In the two decades I knew Ed Ramey, I cannot remember ever seeing him without a smile. Good-natured and jovial, he epitomized civility in the fractious political world. His passing last week will leave a hole in both the Colorado legal world and political landscape.
I first met Ramey while still enrolled at the University of Colorado School of Law, interning at a firm that specialized in election law. He worked with attorneys on the opposite side. That made very little difference in how he treated me, though.
Many lawyers approach every interaction with opposing counsel like a medieval duel among knights in armor, with every word or movement calculated and meant to confer an advantage. The other side can only be treated with caution, distrust and malice. Support staff and interns only exist as extensions of their vassals and must be treated the same, if recognized at all.
Not Ramey.
He literally came over to shake my hand and introduce himself. And he was smiling when he did it. A disarming smile that invited me to drop my guard and reciprocate. He genuinely enjoyed meeting new people and attorneys. He almost seemed to light up when he found someone he had not met before, particularly someone young and just starting out.
That left a lasting impression on me as a not-yet-lawyer.
In the 20 years since, I have found that approach dismayingly rare. The election bar in Colorado is quite small. Most of us know each other and have either worked against or with each other numerous times. As a practice bar, it is generally cordial because we know we will all be working on cases with each other again soon.
But Ramey did not settle for cordial. He made the practice of law friendly and welcoming. Given the increasingly polarized political world, that he did so in the specialized practice of election law made it all the more extraordinary. I never once saw him dragged into the mindset of us-against-them.
That should not be mistaken for a failure to represent his clients with the utmost conviction. Ramey could grasp difficult legal arguments and explain them in the simplest terms that always seemed to make his conclusions seem like common sense. He swayed judges and justices with his reasoned approach.
That worked well for him more often than not. He won regularly and often set precedent doing so.
For example, a few weeks ago I wrote about the Title Board process and the cast of characters who appear at hearings. I counted Ramey among the regular attendees I enjoyed running into. At the podium, he could sway the Title Board to move forward on an initiative his clients liked or deny one they opposed. He was equally adept at briefing the Colorado Supreme Court on appeal.
In recent weeks, I have read several of his briefs for guidance and cited the Supreme Court cases that ruled in his favor. Specifically, less than two months ago the Supreme Court issued a decision that both reaffirmed the difference between a “fee” and a “tax” under Colorado law and clarified how the “single-subject” rule for initiatives operated. In both instances they agreed with briefs Ramey had written.
I quoted from the case liberally in recent arguments and briefings of my own. Not just because I like Ramey, but because he had sent a shockwave through the election law community with that win. Supreme Court decisions uphold Title Board actions close to 90% of the time — so when someone persuades them to deviate from that pattern, as Ramey did — we all take notice.
But Colorado as a whole would be well served to take greater notice of the general precedent Ramey set for us.
We can disagree and not be bitter and angry. We can welcome others, even those across the political aisle, with a handshake and a smile. We can be more than cordial, but friendly, even while holding firm to our convictions. We can share our gifts with grace and gratitude.
Of course that spills over to everyday life as well. I suspect that was the point for Ramey — he acted in that manner because that is who he was, not just who he created as an attorney persona. He had the ability to live an authentic life in all aspects. He willingly shared it with anyone who had the fortune to meet him and learn.
I hope I learned well. I try to emulate the kindness he extended to me, both to seasoned professionals and those just beginning their careers. Even after 20 years in practice, I still strive to live up to his high standards for legal practice. And I try to share the gifts I have with others.
In my case, the decision to represent detainees in the Aurora Detention Facility can be directly linked to Ramey’s influence on me. For years he helped prisoners who needed a lawyer. I remember him telling me about it during a hearing break — and updating me on occasion when our paths crossed. He led by example and hoped people like me heeded.
I will miss Ed Ramey, his warmth and his smile. I will miss the smile he brought to me whenever our paths crossed. But I will also remember to keep working on the lessons he gifted to me in our time together. That is the best way to honor him.
Mario Nicolais is an attorney and columnist who writes on law enforcement, the legal system, health care and public policy. Follow him on BlueSky: @MarioNicolais.bsky.social.
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