Jesse and his wife Alison Simmons have been each other’s support system since the beginning. The two remain inseparable, Jesse’s accident only brings them closer to one another. Photo by Victoria Gomez

For nearly a year, Jesse Simmons has lived with the constant reality of never walking again.

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Doctors say it’s unlikely. Family says it will take a miracle. Friends say it will take God.

Simmons says all it takes is determination.

Will I be alive to hug my wife and grandkids again?

“We’ll get there. It may be another week. It may be another month. It may be another year, but you just get up and go every day,” Simmons says.

On Aug. 3, 2023, East Dallas resident Jesse Simmons began his day like he always does: waking up around 4:45 a.m. and snuggling up to his wife before getting ready for work at Jesse’s A/C & Appliance Service, a company he owns.

During his morning routine, he saw someone trying to break into his truck. This wasn’t a first. He grabbed his gun and at around 5:30 a.m., Simmons walked outside to confront the man.

Then he was shot.

The shooter vacated the scene as Jesse laid there on his porch, thinking to himself, “Will I be alive to hug my wife and grandkids again?”

Minutes later, Simmons was taken to the hospital, leaving his wife behind to answer questions with officers.

“It felt like I was living in a nightmare,” his wife Alison Simmons recalls. “I was just glad he was alive.”

For the next several months, he’d spend hours in and out of physical therapy relearning how to walk while rebuilding his strength and growing new muscles.

“It’s just learning a new way of life and I’m gonna figure things out … he’s not gonna take my life from me,” Simmons says. “And that’s been my attitude since day one.”

A journey toward recovery

When Simmons was shot, the bullet pierced through his stomach hitting his kidneys, liver, and L3, which controls spinal nerves that affects the lower thighs, knees and hips.

For two months, Simmons was hospitalized at Presbyterian Hospital, going in and out of surgeries and doing physical therapy at Baylor Scott & White.

When he returned home on Sept. 28, 2023, he started hitting milestones doctors didn’t expect.

When Simmons first got to the hospital, he couldn’t move either leg. Then, he got a little bit of movement in his left knee, getting his muscles stronger and his nerves to reconnect.

I’m just gonna keep pushing on trying to walk.

“Doctors didn’t think I would ever have a chance to walk again,” Simmons says. “But, the first thing you gotta do is tell me I can’t do something and I’ll do everything I can to prove you wrong.”

Whether it was doing 30 sit ups instead of 15, fighting through nerve pain during his mobility training, or getting up each day to work on his strength, he was determined.

“To see him come this far is just amazing and it just gives me so much hope,” Alison says.

“When this all first started, there was no way I could put a shoe on, nothing. Now I’ve dressed myself in the mornings,” he says. “[I learned] how to survive in a wheelchair, even though I’m planning on getting out of it.”

On Jan. 17, Jesse made significant strength improvement by lifting his left leg, but his right leg could still hardly move. On Feb. 13, he passed his driver’s test and got his license. On Feb. 16, Simmons was able to crawl, moving his right leg for the first time, slowly moving with both legs.

Today, he can move both of his feet, a step closer to his dream of walking again.

“I’m just gonna keep pushing on trying to walk,” he says. “My goal is to hopefully have some more progress by June, which is my birthday.”

 

The fear

Simmons remains optimistic. Alison remains in fear.

The morning of the crime, Alison was awoken by the flashlights of two officers when they told her Jesse had been shot. In a dazed panic, she asked if he was alive, to her relief he was, and for just a minute she was able to tell him “I love you,” before he was taken by the ambulance.

As she stood in the hall screaming, because it was the only way to let out her emotions, she wondered why someone would do this.

For nine months and counting Alison sits with three questions: “When I come home will he be there? Will he make it through the night? Is he going to be there in the morning?”

“I’m thankful that he gets to do all the things that he’s able to do now even though sometimes it scares me. It’s what he has to do to continue to be who he is,” she adds.

It’s been a challenging time for the two. As a way to gain support and keep the community connected on Jesse’s recovery, Alison began sharing updates on Facebook.

Part of my motivation that helps me is the community standing behind me pushing me saying, ‘Hey, good job, keep it up.’

Community Support

Jesse has been well-known within the community with 15 years of involvement in the East Dallas Networking group, as a founding member of 100 Men of Dallas and a board member of the East Dallas Chamber of Commerce.

When the neighbors heard what happened to Jesse, they couldn’t believe it. But without hesitation, instant support poured from those who knew him and those who were strangers.

“Part of my motivation that helps me is the community standing behind me pushing me saying, ‘Hey, good job, keep it up,’” he says.

Chuck Kobdish, chairman of the East Dallas Chamber of Commerce, met Jesse through the chamber in 2008, and for 16 years the two have remained close.

“It was surreal,” Kobdish says as he recalls when he received the call from Jesse’s sister-in-law. “It was a horrible day for Jesse. But it was a bad day for all of us.”

“The way our East Dallas family has pulled together and rallied support for Jesse’s family has been nothing short of heartwarming. It’s been a tragic story, but it’s certainly one of resilience and healing,” Kobdish says.

The staples in Simmons’s life remain the same. He’s still attending the Greater East Dallas Chamber of Commerce networking luncheons, grabbing a scotch at Goodfriend Beer Garden & Burger House, running his business and spending time with family.

“I’m alive; it’s better than being dead. I still get to hold my grandchildren, my kids, my wife,” he says. “Even if I never walk again, I’m still alive.”