Memories of Richard Simmons: The Person Inside the Persona

There was something about Richard Simmons that felt like family — a sense of ease and connection that may not be logical but felt real for many of his fans.

So, when ABC recently announced a one-hour special about Richard Simmons, I was excited to watch it. I hoped it would honor the Richard I had met — the genuine gentleman behind the flashy public persona. Instead, once the show aired, I was sorely disappointed. Diane Sawyer’s shallow, onenote overview felt gossipy and oddly flat, especially compared to the exuberant, larger-than-life man I remember. The show unsettled and angered me, and I felt compelled to set the record straight; to share my personal experiences with the real Richard Simmons, in all his raucous glory.

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, I was fortunate enough to go on two Richard Simmons’ Cruise to Lose voyages — purely through the largesse of my brother-in-law. I believe he thought that my sister and I would enjoy being together, which of course we did. I’m very grateful that I had the opportunity to go on those cruises and discover who the real Richard Simmons truly was.

The cruises were imaginatively crafted to maximize the fun and allowed for many opportunities to spend quality time with Richard himself. There were Meet ‘n Greets, daily exercise classes (one disgustingly early in the morning; the other mid-afternoon), pajama parties, nutrition classes — and Richard dined with us each night. He would make grand entrances and was constantly descending upon his cruise guests like a king, crowning everyone with hugs and kisses.

No one was overlooked by Richard; not even the crew members.

In person, Richard’s energy was even more amped up than the flamboyant personality he portrayed on television, if that’s possible. His natural humor and joyousness were ebullient. He was friendly and teasing, flirting liberally with anyone who crossed his path. I remember an instance when he grabbed a sailor who had approached for an autograph, picking him up in his arms and carrying him about like true arm candy. In that moment, I realized how, in addition to being genuinely entertaining, Richard was actually powerfully strong.

Back then, I did not think of myself as a true Richard Simmons fan. Every now and then, I’d catch one of his entertaining television appearances. Plus, I owned a couple of his workout tapes and enjoyed using them. Even for someone with two left thumbs, the music paired with Richard’s energy and humor made the workouts both fun and physically beneficial.

In a 2012 interview with Men’s Health, Richard described his shtick thusly: “I do consider myself a clown and a court jester, and I do love to make people laugh, whether they’re laughing with me or at me.”

Richard seemed to inherit his “jazz-hands” flair from his mother, who was a traveling fan dancer in the 1930s and 1940s. Natural showmanship aside, Richard did not strike me as a man performing an act, but simply as Richard. There was a raison d’être behind his antics — to nurture and heal as many hurting souls as he possibly could.

Amidst all of the fun shenanigans on the cruise, Richard also scheduled more intimate events. One took place in the same room where, just a couple of nights before, a bunch of us had linked arms and belted out “We Are Family” to a karaoke track. We sisters-in- sweat were feeling cozy and a bit buzzed that night, for sure.

This night, however, was for meeting mano-a-mano with Richard. I arrived a little past eight, and the line had obviously started forming early. I caught a glimpse of Richard, seated on a bar stool with a couple of his helpers nearby, gently welcoming each guest. I walked past the door and down the long hallway to the very end of the line, but I faded by ten and went to bed.

I learned the next morning that Richard had stayed in that room until the wee hours to ensure that each soul had their interlude with him. He wasn’t there just to sign mementos or pose for pictures. No. He generously engaged with his fans, especially those who approached somewhat tentatively. Richard had a way of offering himself as a safe haven, holding space for folks in emotional pain. Where earlier in the day, we had laughed and celebrated as we danced with him; here, Richard listened and wept tears of genuine compassion.

Witnessing how Richard poured 100% of himself into all that he did, it’s natural to wonder how it was possible for him to keep up such a pace all day, every day, for years. And I guess the sad answer is, he couldn’t. Who could?

This is the conundrum of Richard Simmons: How someone who seemed to thrive on personal appearances and interactions — always present and attentive — could then turn around and suddenly just drop out of sight. Yet, this is exactly what Richard did.

According to multiple sources, on February 15, 2014, Richard was scheduled to teach an exercise class at his studio, Slimmons — a class he had taught for forty years. He had led a workout earlier that week, but on this day, he failed to show up. Without explanation, he never again appeared in public.

For years, all sorts of theories were proffered concerning his mysterious absence. There was a podcast called Missing Richard Simmons released in February 2017, that expounded on many of these, including one that said Richard was being held hostage by his housekeeper. Some even speculated that Richard remained hidden, because he was transitioning.

Ruminating over Richard’s life and his abrupt departure from the public stage, a story from the Bible came to me that felt as though it offered insight into why Richard may have suddenly “retired”.

It appears in the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 5:25-30 (NIV)

And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years.    She
had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet
instead of getting better she grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came up
behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, “If I just touch his
clothes, I will be healed.” Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that
she was freed from her suffering.

At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my clothes?”

Is there a meaningful parallel between Jesus sensing a loss of power and Richard feeling drained after so many years of giving and giving — and then giving ever more? Perhaps there came a fateful day, when Richard was preparing to go to his studio and realized he just couldn’t offer one more hug, one more cheer, one more aerobic step.

His power had finally gone out of him.

After ten years in seclusion, Richard Simmons’ life ended on July 13, 2024, just one day after his 76th birthday. According to the Los Angeles County Medical Examiner, he had suffered complications following a fall in his bathroom. Not wanting to go to the hospital on his special day, he promised his housekeeper that he would go the next day. Sadly, he passed away at some point in the night.

* * * * *

At the end of each cruise, Richard would host a big soirée, replete with ice sculptures, fun noshes and plenty of dancing. Many cruisers brought thank-you gifts for Richard. For my last trip, I had gone to a Christian bookstore to find a Bible to give to Richard.

I found a leather-bound NIV Bible, with gilt-edged pages. It was a bit hefty and felt substantial in my small hands. Two red ribbon bookmarks were sewn into the binding. It wasn’t a Bible I would have chosen for myself, and the cost was a bit rich for me at the time. As I removed it from the shelf, I looked forward to delivering it to its rightful owner, Richard Simmons.

The last morning of the cruise, as we were about to disembark, I thanked the cruise organizer for another wonderful trip. She told me she had been with Richard when he opened my gift, and that he was deeply moved by it — dubbing it a beautiful treasure.

* * * * *

In retrospect, I suppose I owe ABC and Diane Sawyer a thank-you for their trite special. They stirred my ire, which sparked a desire for justice for Richard’s memory. And it afforded me the opportunity to set sail with Richard one last time.

The real Richard Simmons — the person who lived within the persona — was a true treasure. He had a big ole caring heart and a mighty presence. I loved his authenticity and his pizzazz.

And he was the kind of man who — when my brother-in-law passed away from a heart attack, several years after the cruises — telephoned my sister to offer his heartfelt condolences.

A mighty warrior for health and happiness has left us. We shall not look upon his like again.

Requiescat in pace, Richard.