Freddy Ramirez was known for being an even-tempered and compassionate cop. Then he snapped

Alfredo Ramirez became a police officer for noble reasons. He was a law-and-order man, who spoke about the ravages of gun violence. He was a compassionate man, known to cry for victims and pray with their distraught families. He was a humble man, son of Cuban exiles, who worked long hours to protect Miami-Dade County from crime. In a place with a history of bad cops, killer cops, corrupt cops, his spotless record gleamed like the eight gold stars on his collar.

As Ramirez rose through the ranks, from patrolling suburban streets to arresting drug dealers, gang leaders and money launderers, to leading the fourth-largest police force in the country, the respect of colleagues and citizens only grew. He remained steadfastly Freddy, the opposite of the cynical, traumatized, volatile, trigger-happy TV cop show stereotype.

And then, he snapped.

The rage of Ramirez’s breakdown has left those who thought they knew him searching for explanations: How and why did his 28-year-career come to a bloody end Sunday night by the side of a highway with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head?

READ MORE: Miami-Dade police chief shot himself in the head after fight with wife at Tampa hotel

Ramirez, recovering from two surgeries at Tampa General Hospital, has lost sight in his right eye but the angle of the shot and the trajectory of the bullet did not cause brain damage, doctors said. Ramirez, 52, has not not yet addressed his 2024 candidacy for the new position of county sheriff, but political observers say his campaign can’t survive what happened in Tampa. Voters would find it difficult to reconcile Ramirez’s public image with descriptions of dangerous, despondent behavior so out of character he seemed to be possessed.

Panicked 911 call from Tampa hotel

What caused the even-tempered Ramirez to get into a heated argument with his wife of 30 years, Jody, in the lobby of the Tampa JW Marriott on the first evening of the Florida Sheriffs Association summer conference in full view of his stunned law-enforcement peers? Why did Ramirez shove his wife against a wall and put his hands around her throat, according to three attendees? As the couple moved outside, shouting at each other, why did Ramirez, the lauded peacemaker, pull out his gun — at one point, aiming it at himself — alarming guests, and prompting a panicked 911 call that summoned Tampa police to the hotel? Police questioned Ramirez and his wife about their “domestic dispute,” which they said was over, no harm done, no fear of harm, and Ramirez denied brandishing his gun.

Kicked out of the Marriott by management, Ramirez and his wife began the trip to their West Kendall home. He called Mayor Daniella Levine Cava and his campaign manager, told them about the mortifying scene at the conference, and offered to resign as chief. Levine Cava, who described Ramirez as “very remorseful,” reassured him they would talk about it Monday.

And then, did Ramirez crack again? What about the emotional state of his wife, Jody? As they drove south, enveloped inside their car by anger, despair and shame, what provoked the next violent outburst?

Ramirez had his gun in his right hand when he shot himself but the details are unclear, the obvious questions unanswered. Who can understand the tests to a marriage except the partners themselves? Did Ramirez make a suicidal threat and Jody tried to wrestle the gun away? Did Ramirez take the gun from Jody? The Herald has requested the incident report, 911 call recordings and body camera footage from authorities who responded to the scene on I-75 near mile marker 244 but the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Office and Florida Highway Patrol have not released those records.

Nor has Ramirez made any statements. The main concern is his recuperation.

“We are shaken and hurt, and can’t stop thinking about Freddy,” said Tangela Sears, an anti-violence activist who has known Ramirez for 25 years, since he worked at the Northside station near her home in Liberty City. “I had lunch with him last week and talked to him on Sunday afternoon about the campaign and the conference. I’m asking myself if I saw any red flags. I don’t know what may be going on with him in his personal life, but he was under a lot of pressure.”

Sears is a founder of Miami-Dade Mothers of Murdered Children. Her 29-year-old son was shot and killed in 2015.

“I’ve been in Freddy’s shoes before, where you are in so much pain and feel so hopeless that you consider ending your life,” Sears said. “I’ve been through tragedy after tragedy with family and friends. We’re human, we’re not as strong as people think. Freddy was always by my side and I’ll stay by his side.”

It’s not the time to judge Ramirez, but to support him, said Miami-Dade State Attorney Katherine Fernandez-Rundle.

“I have witnessed him personally, innumerable times, where he’s tried to console a grieving victim,” she said at a press conference. “He’s given a great deal to this community, to our community. And now it’s our turn.”

Levine Cava, who flew by county helicopter to the Tampa hospital at 2:30 a.m. Monday, said she can’t speculate on what led to the shooting. She can only empathize with Ramirez and his wife.

“I love Freddy. He is an amazing human being,” she said at a Wednesday press conference, her eyes red, her voice halting. “He is the best of what law enforcement means. I have total trust in his leadership.”

READ MORE: Before he shot himself, Miami-Dade’s police director offered to resign, mayor says

A reassuring presence at crime scenes, memorials

In announcing an interim police director and interim chief safety officer — Ramirez’s job was expanded by the mayor in 2022 when he assumed both roles — Levine Cava emphasized the toll of police work on officers’ mental health.

“This incident is also a tragic reminder of the critical role that mental health plays in our law enforcement officers,” Levine Cava said, flanked by police administrators and commanders in their taupe uniforms. “The reality is that these jobs are very demanding, they’re stressful and they’re emotionally taxing.”

County Commission Chairman Oliver Gilbert, who joined Levine Cava in Tampa on Monday, said seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness.

“We never want to be this sad again,” he said. “We never want to be this broken.”

Ramirez has been an outspoken advocate of mental health treatment for police officers, who suffer disproportionately high rates of suicide, depression, domestic violence, divorce and stress-related illnesses.

Alex Piquero, a professor of criminology at the University of Miami and director of the Department of Bureau Statistics for the U.S. Department of Justice, praised Ramirez’s “rare” one-on-one connection with people. They have worked together on the county’s Peace and Prosperity Plan since the mass shooting at El Mula banquet hall in 2021.

One of the biggest stress multipliers for cops is their inability to leave work behind at the station. Witnessing gore, addiction, death and the worst side of human beings for years on end leads to fractured relationships at home, Piquero said.

“It’s not like cops can punch out and say ‘I’m done for the day,’” Piquero said. “It’s really, really hard for them to turn the toggle off.”

Ramirez had trouble compartmentalizing the pain he saw because even as an administrator managing 4,600 employees from a big office, he was a constant, earnest presence in Miami-Dade’s neighborhoods, at crime scenes, memorials, charity events.

“You can’t take things personally and to the heart, but he did,” said Charles Nanney, who retired from the Miami-Dade police department in 2018 after 36 years. “He’s very energetic. Very quiet. But always working. And everyone liked him. More importantly, everyone wanted him in their units.”

Sears said Ramirez was a collaborator who welcomed community input. They have worked together to organize violence-prevention forums and programs to get guns off the streets. They have marched together at rallies.

“Any time you met with Freddy about a problem, you walked away with a solution,” said Sears, who has consulted with politicians on reforms in law enforcement policies. “He was out here making sure detectives maintained close contact with the neighborhoods, with the people. He took a zero-tolerance stand against gun violence and we’re going to continue that work.”

Ramirez met with family members of the 98 people killed in the 2021 collapse of the Champlain Towers South condo. He drove to Surfside almost daily during the month-long search and rescue operation that turned into a search mission after it was determined there would be no survivors pulled from the rubble. Ramirez talked with anguished, anxious relatives, prayed with them for a miracle and promised that the remains of all victims would be found and identified.

When robbery detective Cesar “Echy” Echaverry was killed last year in a Liberty City shootout with a felon, Ramirez treated Echaverry’s relatives and colleagues like family, Nanney said.

“He cares so much. He’s always worried. So when Echy got killed, it hurt him. It’s just the way he’s built,” Nanney said.

READ MORE: ‘Surrounded by loved ones,’ Miami-Dade detective dies two days after shooting

Ramirez participated in an annual fundraiser picnic for juvenile diabetes patients at ZooMiami every year without fail, Nanney said. Another example of Ramirez’s caring nature came after a major drug bust in Liberty City. It was around Christmas, and a group of young kids watched as Ramirez and his unit handcuffed suspects. Ramirez was worried residents would see the cops as “occupiers” of the neighborhood, so he told the kids he’d make it up to them. The next day he brought toys to give away, Santa with a badge.

“I kept saying this guy’s going to be director one day,” Nanney said. “He’s very simple. He was raised the way everyone should be raised.”

Met his wife at Sunset High

Before moving to Miami, Ramirez lived in Elizabeth, New Jersey, with his parents and grandparents, who left Cuba when Fidel Castro took power. He graduated from Sunset Senior High School, where he met Jody, and earned a sociology degree from the University of Miami in 1995. They have four children; one son is a Miami-Dade police sergeant and a daughter is in medical school. Ramirez’s favorite hobbies? Playing guitar and working out at the gym.

After a few years of street patrols in the south end of the county, Ramirez became a sergeant in the Hammocks in 2002. By 2003, he was overseeing narcotics and search warrants. When he worked under Nanney, “Freddy was the tip of the spear when it came to getting bad guys, and I got almost zero complaints on him, which is hard to do,” Nanney said. In 2006, Ramirez was promoted to lieutenant.

As a captain he supervised investigations of narcotics, money laundering, kidnapping, organized crime, human trafficking, gangs and murder.

In 2012 he became a major in homicide and later chief of criminal investigations. Then it was on to senior leadership. He spent the next five years beside Director Juan Perez until he was named deputy director in 2018. When Perez left in 2020, then-Mayor Carlos Gimenez appointed Ramirez to succeed him.

The top job becomes an elected sheriff position in 2024, which has made Ramirez somewhat uncomfortable. Shy and soft-spoken, he’s not one for schmoozing and self-promotion.

READ MORE: In a traumatic evening, historic race for Miami-Dade sheriff gets thrown into turmoil

Among Ramirez’s campaign emails is an endorsement from Jody:

“Things weren’t always easy for us,” she writes to voters. “When we were first married, Freddy was working full time while finishing school — all while we were raising our first child. But hard work, dedication and family are Freddy’s defining values. Those principles make him a great husband and father — and an outstanding leader in our community. Freddy and I have raised our kids here in Miami-Dade County. We know how important it is for our neighborhoods to be safe for all residents. I’m so proud of what our community has accomplished under Freddy’s leadership and I know that he’ll protect that progress as our first elected sheriff in over 50 years.”

On Friday, a Miami-Dade police officer was parked outside their home, saying the family was not talking.

The biggest setback for Ramirez occurred in December 2021, when Miami-Dade prosecutors were forced to drop murder charges against Warneric Buckner, a suspected gunman in the Memorial Day mass shooting at the El Mula banquet hall in Northwest Miami-Dade, where 23 people were shot, three of them killed, as they left a record release party.

Prosecutors said two detectives — who would later be demoted — got an improper confession from Buckner after he asked for an attorney. Buckner reportedly admitted he fired into the crowd from the front seat of an SUV.

Ramirez said he was “disappointed and saddened” by the decision and promised to continue investigating.

In June, Buckner, who had been imprisoned for six months on an identity theft conviction, was charged with second-degree murder and two counts of attempted first-degree murder in the 2021 drive-by shooting death of 6-year-old Chassidy Saunders, known as the Tik-Tok Princess. She was attending a birthday party.

In his three years as chief, Ramirez has dealt with only one controversial firing of an officer: A cop at Miami International Airport who got caught on video slapping a woman after she got into his face.

But even the person most likely to be at odds with a police chief —the head of the police union — had nothing but glowing praise for Ramirez.

“He was making a decision and I had a guy to defend,” said Steadman Stahl, president of the South Florida Police Benevolent Association. “It’s been our only open disagreement in public.

“It’s never been contentious. That’s unusual, but nope, not with him. He’s just a really great guy at all levels. He seems to navigate all waters.”

Is Ramirez finished? Nanney, his close friend, has a different prediction than most who think the chief, beloved for his steady, gentle leadership, cannot repair the reputation he shredded during a devastating night in Tampa.

“I wouldn’t count him out.”

Sears said Ramirez’s leadership is more essential than ever.

“I know he will heal and be a major voice on policing and mental health. I still believe he has a bright future preventing the gun violence that is destroying our country,” she said. “We didn’t lose Freddy because we need Freddy.”

Miami Herald reporter Michelle Marchante and Bradenton Herald reporter Ryan Ballogg contributed to this report.