Ulysses J. Montgomery

If you happened to be driving down Route 611 in Abington over the last few years, you would have seen him - a dapper elderly gentleman walking with a pace and purpose that defied the calendar, and navigating his path with a quiet independence. Neighbors would offer him a lift, but those rides were politely declined. Reaching his destination with his own two feet was non-negotiable - a fitting metaphor for a life lived entirely on his own terms.

Born February 16, 1927, in Elizabeth, New Jersey, Ulysses “Jim” Montgomery was the son of Pauline Hilton and James Montgomery, raised by his mother and stepfather, Theodore Ruth in Queens, New York, and was educated in New York and New Jersey public schools. Service in the U.S. Army during World War II ignited a fascination with infrastructure, leading him to Columbia University where he pledged Omega Psi Phi Fraternity Incorporated, Gamma Chapter, on June 8, 1950. He then enrolled at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), graduating in 1952.

Jim was an engineer in more ways than one. His career spanned the globe, from road and bridge projects in Nigeria and Saudi Arabia, to pioneering housing cooperatives in San Francisco. In the late 60’s to 70’s he helped community groups sponsor and own nearly 1500 units of housing and secure finance support with government backed subsidies and funding. Fighting for Black empowerment through stability and generational wealth of his people was his calling, to the point of forgoing his own comfort to ensure his community had a place to call home. Even as a nonagenarian, he kept his California civil engineering license active, paying his dues annually just in case the world needed him to engineer one more solution.

He had experiences that would break most people. In 1975, he met his beloved wife Groslyn Montgomery, and moved her and her son Juqueile to Nigeria. There, he operated a construction firm, where a governmental collapse and sudden uprising forced him, his wife, and young children to flee into the cover of night. That protective, fierce devotion to his family defined him: cool and reserved in temperament, but fierce when those he loved were in harm’s way.

He deeply loved his family and worked tirelessly to provide for them. After the passing of his beloved wife, Groslyn, he remained steadfast in his commitment to ensuring that his daughter was supported and secure. In 1999, he returned to San Francisco, a city that held a special place in his heart, where he spent the next two decades enjoying the life and community he cherished.

In 2020, after much persuasion, Jim agreed to move closer to his daughter and grandchildren. True to form, however, he made it abundantly clear: he would live near them - but certainly not with them. His independence was legendary, as was his love for his grandchildren. Spending time teaching and talking to them was his greatest joy. A man of business to the end, he was rarely seen without a suit and hat. He was always prepared to discuss construction, investing, building wealth and community empowerment.

When he wasn’t teaching or traveling, he lived a simple life at home. While some saw him as a pack-rat, he viewed himself as a collector. From bits of wood gathered from his travels that were eventually transformed into handcrafted furniture, to empty Little Debbie boxes that served as raw materials for intricate model houses, he found potential and purpose in everything and everyone. Even the earth held his attention. Whether managing a tilapia farm in Jamaica or planting fruit trees with his niece Tammy in California, he cultivated anything that could take root.

Any child in his orbit could expect to be educated and grilled about their future.“What do you want to be when you grow up?”, or “Do you have a plan?” were standard greetings, usually followed by a discussion where he’d help them figure out how to finance that dream. And there was always the math lesson and a paper plane to make.

But beneath that stern exterior, Jim possessed a deep, unwavering gentleness when it came to his family, especially his daughter, Malaeika, who he could never bring himself to spank. If she acted out, he punished her with a set of math problems, ensuring that even in punishment, her mind remained sharp.

Jim passed away at 11:11 a.m. on Mothers’ Day - a fitting departure for a man who lived his entire life by his own clock. His daughter fondly recalls the most joyful times in their life being when she, her parents and brother Jock lived at 1111 Foster City Boulevard, a place that held the happiest chapters and it concluded with that same unmistakable symmetry.

While living a life longer than most, he often commented that the hardest part is, “nobody remembers when I was young.” Jim is reunited with the majority of his family including his parents, Pauline, James, and Henry; his siblings, Bernice, Frank, and Theodore; his beloved wife, Groslyn; and his son, Juqueile, he leaves behind a world he worked tirelessly to improve.

His memory will be cherished by his daughter, Malaeika Montgomery Davidson (Kenneth); his grandchildren, Kaleb and Morgan; his niece Annette Massey (Adam), nephew Darren Ruth (Karen), and niece Tammy Bettes (Eric). He also leaves to mourn brother-in-laws Shelly Mitchell (Elizabeth), Uandruantz Mitchell, sister-in-law Shazehia Hampton (Tyrone) niece Cherie Mitchell (John), nephew Uandruantz Mitchell, Jr. a daughter-in-law Pricalla Gray and her sons Devante Roland and Jalen Shanks along with a host of extended cousins and friends.

Jim was a man of strength and sheer will who built bridges, homes, and futures. He taught those around him that a life well-built is one defined by determination, independence, and the will to keep moving forward.

In 2019, at the age of 92 he was interviewed by University of San Francisco students while on his daily sojourn to the Western Addition Senior Center, where he would eat lunch and meet with friends after his mile long walk and bus ride. He was quoted as saying, “I do what I want, and I do what I think is right”. He most certainly did…