Submitted by the family
Ramiro Solis, a proud father and trailblazing attorney, died of a heart attack on Sept. 8 among 40,000 friends doing one of the things he loved most – cheering on the Padres at Petco Park.
He is survived by four children, three grandchildren, his mother, and hundreds of friends worldwide. Condolences have come from the United States, Mexico, Spain, Italy, Portugal, Venezuela, Canada, Japan, Nigeria and Thailand.
If you’ve lived in Coronado over the last 30 years, there’s a good chance you knew my father.
You may remember him from the Coronado Shores tennis courts in the mid 1990s. He became a regular there after we moved to Coronado from Mexico City – often playing for hours in mixed-doubles matches with my mom or challenging random retirees who were often twice his age.
Or you might have seen him driving along Orange Avenue in his Charger-mobile, the Ford Explorer painted white on one side, navy blue on the other and features a lightning bolt down the middle. You may have even shared a Sierra Nevada and a carne asada taco in one of his famous Qualcomm Stadium tailgates.
And you’d definitely remember him from one of his many Coronado watering holes: The Sundeck at the Hotel Del; The Brigantine; the Coronado Yacht Club; and The Tavern. He would’ve been the one befriending bartenders, buying strangers drinks, bragging about his kids and unapologetically drinking a little more than he should have.
What can I say, Ramiro never wanted the party to end.
But sadly, it has. He’s watched his last Padres game, grilled his last steak, and drank his last beer.
Now that he’s gone, my family and I ask you to remember him as he will: an amazing man with unmatched generosity and an insatiable zest for life. A kid who was born in Mexico City and realized an incredible American Dream.
Ramiro Solis was the first-born child of Jacinto Solis Corzo and Clara Maria Suarez Aranda. He was born in 1956 and grew up in Mexico amid the cultural revolution of the 1960s.
As a boy, Ramiro was known as a brilliant troublemaker. He had a photographic memory and an aversion toward authority. Ramiro would ace every test while simultaneously concocting new ways of annoying his teachers. Like the time he hippy-fied the school uniform by sewing flowers onto his pants and wearing a blazer without a shirt underneath.
He also had an incredibly kind heart. His sister, my aunt, remembers Ramiro inviting a group of random children from the low-income neighborhood near their school home. He convinced his mother to feed each one.
And he remained that way throughout his life. As a young adult, he managed to graduate from one of Mexico City’s most prestigious law schools while regularly partying until 7 a.m. – often spending every last peso he had buying food and drinks for friends who otherwise couldn’t afford to party.
At Harvard Law School, he sometimes attended class wearing a suit from the night before, and eloquently answering every question his law professors threw at him.
As a professional, my father became one of the top corporate attorneys in Mexico City. Ramiro helped bring the first McDonalds franchise to Mexico and placed one of the first Mexican companies in the New York Stock Exchange. There is a long list of Mexico City lawyers who owe their first job to my father – who would put in a good word for people who didn’t have the right family connections. He also briefly owned a nightclub and a racing horse.
Toward the end of his career, Ramiro operated multiple resort hotels in Mexico. He invited countless friends and strangers to free nights at some of Mexico’s most beautiful beaches.
As a father, Ramiro instilled in his children a deep respect for the power of education. He loved the United States as the land of opportunity – a place where, no matter where you are from or what class you are born into, you can make something of yourself. He constantly reminded my siblings and I that our education would always be our most important inheritance. Still, he liked to have fun. Our childhoods were filled with incredible experiences – winter ski trips, summers in Europe, numerous World Cups, and more Padres and Chargers games than any of us can count.
We’ll all miss him dearly. And, in his honor, do our best to keep the party going.
Gustavo,
Firstly I want to offer our condolences. Your father played a very special role in both Amy and my life during our 13 years in San Diego. He was present for both our legal wedding in Coronado as well as our wedding celebration at his resort in Puerto Vallarta.
Reading your words brought both tears and smiles together. The many memories we have from spending time with your father will shine on. His generosity, friendship and consistent personality are just a few attributes that he carried with such pride. We will miss him dearly and wish you and the entire family our best.
Gustavo, I did not know Ramiro, but I knew his heart and as you described, his “insatiable zest for life.”
Two of my favorite expressions of the passion and fierceness that such a life force leave us with:
“The Mexican heart does not merely beat; it dances, sings, and radiates a profound warmth that makes everyone feel instantly at home.”
“To love with a Mexican heart is to love without boundaries—with a fierce passion, deep loyalty, and an endless abundance of affection.”
Ramiro clearly touched many who will no doubt emulate and pass on his passion for a life fully lived.
Blessings to your family.
Stuart
Ramiro was, and will remain, one of the greatest mentors of my life.
Growing up, sitting between him and my dad at hundreds of Padres games, I learned that you can learn a lot about life from baseball, and a lot about baseball from life. Ramiro could predict more Trevor Hoffman changeups, often with the correct speed, than the batters ever could.
The truth is, everyone looked forward to seeing Ramiro. He had a way of honoring everyone equally. He never put anyone down, and he never let anyone feel left out. Generosity was his calling card. Some of my happiest memories of him are simply of laughing together, because laughter seemed to follow Ramiro wherever he went.
I will always remember my last time with him. We were at Snapdragon Stadium for a soccer match. He invited me to sit with him, and we spent much of the evening talking about how deeply he loved his family. The soccer was good. SDFC beat Toluca 3-2. But what I remember most is hearing the pride in his voice as he spoke about his children and their accomplishments. Near full time, he was still full of love, admiration, curiosity, and gratitude.
I was extraordinarily lucky to spend so many of my formative years listening to him and asking him questions. He was wise and learned, gracious and welcoming, and funny to no end. He was truly a man for all seasons.
I also remember visiting Oaxaca with him and listening to him describe his vision for beautiful development, thoughtful design, and creating value for owners and workers alike. He understood that building was not merely about constructing something profitable or impressive. It was about helping people and creating something of lasting meaning. He was conscientious about the role he played in shaping places and lives.
Few people I have ever met could think that way, and no one I have ever met was quite like him.
How many people could describe the strategy of a perfectly placed bunt as though they were describing a Monet? How many people would even want to?
Ramiro could. And Ramiro would.
I will remember his encouragement and support, and the countless ways he brought people together. Whether it was a day-long preparation of bacalao in the Cays or an Oscar Mayer hot dog off the back of the Chargermobile in Mission Valley, Ramiro smiled as he shared it with you. He loved his friends. He loved his family. And he was always the first to welcome the stranger, too.
The day the Padres finally win the World Series, I will think of my dad’s compadre. And I will know that, for me, the real victory came decades earlier, when fate brought together a boy from Calexico and a boy from Mexico City, made them friends, and gave me the extraordinary gift of growing up beside them and learning, from their example, what it means to be good lawyers, good friends, and good fathers. For all Ramiro’s intelligence, accomplishment, and wit, what I will remember most is the goodness of the man.
God blessed our family with Ramiro.
Que Dios te bendiga, Ramiro Solis.
Beautiful words. Pages and pages could be filled with Ramiro’s anecdotes.
An extraordinary human being. Remembering him will fill the emptyness he has left in our hearts. I Know. I knew him for more than 66 years. He was my best friend. He was my brother.
Ramiro was a dear friend of mine for several decades. I spent endless hours with him on the tennis court. He was a very skilled club player who found the time out of his busy schedule to meet me at the courts serval times a week at lunch time. Our routine was 5 minutes warm up and one set. There was no clock just like tennis should always be. Many times after we finished he would say “I have an extra ticket for the Padres right now or tonight, do you want to go.” I always went because I always knew it would be fun; win or lose, it didn’t matter because he was always smiling, having fun and sharing a great time with everyone around. He will be truely missed by all that knew him as he always made everyone’s day a better day.
I think the writer meant HALF his age instead of “challenging random retirees who were often TWICE his age.”
Gustavo, that is such a beautiful tribute to your father. And all so very true. Our family has incredible memories of your dad doing all the things you mentioned. We loved the boating trips and out stays at 8 Admirality and so many other fun times. We look forward to celebrating his life with you and your siblings next week. Much love to you and your family at this difficult time, Lynne, Charlotte, amd Caroline Welsh