
Solomon Thomas turns his grief into strength by sharing his story on mental health and suicide prevention.
DALLAS — On January 23, 2018, Martha and Chris Thomas lost their daughter, Ella, to suicide. Their son, NFL defensive lineman Solomon Thomas, lost his little sister — and his best friend.
“I couldn’t imagine losing two kids,” Martha said. “I was barely standing after losing one.”
For Solomon, the months that followed were suffocating.
“Looking back, it doesn’t really feel like I got through it,” he said. “It just felt like I was surrounded by a bunch of darkness, trying to understand what life was anymore… some of the worst weeks and months of my life.”
As Solomon spiraled inward, his parents worried each day that tragedy would beget tragedy.
“I was petrified that we were going to lose him too,” Martha reflected.
Having just finished his rookie season with the 49ers, Solomon was dealing with so much change — and, understandably, so much emotion.
“I wouldn’t talk about it with anyone… I just didn’t want to talk about the pain,” he said. “I had so much anger, confusion inside of me… and on top of that, there’s this contradicting feeling of, I’m in the NFL, third pick in the draft. I’m supposed to be happy, but I’m feeling all these things.”
Martha knew he needed help. Despite the overwhelming fear of overstepping, she contacted the San Francisco 49ers’ Director of Player Personnel. That’s when things began to change.
One morning, Solomon’s general manager, John Lynch, approached him in the team cafeteria.
“John told me, ‘Hey Solomon, if you need help, we’ve got your back,’” Thomas said. “For me, that just gave me permission to go get help.”
Therapy became a lifeline.
“From then on, I was going to therapy and learning how to deal with my grief,” he said.
What began as survival soon grew into something bigger. Solomon started speaking publicly about Ella, his mental health struggles, and suicide prevention — even when the NFL wasn’t yet comfortable with those conversations.
“That was something I was really nervous about,” he said. “Seven or eight years ago, it wasn’t that acceptable to talk about. There was a stigma — even more of one than there is now.”
But struggling in silence wouldn’t change that stigma. He realized it would take a man’s strength to lead that fight.
“He dug into working with the Defensive Line and other mental health and suicide-prevention organizations,” Chris said. “Going out there sharing his story — saying, ‘I was down and out, so let me share my vulnerabilities so I can help others understand it’s OK to not be OK.’”
The response to his vulnerability: overwhelming.
“Hundreds of people said, ‘Thank you for your story… I’ve lost my brother, my sister, my grandmother,’” Solomon said. “But the ones that really hit me were the ones that said, ‘Your story helped me save my life.’”
While Solomon might never know how many lives he ultimately saves, he still misses his sister in life’s biggest moments.
“Sometimes in those big climaxes in life, where I’m supposed to be super happy… there’s just a part of my heart that’s missing,” he responded after being asked when he found himself missing Ella the most. “I wish I could call Ella right now.”
For Martha and Chris, those moments infiltrate everything. Movies. Seeing other children. Everything.
“Going to the games,” Chris added. “She was his biggest supporter. You could hear her above everybody else.”
Now a Dallas Cowboy, Solomon says returning home has a deeper meaning.
“The theme of being back home has really hit me,” he said. “Back to where I grew up in Coppell, where me and Ella had all these memories. Part of that is including Ella — including what she would’ve thought of me. I’m gonna continue to lean on that and just carry her with me.”
While he carries her with him, he still battles the “why” of it all. “Why has always been a tough question. There isn’t an answer for it.”
His parents agree.
“One of the complicated things with suicide is we don’t get that answer,” Martha said. “But we do get to answer how we respond.”
And for Solomon, that response is love.
“Your grief never leaves you,” he said. “It’s something I carry with me every day — and that grief is love. I’d rather feel the grief and feel the sadness so I can keep living for her and keep her name carrying on with me… because she meant the world to me. And she always will.”