Remembering Ray Hartmann

Ray Hartmann never did anything halfway. He showed up fully: curious, principled, sharp-witted, and deeply committed to the people and causes he believed in.

For those of us at the Starkloff Disability Institute, Ray was not just a board member or advisor. He was a friend, an early believer, and a steady voice who helped shape who we are today.

Ray’s connection to our work began, as so many meaningful relationships did, with Max Starkloff. After meeting Max, Ray didn’t just admire his vision—he embraced it. He understood, instinctively and intellectually, that disability rights were civil rights, and that the fight for dignity, independence, and opportunity was far from over. From that point on, he became one of our most consistent champions.

Over more than a decade of formal service, as a member of the Board of Directors, as President of the Max Starkloff Society, and later as a dedicated member of the Leadership Council, Ray gave his time, his talent, and his voice generously. He helped build the philanthropic backbone of our organization, strengthened our events, expanded our reach, and never hesitated to offer thoughtful counsel. Even after his board service ended, he remained deeply engaged, always ready with insight, encouragement, or a well-placed question that made us think harder and aim higher.

But what made Ray truly special was not just what he did, it was how he did it.

He brought the instincts of a lifelong journalist to everything. He asked the right questions. He challenged assumptions. He pushed for clarity and honesty. And he never lost sight of the human stories at the center of the work. That perspective mattered deeply to Max, who believed that progress began with changing how people understood disability. Ray shared that belief, and he used his platform and influence to amplify it.

His friendship with Max and Colleen Starkloff was rooted in mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose. Ray saw in them not just leaders, but revolutionaries, people who were reshaping what was possible. And in turn, they saw in Ray someone who could carry those ideas into the broader community, someone who could connect, translate, and advocate in ways few others could.

The St. Louis community knew Ray as a formidable voice through his writing, his broadcasting, and his decades of civic engagement. We knew him as someone who listened just as intently as he spoke, who believed in the power of relationships, and who showed up when it mattered most.

His loss is sudden and deeply felt. It leaves a space that cannot be filled in quite the same way.

And yet, Ray would be the first to remind us that the work continues. He understood that the legacy of Max, and the mission of the Starkloff Disability Institute, depends on people who are willing to carry it forward with the same urgency and conviction.

We will miss his voice, his wisdom, and his friendship. But we will also carry with us the example he set: to stay engaged, to speak up, to build community, and to never stop pushing for a more inclusive world.

Thank you, Ray, for your conviction, your compassion, and the legacy you leave behind.