Jimmy Lee Dean was beaten within an inch of his life in a brutal anti-gay hate crime near the Cedar Springs strip 5 years ago this month
DASHED DREAMS | Jimmy Dean, shown strumming his guitar after his release from the hospital in 2008, was once an aspiring musician. But he’s lost interest and can’t play well due to his injuries. ‘I still remember where the chords are, but for some reason, my hands don’t get it anymore.’ (John Wright/Dallas Voice)
Amid all the recent victories for LGBT equality, it would be easy to grow complacent. It would be easy to forget where we came from and what we’re fighting for, to become so satisfied with a little progress that we let down our guard against those who still hate us and actively seek to harm us — politically and, all too often, physically.
So perhaps this is an appropriate time to recall that just five short years ago this month, a man was beaten within an inch of his life behind the Cedar Springs bars in a brutal anti-gay hate crime.
Jimmy Lee Dean survived the attack, which left him hospitalized for 10 days, but he told me this week he’ll probably never fully recover.
“I can’t even stand for more than 20 minutes at a time, because my equilibrium is still off,” Dean said. “There’s still no sense of smell. I haven’t smelled anything for five years.
“My jaw is still broken in at least two places,” Dean said. “It’s off the hinge on the left, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m stuck like this for life, unless I win the Mega Millions.”
Dean was walking home along Dickason Avenue, just on the other side of the bushes from the parking lot behind Station 4, in the early morning hours of July 17, 2008.
The two suspects, Jonathan Gunter and Bobby Singleton, approached Dean, and an argument ensued. Gunter and Singleton yelled gay slurs while they pistol-whipped Dean with a 9mm Glock handgun, then kicked and stomped his head, face and body as he lay motionless in the middle of the dimly lit street. Gunter and Singleton, both of Garland, were arrested and charged with aggravated robbery because they were found in possession of Dean’s wallet and Zippo lighter.
They admitted to police they had been drinking heavily and traveled to Oak Lawn because they needed money and thought it would be easier to rob a gay man. It was an all-too-common occurrence at the time, with the Cedar Springs area ranked as high as No. 2 citywide for violent crime before the problem finally got the attention of Dallas police.
After emotional trials attended by a handful of LGBT activists in 2009, Gunter was sentenced to 30 years, and Singleton was sentenced to 70 years. The Dallas County District Attorney’s Office didn’t seek hate crime enhancements in the cases, because the charges were already first-degree felonies. However, prosecutors did use the element of anti-gay bias to try to convince jurors to hand down harsher sentences.
Prior to the attack, Dean was an aspiring musician who sometimes performed on Cedar Springs for tips. He said he was about three months away from “getting out there in the music industry,” but he’s since lost interest and no longer even plays his guitar.
“When I sit down and try, it’s just gone,” Dean said. “I still remember where the chords are, but for some reason, my hands don’t get it anymore. I thought that would always be there. I thought that was one of those things, once you learned it you’d never forget it, like riding a bicycle, but evidently that’s not true.”
Dean said he’s afraid of people and never goes out alone — partly because he fears becoming a victim again, and partly because he’s ashamed of how he looks. He needs reconstructive surgery that would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, and he blames doctors at Parkland hospital for failing to help despite a payment of $50,000 from a victim’s compensation fund.
“My face is so messed up that I look like a vagrant living under a bridge,” Dean said.
After Gunter and Singleton were sentenced, Dean told himself he had forgiven them. But that has since changed.
“I cannot be as forgiving, because five years of their handiwork has really, really changed my life,” he said. “In fact, I basically have no life because of it. That may be partly me being afraid to have a life, but I wouldn’t be afraid to have a life if it weren’t for what they did. I cannot forgive them.”
Dean also said he doesn’t believe Gunter and Singleton will serve their full sentences. He has moved out of state and asked that his new city of residence not be published.
“I don’t trust our legal system, and I don’t believe these boys will spend all that time in prison, and I don’t want them to know where I live, because if they come to my door, they won’t go to prison the second time,” Dean said. “I hate to say that, but I’m not taking another hit in the jaw just because of who I am.”
John Wright is senior editor of Dallas Voice.