It’s been said that the eyes are the windows to the soul and that feels intensely true for one of Tampa’s business legends, Oscar Horton.
His eyes twinkle as if they know secrets you’re eager to hear. And, after listening to his story, it’s easy to understand why. He’s seen a lot in his lifetime, and the world around him, in 2024’s Tampa Bay, feels miles away from the one he lived, growing up outside segregated, Little Rock, Arkansas, in the early 1950s.
Horton rarely dwells on memories from that time, even when prodded. Perhaps because they’re harsh and best left behind, or maybe because he simply doesn’t see value in keeping them alive. There’s no bitterness, no self-pity—just a steady acceptance that “the times were what they were.” It makes a person wince, listening as he recounts stories from his childhood. Today, his focus is firmly on the present, and it’s here that his eyes truly light up. He’s more inclined to discuss community needs and the work he does to help. With equal passion, he speaks of the future of his company, Horton Holdings and Sun State International Trucks, and the legacy he’s building for future generations of ownership. As chief executive officer, he has strong, unwavering beliefs about workplace culture, leading with kindness while enforcing a strict code of ethics and honor.
He structured Sun State as more than just a company. It’s a legacy, designed to be passed down, a mark of African American ownership and success, in an industry that historically offered few opportunities for minorities. He won’t sell the business to anyone other than an African American, he’s steadfast in that belief.
Horton set out to build a business that spans generations—one that serves as a pillar for both his family and the Tampa Bay community. And he has.
“Too many times, people look at wealth as money or cash, but that’s not what wealth is—it’s accumulated assets,” says Horton.
With a gleam in his eye and a voice softer than most, his vision is loud and bold.
A TOWN NEAR HOPE
Horton’s story begins in a small town in southern Arkansas, not far from Hope, the birthplace of former President Bill Clinton.
Born in 1952, Horton grew up in a segregated community, attending an all-Black school until eighth grade, when integration was legally enforced. He recalls the complexities of that era—the ways his family and neighbors built their lives, friendships and resilience within the restrictions of the time.
“Growing up in that period, it was just a different world. The things I had to put up with before I got to college were tough enough. When I got to college, it was a little different, but I had already been sort of hardened from growing up in the South,” Horton reflects.
His father, though not a traditional businessman, was an entrepreneur in his own right. “I never remember him drawing a W-2,” Horton recalls. Yet his father always managed to provide for the family. Whether working odd jobs or managing the family-owned nightclub, Horton’s early years were filled with lessons on grit and self-reliance. “If you sell something and don’t get more out than you put in, it’s not going to work out,” his father would say, a foundation for Horton’s business philosophy to this day.
Horton played basketball in high school and, while the sport wasn’t his future, it helped him earn a spot at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock. By the 1970s, Horton joined International Harvester, now Navistar, taking on a sales role covering Arkansas, Mississippi, Tennessee and Kentucky, a challenging territory for any salesperson, let alone a young Black man, as his manager pointed out, matter-of-factly.
Horton, ever resilient, didn’t let that deter him. Though he describes himself as a loner, he possessed a natural charm for building relationships and earning respect. He recalls one of his first encounters on the job: “The first time I go into the dealership I walk in, and this guy is sitting in a chair at his desk. Behind him, there’s a picture of three guys with hoods on, the Ku Klux Klan. I’m sitting across from him. He knew I was coming but he didn’t know I was Black. He didn’t make a big to-do about it, neither did I.”
In this territory, Horton’s job was to “check inventory”—verifying equipment, matching serial numbers and ensuring items were where they were supposed to be. He’d arrived at the dealership later in the day and, after a brief exchange, the manager suggested he come back in the morning, directing him to a hotel down the street. But when Horton arrived at the hotel, he was turned away. “There weren’t two cars in the parking lot,” Horton says, chuckling at the memory. “I go back to the dealership and said, ‘Look man, they said they’re full. What am I going to do?’ He said, ‘Shit, they’re not full. Give me a minute.’”
After a quick call, Horton headed back, securing a room. Noticing the bottom half of the door had been sawed off, since he had been there prior—letting in the January chill—he set out to a liquor store for a bottle, to help him stay warm throughout the night.
When he returned to the dealership the next day, the manager looked at him and said, “Well, you passed the first test.”
OVER THE ROAD TO TAMPA BAY
Over time, Horton gained a mentor in Bob Romer who saw potential in him and became a strong advocate for his growth at International Harvester. With Romer’s guidance, Horton took on new challenges and expanded his understanding of the business. “I had to learn from the workers and from the customers,” he reflects. Through these experiences, Horton says he gained a valuable lesson in humility—one that has stuck with him. –continued below–
As his career progressed, Horton gained a new mentor, Dan Ustian, and transitioned to the manufacturing side of the business. This opportunity deepened his understanding of the industry, from production and supply chains to cost management. This comprehensive view would become a foundation for his future as a business owner.
By the late 1990s, Horton was ready to take the next step and pursue his dream of ownership. In 2000, he acquired Sun State International Trucks a struggling, Tampa-based truck dealership generating around $30 million in revenue but losing close to a million dollars, annually. With a mix of confidence and tenacity, Horton set out to turn the business around.
Under his leadership, Sun State grew from a floundering dealership into a powerhouse. Today, the company’s revenue is on track to reach $250 million. It has six locations and 250-plus employees, with Horton setting an ambitious goal of hitting $400 million in revenue, by 2027. When asked how he plans to achieve this growth, Horton explains that it will come through a combination of organic growth and carefully chosen acquisitions.
“We walked away from an acquisition not too long ago, simply because the culture was going to be tough to turn around,” Horton says. “A bad culture will eat a good strategy for breakfast every day.” This commitment to culture is a defining principle of Horton’s leadership.
Horton takes pride in fostering a workplace that emphasizes transparency, accountability and financial literacy. He provides financial training for every employee, ensuring they understand how to read income statements, balance sheets and cash flow reports. “Every employee, after they’ve been here 90 days, goes through a full day of training on financial literacy,” he explains. Horton believes that when employees understand the company’s financial health, and how each department contributes, it fosters a sense of ownership and accountability.
Ethics and integrity are non-negotiable values at Sun State. Horton underscores these principles with the company’s “trust coin,” which every employee receives as a symbol of the values they’re expected to uphold which are trust, honesty, ethics and respect. Horton hands these to each employee, himself. Any serious breach of these values results in what Horton calls “public executions,” where violations are addressed transparently. “If you want to get terminated, you violate one of these things on the back of the coin,” he says. “This policy reinforces that everyone is held to the same standards, regardless of their position.”
From top to bottom Horton runs a tight ship, and his approach works. In the mechanic shop, a sign proudly displays that it’s been 999 days since the last injury—a testament to the discipline and respect for protocols within Sun State.
Horton’s vision for reaching $400 million is an extension of his bold, principled leadership. His confidence in his team, and their shared commitment to the company’s values, leaves little doubt that they’ll reach their target.
A TRUCKING TITAN’S LEGACY
While Horton’s business success is evident, his impact on the Tampa Bay community is equally profound, but not apparent. “If I’m doing okay, I have an obligation,” he says. His philanthropic endeavors reach far beyond what many realize.
Driven by a passion for education and youth development, Horton has long supported Academy Prep, a rigorous private school that serves underprivileged, African American youth. At Academy Prep, students attend school 11 hours a day, 11 months a year, graduating ready for high school, and college, without the financial burden. Horton has championed this initiative, for over 18 years, mentoring students and inspiring a commitment to education and discipline.
“I’ve been with them long enough now to see some of those kids go off and graduate—they’re attorneys, doctors, research scientists—and it’s proven what I already believed: if somebody puts their arms around you, and invests the right amount of time, you can do anything,” Horton says.
Horton also has a strong relationship with the University of South Florida, where he supports student-athletes and other initiatives. Recognizing that not all athletes will go pro, he mentors them to explore career paths beyond sports.
In November, The Horton Family Foundation, led by Horton and his wife, Miriam, president of the foundation, pledged $1 million to support the USF’s on-campus stadium.
“We deeply appreciate Oscar and Miriam’s investment in our new stadium, which demonstrates their confidence in the vital role the project will play in the University of South Florida’s future, including enhancing the on-campus experience for our students, faculty and staff, alumni and community members,” said USF President Rhea Law. “We are incredibly grateful to the Horton family for their longstanding support of both USF and the Tampa Bay community.”
The Hortons, long-time supporters of USF and the Tampa Bay community, view the stadium as a key addition to the campus experience. “Sports facilities have a huge impact on student-athlete recruitment and the strength of athletics programs,” Horton said.
As Horton begins to step back from daily operations, he looks to the future with his two daughters, Kelli and Alisan, who are both actively involved in the company. His hard work goes beyond just family legacy; it’s about maintaining an African American-owned trucking company, in an industry where such ownership is rare.
“If my kids sell this business, they can’t get back into it,” he says, emphasizing his commitment to keeping the company in the family. For Horton, success isn’t about building an empire—it’s about creating a sustainable future, one that honors his past and paves the way for the next generation.
Despite his achievements, Horton remains humble, and reflective, about his journey. He shares a story about receiving a “challenge coin” from a military general, which inspired him to create his coin system at Sun State. He’s observant, always listening and learning, always looking for ways he, and Sun State, can do better and be better.
“I want this business to be more than a one-generation story. Too often, people build something great then it gets sold, and the next generation starts from scratch,” Horton says, his eyes warm and thoughtful. He still knows more than he’s letting on, one of his most endearing qualities. “I want my legacy to be about building something lasting—something that keeps giving back, that keeps growing and creating opportunities, long after I’m gone.”
