Aspen Teacher and Rodeo Star Kay Simons Dies at 91

Can you remember the specific smell of a classroom in late spring, that particular mix of chalk dust, floor wax, and the damp wool of wet raincoats drying by the radiator? For the children of Aspen Elementary in the mid-1960s, that was the scent of Kay Simons’ world, a sensory anchor that held them still while she explained the nuances of long division or the life cycle of a frog. Now, that memory is being woven into a larger tapestry of loss, as the community prepares to say goodbye to a woman who didn’t just teach in this town but lived it, breathed it, and rode it with a fierce, joyful intensity that lasted until her sudden passing on May 28, 2026, at the age of 91.

Kay Frances Kranz grew up in Denver, but she made her home here, arriving around 1962 to teach second grade at Aspen Elementary, a role she held for nearly two decades before moving to Carbondale in 91 and then Grand Junction in 1995. She wasn’t a distant figure in a high school office; she was the woman in blue jeans and a cowgirl shirt who could switch from guiding a child’s hand across a page to leading a herd of Quarter Horses in the National Reining Horse Shows with equal grace. You can feel that duality in the stories locals tell — the teacher who cared about your spelling, and the mentor who cared about your horsemanship.

The question many neighbors ask isn’t just who she was, but how she managed to be so many things at once. The answer lies in her relentless engagement with the community. She wasn’t just a member of the Aspen Lions Club and the Aspen Saddle Tramps; she was the secretary of the W/J Rodeo and a board member of the Pitkin County Fair, roles that required organization, grit, and a willingness to get her hands dirty. She taught guitar to middle and high schoolers, donating her time and lessons, and volunteered at St. Mary’s Hospital for eight years, all while maintaining her faith at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church.

There’s a warmth to the way her life is being recounted, a sense that her legacy isn’t in a single monument but in the accumulated weight of small kindnesses and big achievements. She rode every day until she retired her business in 2013, and even after that, she kept riding, keeping her friendship with Gary Day and his wife Bonnie close until Bonnie’s death in 2017. Even as dementia began to gently cloud her memory last year, moving her into memory care, her enthusiasm for meeting people didn’t fade. She remained, in the words of her family, a "loving, cheerful, giving mentor," a woman who never stopped wearing her identity like a second skin, trading her boots for sneakers but keeping the cowgirl spirit intact.

The loss is felt deeply in the valleys she called home, from the high alpine air of Aspen to the broader, wind-swept plains of the Grand Junction area. Her husband, Bob, an eighth-grade English teacher and avid fisherman, preceded her in death in 2006, leaving her to carry on their shared love of the land and the animals that inhabited it. Now, as her niece Kristi, nephew Karl, and her three step-sons Geoff, Robbie, and Thomas prepare to hold memorial services before the winter snows settle in, the community is left with the quiet echo of her presence.

It’s not just the trophies and awards that defined her, though they filled her home with a glittering testament to her skill in reining events. It’s the image of an older woman, perhaps a bit slower now, still out on the trail, still connected to the rhythm of the horses that had been her companions since childhood. When you think of Kay Simons, you don’t just think of a teacher or a rodeo secretary; you think of the sound of hooves on gravel, the strum of a classical guitar, and the steady, reassuring voice of a second-grade teacher who knew that learning, whether of numbers or of horses, was a lifelong journey.