Ralph Cavallo mourned as ‘a man who got things done’ in Upland

Many people volunteer, and good for them, but few make an impact like Ralph Cavallo.

In Upland, Cavallo led more than 30 public improvement projects as a private citizen, at athletic fields, public parks, schools, the library and a public plaza.

Cavallo, who died Feb. 7 at age 80, was mourned and celebrated Saturday at an Upland chapel, the former St. Mark’s on 18th Street from 1910, where Cavallo had likewise organized upgrades to the restrooms and other spaces.

Indicating her father’s possible post-life projects, daughter Gina said: “I wouldn’t be surprised if Dad was up there installing new Pearly Gates.”

The small chapel’s oak pews were full, with Mayor Bill Velto in attendance and a former mayor, Debbie Stone, also present. Out of fondness and respect, I was there myself. More mourners were watching a video feed from Pioneer Junior High’s gym, where the reception would take place.

“Volunteering wasn’t something Ralph did occasionally. It was his default setting,” Jim Breitling, a friend and member of the City Council, said at the service. “If a project involved children or veterans, Ralph was there, and was probably project manager.”

The Bronx-born Cavallo never lost his New York accent or his gregarious Italian American personality, both of which served him in good stead around Upland, where he moved in 1971 from Covina.

He rose through the ranks at Southern California Edison, starting in 1964 as a groundman and retiring in 2000 as an executive vice president in the claims department.

The father of three was involved in youth soccer, girls softball and the Upland National Little League, where he was president for 14 years.

Cavallo’s volunteerism began taking more physical form in 1991, when he got new playing fields at Guy Warders Field and installed new bleachers. Later the field got a new scoreboard, new batting cages and a new snack bar, named Cavallo Cafe in his honor.

Cavallo was just getting started. He retired in 2000 from Edison due to cancer, fighting nine bouts with it until his death. Despite his health struggles, he used his retirement years to shepherd project after project over the finish line, often using donated labor and materials and twisting arms for money to get them done.

“He was a busybody,” a son, Frank, told me with a smile at Saturday’s reception. “He needed to find something to do.”

He built the children’s reading room and the Friends of the Library bookstore by enclosing two open-air wings of the Public library. Numerous parks and athletic fields throughout the city got improvements thanks to him.

The downtown gazebo was rebuilt by Cavallo and at his insistence its gates were removed. Illustrating his wisdom, it’s become a popular place for family photos. The event space outside the Cooper Museum a block away was also built by him and is now well-used.

His favorite project was the Veterans Monument and Plaza in the Civic Center, one of the most elaborate tributes to veterans and the military in the Inland Empire. He brought a $2 million job in for $400,000.

“I have a passion for building,” Cavallo told my then-colleague Liset Márquez in 2017. To Upland’s legion of armchair critics, Cavallo said: “You know what my question is? ‘What have you done to improve this town?’ Do whatever you feel you can to help.”

Cavallo had a reputation that preceded him and a manner that reinforced it.

“When I first met Ralph…” the Rev. Stan Doll said in his eulogy Saturday, getting knowing laughter before he’d even completed his thought. He continued: “I was a little bit intimidated. He was a go-getter, a hard charger, a man who got things done.”

Doll added: “Underneath that hard exterior was a heart of gold.”

I met Cavallo a decade ago and found him easy to like. But then, he wasn’t giving me orders or hitting me up for money. He also zinged me once at Upland Foothill Kiwanis, a club in which he was active and which has hosted me several times.

At a meeting in 2024, it was announced that the preliminaries would be dispensed with quickly “because we have a great speaker today.” Cavallo, seated near me, said in mock surprise: “Dave, I thought you were our speaker today.” Ha!

An unexpectedly goofy bit of Cavallo trivia we learned Saturday: He collected Precious Moments figurines. Jokes about his loquaciousness were made several times too.

Breitling said: “To this day, the longest phone conversation I’ve ever had was with Ralph. It was four hours… It ended when his phone died.”

Cavallo, ill during his last battle with cancer, was presented the “key to the city” in September, a City Council meeting that functioned as a de facto tribute and farewell. His last public appearance was on Veterans Day, when he checked himself out of City of Hope to attend the ceremony at the Veterans Plaza one last time, masked and using a walker.

Saturday’s reception was attended by more than 200.

“Ralph is probably the most important guy in the city,” Wes Fifield, a school board member, told me. He explained: “A lot of people talk and have big dreams. He’s one of the guys who got it done. It’s rare.”

A good afternoon

My talk in the basement of Riverside’s Back to the Grind on Sunday afternoon got a warm reception, and not just because the high was 80 degrees.

Some 25 people showed up to hear me read a few columns aloud, engage in a lively 45 minutes of Q&A and sell books afterward. It was similar to events I’ve been doing in the IE’s western reaches for years. If you’ve seen me before, you didn’t necessarily miss anything.

But this was the first such event in Riverside, the first at a coffeehouse (a good choice) and the first organized for me by this newspaper group. Response was strong enough that we may do this again sometime, somewhere.

And I’ll continue giving talks under the auspices of community groups — friends of a library, historical societies and such — that want to invite me. Hint!

Vacation!

To get away from the grind, I’ll be off the rest of this week and some, and possibly all, of next week. Frankly, I’ve been too harried lately to think ahead, and dealing with a flat tire on Monday didn’t help. In my absence I’ll mark 29 years at this job March 10 — you may mount your own quiet celebration, if you choose — and I’ll see you soon.

David Allen writes Wednesday, full stop. Email dallen@scng.com, phone 909-483-9339, and follow davidallencolumnist on Facebook or Instagram, @davidallen909 on X or @davidallen909.bsky.social on Bluesky.