Andrew Meacham
Justo Cortes had already been through the kinds of ups and downs that make or break a career – and aced every test – when a dream project came his way.
His son, who owned a towing company in Altamonte Springs and had his eye on politics, had found a car with his dad’s name on it. To be sure, the 1971 Chevrolet Monte Carlo didn’t look like a prize in 2006.
Fast-forward 18 months, and a father and son have turned the once-luxurious sedan into a mint-green emerald.
Cortes, who turned hard work and curiosity into a successful business, spreading humor and wisdom along the way, died Saturday of Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, a rare brain condition. He was 84.
“My dad was a simple guy,” said former state Rep. Bob Cortes. “A super-honest family man who raised his children the best way he could with an eighth grade education.”
He never let obstacles stop him, believing he had the tools to handle most situations.
“He was a very smart, articulate guy,” his son said. “There was never a time when I could ask my dad a question and he didn’t have an answer that made sense.”
Bob Cortes was elected to the State House in 2014. He served until 2018, representing parts of Seminole and Orange counties.
Justo Ramon Cortes was born Jan. 2, 1940, in Ponce, Puerto Rico, the eldest of three children. At age 16 he moved to Brooklyn with his mother, both seeking gainful work. Justo found it at ABC Textile, learning to cut patterns into cloth. He started dating a co-worker, Hugolina Roman, who had made a similar trek from Puerto Rico.
A romance grew, and Justo and Hugolina were married on July 9, 1959. They had three children.
“From him, I learned to always be prepared,” his son said. “To be an honest person. Honor whatever contract or word you give somebody.”
He was big on living within his means and taking reasonable risks. “Choose the battles you can win,” his son said, “and don’t spend too much energy on those you can’t.”
He applied that principle by returning to Puerto Rico in the 1970s, which had less crime than New York and had become more industrialized. He started his own textile business, which flourished until he retired in the late 1990s at age 58.
He moved to Florida, and to stay busy worked in his son’s tow yard. He kept the mood light, always ready with a joke.
Cortes believed in being on a first-name basis with almost anyone he saw regularly. The cashier at Costco. The pharmacist who filled his prescriptions.
He preached frugality and waited until retirement before getting his first credit card. He spent only one currency freely: “Candy money.”
His grandchildren knew what that meant.
“The grandkids used to say, ‘Hey Grandpa, got any candy money?’” his son said. “Of course, Grandpa was already prepared with cash in hand to give. Anywhere from a $20 bill to sometimes a $50 bill.”
It was during his father’s extended retirement when the younger Cortes discovered the Monte Carlo.
Chevrolet designed the mid-sized sedan, a response to Ford’s Thunderbird and its own Camaro. But unlike those models, the Monte Carlo was all about comfort and understated class, a car designed to look more expensive than it was.
The elder Cortes and his son enjoyed bringing out the hidden sheen beneath decades of rust and dust. As a bonus, Justo Cortes entered the finished product in a restoration contest and won a Best in Show award.
Another high point came several years later when Cortes attended his son’s swearing-in ceremony. “For a kid coming out of a small town in Puerto Rico, where opportunities were not readily available back then, to see one of his children sworn in as a member of the House of Representatives was for him the proudest moment of his life,” Rep. Cortes said. “And for him to be there was one of the proudest moments in mine that I will never forget.”
A downturn in his mobility, notably his balance, began around 2016. Doctors eventually diagnosed Progressive Supranuclear Palsy (PSP); a rare neurological disorder sometimes misdiagnosed as Parkinson’s. Iconic rock singer Linda Ronstadt, for example, was told she had Parkinson’s in 2013.
The diagnosis changed several years later to PSP.
As his symptoms worsened, Cortes suffered injuries in falls and found it increasingly more challenging to eat and drink. He moved in with his son and was eventually placed on a feeding tube. He had to depend on others more than ever before.
“That was really hard on him, but he never complained,” his son said.
Folks around town continued to ask about him. At the drug store or Costco, Bob Cortes said: “They’d say, ‘Hey, how is Justo doing?’ He loved meeting people and planted a little bit of himself in other people.
“Now, there is a big void in our hearts,” he added. “Especially mine.”
Toward the end of the 2024 Legislative Session, Gov. Ron DeSantis approved the Justo R. Cortes Progressive Supranuclear Palsy Act. Among other things, the act establishes a committee to determine the number of cases of PSP and other neurodegenerative diseases in Florida and develop recommendations through the state Surgeon General.
Justo Cortes is survived by his wife of 65 years, Hugolina; a daughter, Yvonne Oliveras; sons, Jamie Cortes and Robert “Bob” Cortes; sister, Lydia Dominicci; brother, Robert Cortes; eight grandchildren; 18 great-grandchildren; and two great-great-grandchildren.
A celebration of life begins at 2 p.m. Oct. 15 at Northland Church, 522 Dog Track Road, Longwood.
