16, long before he was in the cockpit of a jet, he was seated in the cab of a semi-truck (and on Thursday, he insisted on driving his car to the diner!). He told me that he still has a commercial driver’s license, but he quickly added, “I haven’t driven a truck in years.”

A strong business legacy

Ron’s early career in moving and storage shifted gears into public warehousing. He took the family business his dad had built and grew it dramatically before handing the keys of operations to Doug, his son. I met him once and he seemed as driven as his dad. Through a series of acquisitions, the company has diversified and become a supply chain innovator.  What was once Peoples Services is now Total Distribution Services. TDS now operates a network of over 70 warehouses in eight states. Many of the Sibila lineal descendants help it thrive.

Prosperity didn’t spoil Ron and Jane. The home Ron has now is the same one they had for over 40 years. Their strong Catholic faith and quiet devotion are what united them during 69 years of marriage. Jane privately related to me that she had read the Bible from start to finish 29 times, an astonishing feat. Their shared devotion to Mary, the mother of Jesus, once sent them on a pilgrimage to a shrine in Fatima, in Portugal, to honor her.

Jane went home to God almost three years ago, and Ron has missed her every day since. Work still fears Ron. He remains engaged with the business he helped build. His continued philanthropy is an expression of his deep love for God. He handles his current medical issues with the toughness of a retired Air Force aviator. He delights in his family, and they, in turn, dote on him. This dynamic surely explains his long life. Even though he no longer plays golf (he tallied three holes-in-one in his playing days), he stays busy.

He told me at lunch, “I’ve had a great life.”

True that. And there’s more to come.

(The views expressed herein are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Aging with Dignity and/or its Board of Directors.)