Paramedic’s family and friends tell wrong-way driver about devastation she caused

A wrong-way driver under the influence of multiple substances will spend the next 20 years behind bars after crashing head-on into a car driven by a 23-year-old paramedic, killing him on Florida’s Turnpike in Broward County.

Sunshine “Shine” Perez, 46, dressed in a blue jumpsuit and shackled to a wheelchair, addressed Judge Peter Holden and the family of Ezequiel “Zeke” Urrutia on Friday, speaking the longest out of anyone, including the more than 20 of Zeke’s loved ones who spoke ahead of Perez’s sentencing. Perez pleaded no contest in March, avoiding a trial.

A crying Perez started by expressing her condolences and apologies to Urrutia’s family, continually saying that she can’t imagine what his mother is going through — especially as a mother of two herself. She insisted the crash was an accident.

Though, Zeke’s family called Perez’s statements “nothing but excuses” after her sentencing at the Broward County Courthouse in Fort Lauderdale.

“Sunshine Perez killed my son,” Zeke’s mother, Tiffany Urrutia, said during the hearing.

Perez spent much of her speaking time telling Judge Holden that if she is given a chance she hopes to do good acts, including teaching others not to drink and drive, something that she says she already tells the women she is jailed with.

“I want to be able to come back from this,” she said.

But Zeke’s friends and family took the witness stand and asked Judge Holden for the maximum penalty.

“Zeke Uruttia did not die, Sunshine Renae Perez killed him,” said Eleasa Brown Thompson, a family friend of the Urrutias, said.

Brown Thompson, a retired major with the then-Miami-Dade Police Department, called Perez a “detriment to society,” adding that her family and friends have continued to make excuses for her actions.

“They want her to get one more do-over,” Brown Thompson said. “Zeke Uruttia does not get a do-over.”

Even though Perez did not receive the maximum sentence of 34 years on Friday, Zeke’s relatives said they feel at peace with the sentence.

In a letter to the court, her husband, Phillip Perez, described his wife’s traumatic childhood, including the death of her mother when she was 7. A former certified nursing assistant who lives in Hialeah, her most recent job was to assemble computer and TV displays. Phillip Perez said the crash and Urrutia’s resulting death so saddened him, he considered divorce. He stuck a photo of Urrutia inside his Bible.

“I trully (sic) believe there is 2 ways her life will go,” his handwritten letter to the judge says. “One is to recovery with A-A & church or back to her old ways. I would now like to wait for her and see her walk in a Christian life with me. Or that’s it, I’m finished with her.”

Phillip Perez spoke in court on Friday, expressing how sorry he is and said he will wait for his wife to come back home.

Sunshine Perez told police she didn’t remember what happened that night. Detectives obtained surveillance video showing her purchasing a bottle of Patron tequila at BM Liquors off Pembroke Road in western Hollywood at 8:50 p.m. that night, then visiting 23 Liquor Store off Hallandale Beach Boulevard just before midnight to buy another.

Two hours later, at 1:50 in the morning on a Thursday — Jan. 9, 2025 — she entered the off-ramp at Northwest 27th Avenue/University Drive and drove the wrong way onto the Turnpike Extension.

Zeke Urrutia was a paramedic for MCT Express and a state-certified firefighter who was applying for jobs in South Florida. He was driving a 2016 Honda Civic on the northbound side of the Turnpike — though on that span of the roadway, along the Miami-Dade/Broward line, the highway’s directions are east and west. A non-drinker, he was driving up from the Miami area, headed to the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel and Casino near Hollywood, his dad said.

He was driving in the inside lane with his seatbelt on. Perez, in a 2010 Honda Element SUV, was in the same lane, driving toward him for two miles. She never swerved, investigators said. They collided head-on not far from the Red Road exit in Miramar.

Urrutia couldn’t be revived; he was declared dead 10 minutes later, court records say. Perez, who smelled of liquor and had “bloodshot red watery eyes,” was taken to a hospital, where she told investigators that she had been at a friend’s house in Miami Gardens and didn’t remember anything after, including how she got on the Turnpike, court records recount.

Her blood tested positive for alcohol, methamphetamine and oxycodone.

This was her fifth crash in 29 years, court records say. In two of the other crashes, she was speeding, in one she was driving carelessly, the other she ran a stop sign.

Perez was sentenced to 15 years for vehicular homicide and five years for DUI manslaughter followed by 10 years of probation in which she will not be allowed to drive and is subject to weekly drug tests.

103 letters

The Urrutia family collected 103 letters to be read at the sentencing. While not all the letters were able to be read, Zeke’s father said the family had to read all the letters to make sure they would be appropriate for court.

“It was heartbreaking to have to read them, “Frank Urrutia said.

One by one, Zeke’s loved ones sat in the witness stand, letters in hand.

Cristina Diaz was Zeke’s girlfriend. The two had been dating for four years when he was killed.

The two planned to spend the rest of their lives together, but Diaz said Perez “stole the life we were supposed to build together.”

Diaz’s parents, Angela and Francesco Diaz, took the stand and spoke about how much Zeke’s death devastated their daughter. Francesco described Zeke as someone with a “strong moral compass” who “made and left this world a better place.”

“Every family gathering was better because he was there,” Angela said.

Countless stories of Zeke’s kindness, bravery and commitment to a life of servitude took up the nearly eight-hour hearing.

“Zeke was truly loved by anyone who he had a chance to spend time with,” said Ingrid Mapelli, a relative.

That was evident at his memorial service, where about 650 people gathered to pay their respects.

“The funeral home was overwhelmed,” she said. One of Zeke’s coworkers shared a story at the memorial, and Mapelli shared it at the sentencing, saying it captured the type of person Zeke was.

The coworker recalled a time when she was crying in the break room. When Zeke asked what was wrong, she told him her husband had left her, and she didn’t have enough money to pay the rent. Fearing she and her children would be evicted, she didn’t know where to turn.

Without hesitation, Zeke gave her the money that she needed to cover the rent.

“He did so from his hard-earned savings,” Mapelli said.

Zeke spent the afternoon before his death with his grandmother. He told her about how happy he was to work as a paramedic — saving people’s lives, his grandmother Martita Urrutia said.

“I have not been able to accept the fact that he is no longer with us,” she said, adding that he also told her that evening he had plans to continue his education and was even thinking of going to medical school one day.

The stories poured in from childhood friends who spoke about him being a passionate baseball player, wrestler and fisherman.

Mylinda Drury said her family became neighbors of the Urrutias in 2001, shortly after Zeke was born. She still remembers bringing the family a pan of spaghetti to help welcome the newborn home. She also bough them spaghetti after he died.

As they grew up, Zeke and her son, Nicky “Indy” Drury, became inseparable.

“Only seven months apart, but to us we might as well have been twins,” Indy said.

The two spent nearly all their time together — playing baseball, riding bikes and playing in the street, taking family vacations and making memories that lasted into adulthood. They considered each other brothers, and Indy said he often referred to the Urrutia home as his “second home.”

Zeke was even a groomsman in Indy’s wedding. It was the last time they saw each other in person before Indy was stationed in Japan with the military.

Perez kept her head down crying during most of the testimonies.

Victor Gonzalez Jr. described Zeke as “[his] greatest friend and companion.”

The two had been friends for more than two decades.

“We did everything together,” Gonzalez said. “We trusted each other without asking twice.”

He remembered Zeke as someone who was endlessly curious, always asking questions and eager to learn. That curiosity led him to spend time with Gonzalez’s uncle, a retired city of Miami firefighter, to learn more about the profession that he hoped to join.

“I model my life after Zeke,” Gonzalez said. “I was proud to be his best friend.”

Now, Gonzalez said, he is grieving not only the loss of his closest friend but also the milestones that they will never share.

“My best man won’t be there on my wedding day,” he said.

Two graduations lost

Alexis Urrutia described her older brother as more than a sibling.

“He was a built-in best friend I was supposed to have for life,” she told the court.

Alexis recalled crying at her high-school graduation because Zeke wasn’t there to celebrate with her. He never had his own graduation ceremony after the COVID-19 pandemic canceled it. She said future milestones will be marked by his absence, with her brother present only in photographs and memories.

“What stays with me every day is everything that was taken from Zeke,” Alexis said.

Their mother, Tiffany Urrutia, said that from the day “he [Zeke] was born, my heart was completely his,” she said.

Born five days before Christmas, Tiffany affectionately called him her “Christmas baby.” Now, she said, every Christmas morning serves as another painful reminder of his absence.

She remembered years spent as a baseball and wrestling mom and said Zeke “knew exactly who he wanted to be.”

“My son had big plans,” she said.

Those plans included becoming a firefighter, proposing to his girlfriend and starting a family. Tiffany said Zeke did not drink alcohol or use drugs.

Tiffany described the overwhelming grief that has followed his death, saying even the simplest daily tasks now feel impossible. She said she and her husband, who own a small business, have also faced financial hardship because there are days when they are physically and emotionally unable to work.

She accused Perez of “weaponizing her vehicle until she killed my precious son” and said she ignored repeated warnings before the crash.

Talking about a letter that Perez wrote to the family, Tiffany said it failed to take accountability for the narcotics found in her system. She also said she was offended that Perez asked whether she was a Christian, calling it an attempt to use religion to manipulate her into forgiveness rather than “a sincere expression of remorse.”

Frank Urrutia remembered raising his son through baseball, wrestling and countless days on the family’s boat, which they bought when Zeke was a toddler. He recalled Zeke’s first catch — a medium-sized trout.

“Zeke became my best shipmate,” he said.

Frank said the lessons that Zeke learned at Palmetto High School and through sports helped shape the man he became.

“In a single moment, Sunshine Perez put an end to everything,” he said.

He recalled the devastating moment when Florida Highway Patrol detectives knocked on the family’s door to tell them about the fatal crash. Jurors saw a video showing Perez driving the wrong way before the collision.

“His legacy will live through action,” Frank said of his son. The family started the “Zeke Urrutia Firefighter Scholarship” and Zeke Urrutia Paramedic Scholarship to support aspiring firefighters and paramedics.

Frank also spoke about a letter submitted by Perez’s husband, saying it acknowledged she had a history of similar behavior. While he said he respected her husband’s devotion to her, he added, “My son would still be saving lives to this day if she hadn’t killed him.”

Before sentencing, Perez addressed the court one final time, saying she accepted responsibility for Zeke’s death.

Civil lawsuit filed

Gary Catronio’s daughter and her best friend were killed in 2013 by a drunk, wrong-way driver on the Sawgrass Expressway in Broward County. He formed a non-profit, Marisa’s Way, to honor 21-year-old Marisa Catronio’s memory by advocating for wrong-way driver prevention and installation of detection systems.

Zeke’s father, Frank, showed up at his door after Zeke’s death after learning of Marisa’s Way, Catronio said on Friday during the sentencing. The two have become close.

Wrong-way driver detection systems have expanded across Florida over the years since she and Kaitlyn Ferrante died.

The Urrutias say such a system was in place but not functioning on the night their son was killed. They’re seeking accountability in civil court, suing the Florida Department of Transportation and contractors for negligence. An FDOT spokesman did not respond to requests for comments.

The civil lawsuit, filed by attorney Skip Pita in Miami-Dade County last December, alleges that a wrong-way detection system at the Northwest 27th Avenue off-ramp failed. The system, when working, flashes warning signs, alerts law enforcement to respond and displays messages on digital signs to warn drivers on the Turnpike.

“The system failed,” the lawsuit says. “Totally.”

No alerts were issued that night, and Perez drove undetected for more than two miles before crashing into Urrutia.

Police said her speedometer was stuck at 79 miles an hour; a 911 caller who shot video of Perez’s fateful mistake said she appeared to be speeding at 100 miles an hour or more, according to court records.

The lawsuit claims that after the widening of the exit ramp in 2018, the detection system failed. A repair installed between 2022 and 2024 also was faulty, the lawsuit says. The system was not properly repaired, the lawsuit says, until May 2025, four months after Urrutia died.

This story was originally published July 24, 2026 at 6:40 PM.