Ricardo Gonzalez

Ricardo Gonzalez was born on March 25, 1987, at Parkland Hospital in Dallas, Texas, and grew up in Oak Cliff, Texas, a place that shaped his grit, loyalty, and heart. He is survived by his wife, Jennifer Gonzalez, and their four children, Isaiah, Natalie, Audrey, and Ian Gonzalez. Ricardo was also the son of Jesus Gonzalez and Maria Esparza, and one of eight brothers: Fernando, Jesus, Eric, Daniel, Antonio, and Roman. Tony, who left this world too early, stayed in Ricardo’s heart every single day.

Ricardo and Jennifer started their journey together 21 years ago when they were just kids. He noticed her from afar but never found the courage to speak until one day, a walkie talkie changed everything. On the other end was Ricardo, and that first conversation sparked something real. Soon after, he was picking her up in a loud Honda he was building. Not to impress, but to be there for her. They were later married on November 17, 2012, and continued to be inseparable.

They had their own rhythm. Inside jokes, loud music, late-night talks, Yello Belly Thursdays either at the track or at home watching it in his garage. And of course, that nickname only she could say — Tooot. With Jennifer, Ricardo was always his full, open-hearted self. He was proud to be her husband, proud to raise a family with her, and anyone who saw them together could tell she was his home.

He gave each of them nicknames, not just for fun, but as his own personal way of saying, “You’re mine, and I love you.”

Jennifer was not only his wife, but she was his Love, Toot, Tooty, and his Babe. Words that only they could speak to each other to show their deepest affection, love, and gratitude.

Ricardo would sing to Jennifer, a song that he sang from the time he was 16 years old to 38 — Musiq Soulchild’s “Love” and “Don't Change.” It was their song, filled with feelings only they understood. She was his number one, his best friend, and the ultimate ride or die. She wasn’t just the woman he married. She was the one who truly understood him and stood by his side through everything. The chaos, the calm, and all the love in between.

Isaiah, his firstborn, was “Iggy, Fatso.” Ricardo was so proud to give him his own middle name, Ricardo, a piece of himself passed down. He loved watching Isaiah play football. Seeing him in pads, out on the field, brought him a kind of joy nothing else could. He never missed a game when he could help it.

Natalie, his “Little,” was his softball player. She spent countless hours with him in the garage, just hanging out, watching him work on his car. She didn’t need to be doing anything. She just wanted to be near her dad, and he loved that.

Audrey, lovingly called “JB,” was his little ballerina. She loved to dance, and he loved to watch her. He lit up when she twirled across the room like he was seeing magic right in front of him.

And then there was Ian, “Lil Bo,” the baby of the family. He was his dad’s shadow in the garage. Ian loved helping his dad with tools, watching everything he did, and racing around in his own little Power Wheels like he was gearing up for the track. He was already becoming so much like Ricardo.

Those weren’t just nicknames. They were little pieces of Ricardo’s heart, wrapped in love and memories. Each of his children brought out a different side of him, and he gave them everything he had.

Family was everything to him. Their marriage was full of laughter, loud music, dancing, deep talks, and inside jokes. Their four kids were his world, and he made sure they knew it through the way he showed up, every day. Whether it was fishing, working on cars, grilling in the backyard, or just being together, he turned ordinary moments into memories that will last forever. Ricardo loved hard, and nowhere was that love stronger than with his wife and kids.

Ricardo wasn’t just a husband or a father. He also carried the role of a brother. He was Lil T. He was the little one, but he had the biggest presence. He loved having all his brothers together, sitting around telling stories, drinking a beer, and talking trash in the way only brothers can. When they couldn’t be together, the group chats kept the bond just as strong.

He was the kind of person who walked into a room and instantly lit it up. Not with flash, but with that big grin, that wild energy, and a heart that was always ready to give. He loved everyone. Whether you were family, a friend, or a stranger, if you needed something and he had it, or even if he didn’t, he would find a way to help. That was just who he was. He helped people, not just the ones close to him, but anyone in need. He would stop for strangers stranded on the side of the road, even if the car was on fire. He helped push vehicles out of danger, offered aid when others passed by, and did whatever he could to make sure someone got home safe. His heart wasn’t just big. It was brave.

If Ricardo had a gift, it was in his hands. He loved painting cars and could fix anything. Cars, bikes, engines — you name it. If it had gas in it, he knew it. Not just how it worked, but how to make it better, faster, louder. He worked out of his garage, and he loved it. That was his zone. The music was up, the tools were scattered, and the next big idea was always just one more turn of the wrench away. He didn’t need a fancy shop. Just a jack, some light, and a reason to take something apart and make it run better than it ever had before. He was the kind of guy who would take a car others gave up on, drag it into the garage, and turn it into something beautiful. He didn’t learn that from a book. It was just in him.

Ricardo was truly a genius in the garage and a legend at the track. Always pushing it, running nitrous, blowing engines, and laughing about it like, “Guess we’re rebuilding it this weekend.”

He also loved the little things, like grabbing food at Crown Deli, hitting Aunt Stella’s Snow Cones, and you can’t forget about his favorite place, El Fenix with the kids. That’s when he was at his best. Surrounded by the people he loved, with grease on his hands and that grin on his face.

He made life feel like something special, even on regular days. He made you feel like you mattered. That’s who he was. We’ll never forget his laugh, his loyalty, his wild energy, or that heart that never stopped giving. Even when he didn’t have much, he gave everything he had. Always.

Ricardo didn’t need fancy things. He had love. He had his tools. He had his people. And that was more than enough.

We’ll miss him forever, but we’ll carry him with us in the stories, the sounds of engines, the smell of oil, the laughter, the nicknames, the hugs, and all the love he left behind.

That was Ricardo. Loving. Loud. Fearless. All in.