My name is Jose Elias-Torres — a proud American, born and raised in Miami, Florida, with Colombian and Puerto Rican roots. I am blessed to call this country and this county my home.

To understand why I will give everything for this county and its people, I want to take a moment to be completely open with you — the way I plan to be as a person, and if you allow and with your blessing, as your commissioner. Because where I come from is everything.

I was born with my liver not functioning properly. For approximately the first 40 days of my life, I was in the NICU receiving treatment — and facing the very real possibility of needing a liver transplant. My mother, freshly discharged from the hospital herself, refused to leave my side. She stayed every single day — only stepping away briefly to shower or grab something to eat before coming right back. She did not know how it would end. She stayed anyway. Thankfully, the treatment worked. I got better. I did not need the transplant.

But those 40 days — my mother standing watch not knowing, my father working so she could stay — that is where my story really begins. They did not do it because they had to. They did it because that is simply who they are.

Everything I am starts with them. My father wanted my mother home with me from birth until I was ready for school — so he took on extra jobs and worked practically every day of the week, with rarely a day off. When he did take time away from work, it was for us. Not for himself. For us.

My mother went back to work the day I started kindergarten — and the two jobs she chose were at my elementary school and my middle school. She would wake up at 4am every morning, get herself ready, then wake me up, make me breakfast, and we would leave together — her to work, me to school. When my school day ended, she was already starting her second shift as a security monitor, overseeing after-school programs and extracurriculars until 6pm. And where was I? Sitting right next to her, doing my homework and studying, until it was time to go home together.

She was not just my mother at home. She was there, in those hallways, every single day, watching over me and other children at the same time. They worked that hard not to get ahead — but to make sure I had a childhood as full of opportunity and comfort as they could give me.

I am unconditionally proud of both of my parents. And I will be honest with you — I am a proud momma’s boy. Because of her sacrifices, her love, and the way she showed up for me every single day, I am who I am. I carry both of them into everything I do — including this.

When my mother was diagnosed with end-stage pulmonary disease, I did not step back. I stepped closer. I had been helping support my parents financially since I started working at 18.

After years of checkups, evaluations, and waiting — in 2020, my mother was accepted into the UF Health Shands lung transplant program. Then came the call we had been praying for. A viable donor. That evening — at 9pm — my mother, my father, and I left Miami together and drove through the night to Gainesville, arriving the next morning for her surgery.

In September 2020 — in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic — she received her lung transplant. I was the only one allowed in the ICU while she was intubated through a long and difficult recovery. I worked from her bedside. At that time I was in the healthcare world, helping communities navigate the pandemic. I was doing two things at once — showing up for my mother and showing up for the people I served professionally. That is the only way I know how to operate. All in. For everyone who needs me. And the story did not end there.

Today, she is home with us. After her transplant, as is common with many lung transplant recipients, her lungs have deteriorated over time and she is back on supplemental oxygen. But she remains strong, optimistic, and grounded in her faith — as my father is too. That strength is something I carry with me every single day.

My husband Timothy — a teacher, a political science graduate with a master’s in educational leadership, a man who spent years guiding students toward higher education when they needed someone in their corner, and a kidney transplant recipient since birth currently listed for his third — has been my rock through everything.

In February 2025, I settled in the hills of Minneola — in the first home Timothy and I ever owned. I made sure my parents would never have to worry about a mortgage again. Family takes care of family. With my parents under our roof, my husband Timothy by my side, and our Frenchies running the house — I did not just move here. I came home.

But Lake County had found me long before February 2025. Years earlier — on one of many drives to Gainesville for my mother’s evaluations, after a major hospital in Miami had shut the door on us, we refused to stop looking — I passed through Lake County. Carrying the weight of everything, not looking for anything else. And something stopped me in my tracks.

From the seaplane skies of Tavares, to the historic charm of Mount Dora, to the lakeside roots of Leesburg, to the wide open beauty of Groveland — I felt something I had not felt in a long time. Peace. Community. A place worth protecting. And from that moment, I manifested it. Eight years later, I made it home. From that moment on, I knew — its people, its lakes, its hills, its soul — every part of this beautiful county is worth protecting, and I will give everything for all of it.