Ronnie Lopez, Latino lobbyist, a power broker in Arizona politics

PHOENIX (By Yvonne Wingett, Arizona Republic) September 8, 2006 — Ronnie López moved through Morton's steakhouse in Phoenix, greeting dozens of people he had invited to meet New Mexico Gov. Bill Richardson.

López greeted the governor with a bear hug and then guided him through a crowd of dark suits, stopping every few feet to introduce him to elected officials, business owners and lobbyists. "Governor, let me introduce you to a good friend of mine," said López at each stop.

López, 59, is one of the most powerful lobbyists in Arizona. In politics and business, he opens doors and gets things done. He works behind the scenes to raise money and support for congressmen, governors, mayors and city council members. Companies across the Valley and nation hire him because he can connect them with decision-makers who can move along their projects.

Today, López will be inducted into the Hall of Fame at Valle del Sol's Profiles of Success Hispanic Leadership Awards Celebration at the Phoenix Convention Center. It is the highest honor that will be bestowed during the 16th-annual event, where 1,750 people will recognize the contributions that López and 11 others have made to the state.

In the Valley, López is considered a godfather to young Latino leaders. He helped lay the foundation for two Hispanic non-profits. He has helped minority-owned businesses gain equal access to government contracts. And he has been a role model for many young Latino professionals, generous with career advice and introductions to the right people.

López is always groomed in expensive suits, spit-shined shoes and a gold ring on each hand. But he talks like a down-to-earth guy, a throwback to an earlier time when deals were made over drinks and handshakes. Friends and clients say his charisma, straight talk and gift of gab have helped him become successful.

Some business leaders say López's personal relationships with friends in high places give him too much power, and some Hispanic leaders criticize him for being more comfortable in boardrooms than on the streets.

"I work hard to try to personify the best in our community," said López, of north-central Phoenix. "It ain't because I'm real bright, because I'm tall, because I have a lot of college degrees. It's because I had a lot of people behind me."

Making a difference

López grew up in the mountainous mining town of Miami, east of Phoenix. His father died after his sixth birthday, and his mom raised him and his two older brothers on money made cleaning houses, a church, and then working in the mines.

López wanted to see if he could make it in the big city. He moved to Phoenix in 1967 when he was 20, after he earned an associate's degree at junior college. It was a time when social and political activism among Hispanics was strong, and community advocates were fighting a system they thought was unfair.

Miami's local politico was a barber who hooked López up with a job in Phoenix as a field representative for the Arizona State Civil Rights Commission. For two years, he investigated allegations of discrimination. Then, over the next eight years, he led Chicanos Por La Causa, and then served as a justice of the peace in west Phoenix. He built a reputation as a passionate champion of better housing and education for Hispanics.

López caught the eye of then Attorney General Bruce Babbitt. They became fast friends and López joined Babbitt's staff in 1978, when Babbitt became governor.

"When there was political conflict over issues, I'd sit Ronnie in the middle of it and say, 'Can you go figure this mess out?' " recalled Babbitt, 68, from his Washington, D.C., home. "He's good at handling conflict. He's just irresistible."

In 1987, López opened Phoenix International Consultants, a lobbying and public relations firm that represents companies ranging from Southwest Airlines to Schaller Anderson Healthcare.

Support and loyalty

López holds a special place in the Hispanic community, where he has hundreds of compadres spanning four generations of CEOs, non-profit leaders, mayors, governors, lawyers and activists.

His influence can be seen and felt across the Valley in the dozens of professionals who credit him for looking after their careers. In Paul J. Luna, executive director of Valley of the Sun United Way. In Eric Gudiño, senior assistant to Phoenix Mayor Phil Gordon. In Delia Garcia, a senior manager at Wal-Mart. And in Greg Stanton, a Phoenix city councilman.

"If you reach out, and you're able to touch somebody, hopefully the result is that they're going to go out and touch others," said López on a recent afternoon.

When corporate execs and Hispanic movers and shakers move to the Valley, López connects them over coffee, dinner or drinks to Hispanic and business leaders.

"I'm loyal, and in return I expect loyalty," he said. "And when somebody in the family is hurting, (I'm) there. If you're on top, everybody wants to be around you. But if for some reason you fall on hard times, and someone turns on the light, they scurry away, like a cucaracha. I don't scurry."

A political power broker

Much of López's success in the business world lies in his knack for handling sticky political issues. He puts people together and gets them to agree.

Last spring, he vice-chaired the 2006 Phoenix Citizens Bond Executive Committee and helped determine where the $878.5 million would be spent.

López has represented minority-owned businesses and helped them open retail stores at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. He has guided them through the selection process and helped them navigate the bureaucratic levels of government to set up shop.

For more than a decade, López has chaired all of Gordon's five bids for public office, first for school board, then city council and mayor. Gordon credits him with raising tens of thousands of dollars and helping deliver votes from the Hispanic and business communities.

The State Compensation Fund Arizona, the state's largest provider of worker's compensation insurance, hired López two years ago as a government relations consultant to strengthen relationships with state and city leaders.

Success is personal

These days, López is working alongside his son, Paul, at the political consulting business.

His life was turned inside out three years ago when his wife Angie was diagnosed with breast cancer. The cancer is in remission, and he fastens a pink ribbon lapel pin every day on his suit lapel to remind himself, and others, how lucky he is to have her.

López still works 10-hour days and travels here and there. But he is spending more time with his family, and is awaiting the birth of his first grandchild.

Recently, López has helped Phoenix City Councilman Tom Simplot raise money for a dog park at Steele Indian School Park. He is raising money from businesses to help fight a proposal on the November ballot that would ban gay marriage and prevent governments from giving employees domestic benefits. Last year, he hosted a fund-raiser in central Phoenix to help his friend Antonio Villaraigosa, cinch the Los Angeles mayoral office. Earlier this year he raised money for Alex Padilla, an L.A. city councilman who is running for the California state senate.

"You take a guy from a mining town, with an associate arts degree and not the smartest guy on the block, man," he said, "Man, what a great life this has been."