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They called him "Fabulous Freddie.''
Once, he was an electrifying quarterback at the University of Tampa. His broken-field, improvisational running style was ahead of its time. Once, he was a cornerstone of the 1980s-era San Francisco 49ers, when the franchise went from laughingstock to perennial Super Bowl champions.
Freddie Solomon's stunning athletic ability was enough to immortalize him. Yet he stood for so much more.
Solomon was a man for others.
Solomon died Monday afternoon after a nine-month battle with colon and liver cancer, according to family friend George Levy. He was 59. Solomon's health recently took a turn for the worse and he was hospitalized on Feb. 4.
"With all that he has done, with all that he has meant to this community, Freddie Solomon is irreplaceable,'' said Vin Hoover, who was Solomon's football teammate at UT. "He was my friend. He was everyone's friend.''
Solomon worked for two decades in community relations with the Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office, working with youths while blending football fundamentals with life lessons. He rarely spoke about his accomplishments. For some, he dished out tough love. For others, he was a mentor. To all, he was simply "Coach Solomon.''
Each winter for a dozen years, Solomon and former 49ers owner Eddie DeBartolo organized a Christmas celebration for foster children. The kids got wrapped toys, dolls or games. Their stunned caregivers, usually struggling to make ends meet, were screaming or sobbing in disbelief after opening gift envelopes filled with hundreds of dollars.
He was constantly stopped in his daily travels by people who remembered his glory days. Solomon obliged with a handshake, a hug, an autograph or a quick photo. Once, a woman asked Solomon to telephone her father, a big fan, as a birthday surprise. Instead, on his way home from work, Solomon dropped by the man's house to personally share some UT memories. They talked and laughed for hours.
"Freddie Solomon was a treasure for us in San Francisco,'' said former 49ers safety Ronnie Lott, a Pro Football Hall of Famer. "What a humanitarian he has been for the city of Tampa.''
The city gave back on Dec. 11, when the DeBartolo family, UT and the Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office combined to produce "Freddie and Friends,'' an evening affair at Falk Theatre. More than 500 people heard testimonials from Solomon's friends and former teammates.
Approximately $200,000 was raised to help fund the endowment of a UT scholarship in Solomon's name.
"I can't think of another person who is so revered in this community,'' UT president Ronald Vaughn said that night.
Solomon, visibly moved, said, "I didn't seek this, but I am grateful and I will cherish this night the rest of my life. All I know is to work hard, do your job and be a good teammate.''
Or as he put it later: "As I kneeled before the throne of Solomon, the King of Kings said unto me, 'There is more work to be done.' ''
On Jan. 11, his 59th birthday, Solomon was honored during the dedication of the Hillsborough County sheriff's annex in Ybor City, which was named the Freddie Solomon Annex.
"His is a story not of fame and fortune, but one that unlocks the human spirit,'' Hillsborough County Sheriff David Gee said.
"I've met thousands of players who came through my locker room with the 49ers, but I've never seen anyone with a heart like Freddie,'' said DeBartolo, who operates a sports and entertainment business in Tampa. "We wouldn't have reached the top without Freddie.''
Hall of Famer Jerry Rice, the former 49ers receiver who is often considered the best ever at his position, said Solomon taught him how to be a professional. Dwight Clark, another former 49ers receiver, said he didn't expect to make the team as a rookie, but felt Solomon's post-practice instruction and guidance helped him establish an NFL career.
"He helped me when he didn't really have to,'' Clark said. "But as I came to understand, that's how he has always been with everybody. He has led an amazing life.''
Solomon grew up in Sumter, S.C., where kids sometimes laughed at his stuttering problem. He was self-conscious and withdrew from others, rarely saying a word. Some people confused the silence for arrogance. He was actually scared.
"Except for Friday night (during high-school football season),'' Solomon once said. "I wasn't frightened then.''
In 1999, a Columbia, S.C., newspaper named Solomon the state's No. 1 high-school athlete of the 20th century. Solomon originally signed to play for the South Carolina Gamecocks, but couldn't get the test scores. They suggested junior college. Instead, he jumped to the University of Tampa, where his impact was immediate.
Solomon accounted for 5,803 yards of total offense, then 16th all-time in the NCAA, while rushing for 3,299, then first among all-time college quarterbacks. After his senior season of 1974, Solomon finished 12th in the Heisman Trophy balloting and received 13 first-place votes, even while playing for a small-school program that finished 6-5.
"He was the best player in the country,'' Hoover said. "Had he played for Oklahoma, Nebraska, Notre Dame, Ohio State, some place like that, he would've won the Heisman. Freddie was a phenomenon.''
He was Michael Vick – before Michael Vick was born. He had elusive, jet-quick moves that resembled Gale Sayers or Barry Sanders.
Typical story: In a loss at San Diego State, Solomon took a quarterback draw for an 81-yard score. He broke an estimated 12 tackles, escaping twice from a few players.
Wrote Jack Murphy, then sports editor of the San Diego Union: "He's the most exciting collegiate runner since O.J. Simpson, and he moves faster than anything that doesn't burn fuel.''
In 2002, Solomon and baseball player Tino Martinez, an All-Star and four-time World Series champion with the New York Yankees, were named UT Athletes of the Century.
Solomon wasn't given an opportunity to play quarterback in the NFL. Instead, in 1975, coach Don Shula drafted him in the second round as a wide receiver for the Miami Dolphins. Three seasons later, Solomon was traded to the 49ers, where he made a bigger mark. In 11 NFL seasons, Solomon had 381 receptions and 48 touchdowns. He was part of San Francisco's first two Super Bowl teams.
"He was one of the most kind, generous and wonderful people I met in my entire life,'' said DeBartolo, who maintained a close friendship with Solomon. "It went way beyond the football.''
But football memories remained a constant reference point for Solomon, who was generally introduced or singled out at the dozens of civic events he attended each year. Solomon didn't care for such attention, nor did he want much fuss made over his recent health battle, when he had surgery to reconstruct his colon and underwent 12 rounds of chemotherapy.
"It's just another football game for me,'' Solomon said in December. "I don't feel sorry for myself. I just keep fighting. And I know I'm not alone.
"This teaches me about me. I have no regrets. How you handle something like this tells you who you are. In reality, I'm just one of thousands of people who have to compete in this game.''
Solomon is survived by his wife of 33 years, the former Delilah (Dee) Jeffers of Tampa.
Funeral arrangements are pending.
Tampa legend Freddie Solomon, 59, dies | TBO.com
Once, he was an electrifying quarterback at the University of Tampa. His broken-field, improvisational running style was ahead of its time. Once, he was a cornerstone of the 1980s-era San Francisco 49ers, when the franchise went from laughingstock to perennial Super Bowl champions.
Freddie Solomon's stunning athletic ability was enough to immortalize him. Yet he stood for so much more.
Solomon was a man for others.
Solomon died Monday afternoon after a nine-month battle with colon and liver cancer, according to family friend George Levy. He was 59. Solomon's health recently took a turn for the worse and he was hospitalized on Feb. 4.
"With all that he has done, with all that he has meant to this community, Freddie Solomon is irreplaceable,'' said Vin Hoover, who was Solomon's football teammate at UT. "He was my friend. He was everyone's friend.''
Solomon worked for two decades in community relations with the Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office, working with youths while blending football fundamentals with life lessons. He rarely spoke about his accomplishments. For some, he dished out tough love. For others, he was a mentor. To all, he was simply "Coach Solomon.''
Each winter for a dozen years, Solomon and former 49ers owner Eddie DeBartolo organized a Christmas celebration for foster children. The kids got wrapped toys, dolls or games. Their stunned caregivers, usually struggling to make ends meet, were screaming or sobbing in disbelief after opening gift envelopes filled with hundreds of dollars.
He was constantly stopped in his daily travels by people who remembered his glory days. Solomon obliged with a handshake, a hug, an autograph or a quick photo. Once, a woman asked Solomon to telephone her father, a big fan, as a birthday surprise. Instead, on his way home from work, Solomon dropped by the man's house to personally share some UT memories. They talked and laughed for hours.
"Freddie Solomon was a treasure for us in San Francisco,'' said former 49ers safety Ronnie Lott, a Pro Football Hall of Famer. "What a humanitarian he has been for the city of Tampa.''
The city gave back on Dec. 11, when the DeBartolo family, UT and the Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office combined to produce "Freddie and Friends,'' an evening affair at Falk Theatre. More than 500 people heard testimonials from Solomon's friends and former teammates.
Approximately $200,000 was raised to help fund the endowment of a UT scholarship in Solomon's name.
"I can't think of another person who is so revered in this community,'' UT president Ronald Vaughn said that night.
Solomon, visibly moved, said, "I didn't seek this, but I am grateful and I will cherish this night the rest of my life. All I know is to work hard, do your job and be a good teammate.''
Or as he put it later: "As I kneeled before the throne of Solomon, the King of Kings said unto me, 'There is more work to be done.' ''
On Jan. 11, his 59th birthday, Solomon was honored during the dedication of the Hillsborough County sheriff's annex in Ybor City, which was named the Freddie Solomon Annex.
"His is a story not of fame and fortune, but one that unlocks the human spirit,'' Hillsborough County Sheriff David Gee said.
"I've met thousands of players who came through my locker room with the 49ers, but I've never seen anyone with a heart like Freddie,'' said DeBartolo, who operates a sports and entertainment business in Tampa. "We wouldn't have reached the top without Freddie.''
Hall of Famer Jerry Rice, the former 49ers receiver who is often considered the best ever at his position, said Solomon taught him how to be a professional. Dwight Clark, another former 49ers receiver, said he didn't expect to make the team as a rookie, but felt Solomon's post-practice instruction and guidance helped him establish an NFL career.
"He helped me when he didn't really have to,'' Clark said. "But as I came to understand, that's how he has always been with everybody. He has led an amazing life.''
Solomon grew up in Sumter, S.C., where kids sometimes laughed at his stuttering problem. He was self-conscious and withdrew from others, rarely saying a word. Some people confused the silence for arrogance. He was actually scared.
"Except for Friday night (during high-school football season),'' Solomon once said. "I wasn't frightened then.''
In 1999, a Columbia, S.C., newspaper named Solomon the state's No. 1 high-school athlete of the 20th century. Solomon originally signed to play for the South Carolina Gamecocks, but couldn't get the test scores. They suggested junior college. Instead, he jumped to the University of Tampa, where his impact was immediate.
Solomon accounted for 5,803 yards of total offense, then 16th all-time in the NCAA, while rushing for 3,299, then first among all-time college quarterbacks. After his senior season of 1974, Solomon finished 12th in the Heisman Trophy balloting and received 13 first-place votes, even while playing for a small-school program that finished 6-5.
"He was the best player in the country,'' Hoover said. "Had he played for Oklahoma, Nebraska, Notre Dame, Ohio State, some place like that, he would've won the Heisman. Freddie was a phenomenon.''
He was Michael Vick – before Michael Vick was born. He had elusive, jet-quick moves that resembled Gale Sayers or Barry Sanders.
Typical story: In a loss at San Diego State, Solomon took a quarterback draw for an 81-yard score. He broke an estimated 12 tackles, escaping twice from a few players.
Wrote Jack Murphy, then sports editor of the San Diego Union: "He's the most exciting collegiate runner since O.J. Simpson, and he moves faster than anything that doesn't burn fuel.''
In 2002, Solomon and baseball player Tino Martinez, an All-Star and four-time World Series champion with the New York Yankees, were named UT Athletes of the Century.
Solomon wasn't given an opportunity to play quarterback in the NFL. Instead, in 1975, coach Don Shula drafted him in the second round as a wide receiver for the Miami Dolphins. Three seasons later, Solomon was traded to the 49ers, where he made a bigger mark. In 11 NFL seasons, Solomon had 381 receptions and 48 touchdowns. He was part of San Francisco's first two Super Bowl teams.
"He was one of the most kind, generous and wonderful people I met in my entire life,'' said DeBartolo, who maintained a close friendship with Solomon. "It went way beyond the football.''
But football memories remained a constant reference point for Solomon, who was generally introduced or singled out at the dozens of civic events he attended each year. Solomon didn't care for such attention, nor did he want much fuss made over his recent health battle, when he had surgery to reconstruct his colon and underwent 12 rounds of chemotherapy.
"It's just another football game for me,'' Solomon said in December. "I don't feel sorry for myself. I just keep fighting. And I know I'm not alone.
"This teaches me about me. I have no regrets. How you handle something like this tells you who you are. In reality, I'm just one of thousands of people who have to compete in this game.''
Solomon is survived by his wife of 33 years, the former Delilah (Dee) Jeffers of Tampa.
Funeral arrangements are pending.
Tampa legend Freddie Solomon, 59, dies | TBO.com
