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Fort Worth mourns T.A. Sims, longtime school board leader who served generations of students

T.A. Sims sits surrounded by three of his granddaughters, sharing a quiet moment of joy that family members say defined his life beyond public service.
Shannon Sims Alfred
/
Courtesy
T.A. Sims sits surrounded by three of his granddaughters, sharing a quiet moment of joy that family members say defined his life beyond public service.

The soft beeping of hospital monitors filled the room, steady and unrelenting.

Still, it couldn’t drown out the music.

From a speaker nearby, “I Shall Wear a Crown” played quietly in the background — a gospel song about faith, reward and the promise of something beyond this life. Around the bed, voices rose with the lyrics. Prayer, song and family — not the Holy Trinity of Scripture, but one that had shaped this group’s life just the same.

Shannon Sims Alfred held her father’s hand and leaned in close.

“I said, ‘Dad, you are the best dad a girl could ever ask for,’” she recalled. “I said, ‘You’re going to have the biggest crown.’”

They had celebrated his birthday just days earlier. On March 23, they gathered again — this time to pray, to sing and to say goodbye.

Known throughout Fort Worth as T.A., Theophlous Aron Sims Sr., the longest-serving board member in Fort Worth ISD history, died that day at 88.

For more than three decades, Sims helped shape the direction of the district — elected in 1983, later becoming its first Black board president, and remaining a steady presence in Fort Worth schools for a generation of students and families. He served under seven superintendents, and oversaw 37 graduating classes — watching hundreds of thousands of Fort Worth students walk across stages, one by one, to take hold of their futures.

But inside that hospital room, that title hardly mattered.

“My father is my champion. He is my friend,” Shannon said.

“He is my best friend.”

Who was Dr. T.A. Sims?
Full name: Theophlous Aron Sims Sr.

Died: March 23, 2026, at age 88

Family: His wife, Nancy W. Sims; son, T.A. Sims Jr.; daughters Shannon Sims Alfred and Stephanie Sims Sipho; and four granddaughters, Cara Alfred, Carlynne Alfred, Dekhota Sipho and Dallyce Sipho, who knew him as “Paw Paw.”

Role: Longest-serving member of the Fort Worth ISD board of trustees

Tenure: 1983-2019

Historic firsts: First Black president of the Fort Worth ISD board; Texas Southern’s first pharmacy student to graduate in three years

Profession: Pharmacist, co-owner of Sims Pharmacy and Sims Enterprises Inc.

Community impact: Advocate for students, college access and Black entrepreneurship in Fort Worth

National service: Appointed by President Ronald Reagan to the National Institutes of Health Sickle Cell Anemia Advisory Board

Honors: T.A. Sims Elementary School named in his honor; recognized as a “Living Legend” by the Dr. Marion J. Brooks Foundation

Funeral services
Visitation and wake: 10 a.m. Friday, April 10

Funeral: Saturday, April 11

Location: Carter Metropolitan CME Church, Fort Worth

A servant’s life

Her father often explained his work in simple terms, Shannon said.

“He would always tell me, ‘Shannon, I’m a servant,’” she said. “So whatever I can do to help somebody, that’s what I want to do.”

That belief guided him in public office, but it also showed up in quieter ways — the kind that didn’t make headlines, she said.

At Sims Pharmacy at 944 E. Berry St., Sims and his wife once filled the store with toys during Christmas — not to sell, but to give away. Years later, a nurse recognized his name when she saw it on a hospital chart and went looking for his room.

“She said, ‘He made my Christmas special,’” Shannon recalled. “She said that stayed with her all her life.”

As a longtime advocate for education, Sims also made sure students saw opportunities beyond their neighborhoods. He chartered buses and paid out of pocket to take O.D. Wyatt High School students on college visits — many for the first time.

“He wanted them to see what was possible,” his daughter said.

Forest Hill City Council member Anthony Cook said those trips left a lasting impression on himself and other students who might not have otherwise seen a path to college.

“He had a major impact on my life because he was more like a mentor to me,” Cook said. “He took a lot of us down to Texas Southern University, introduced us to college life.”

Sims’ presence went far beyond his role on the school board, Cook said.

“He was hands-on — very hands-on,” he said. “He was at O.D. Wyatt every day … talking to students, mentoring them, trying to keep us on the right track.”

Sims became something more than a public figure, he said.

“He was like a second father to all of us,” Cook said.

Dionne Bagsby Jones, whose mother Dionne Bagsby was the first woman and first Black Tarrant County commissioner, said Sims’ influence extended far beyond the classroom.

“He was the kind of person who made you feel seen,” she said. “Not just as a student or a parent, but as part of a community.”

Jones said Sims’ legacy will be the relationships he built.

“He showed up,” she said. “And when someone shows up for you over and over again, that stays with you.”

Even on ordinary days, his focus rarely shifted from others.

“His phone was always ringing,” Shannon said. “He was always trying to help someone. He never met a stranger.”

‘Paw Paw’

To his granddaughters, he was simply “Paw Paw.”

“The greatest man that I’ve ever met in my life,” granddaughter Carlynne Alfred said.

As kids, they followed him everywhere — to school board meetings, football games, community events — learning, often without realizing it, how to move through the world the way he did.

“We weren’t there just to sit and watch,” Carlynne said. “He would tell us, ‘Go speak to people. Tell them your name.’”

He pushed them toward leadership, even when it made them uncomfortable. Carlynne, for instance, was Arlington ISD’s Martin High School senior class president.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do that without him,” she said.

He also instilled a deep pride in education — and, as a Texas Southern University alumnus, in historically Black colleges and universities. For granddaughter Dekhota Sipho, that meant following his path to Texas Southern University.

“He really motivated me. This is the school I want to be at,” she said. “I want to continue his legacy here.”

Walking campus, she said, she could picture his life there — where he walked to class, where his dorm room was.

Both Cara and Carlynne also said they knew early on where they needed to be. Cara is a junior at Prairie View A&M University, while Carlynne attends Howard University as a freshman.

“When I was getting ready to go to college, I knew I was going to an HBCU,” Carlynne said. “There was no doubt in my mind.”

Even with everything he accomplished, he never changed, they said.

“He helps everyone. And for him to still be so humble, that’s all we ever saw,” Cara said.

At home, Sims’ lessons were often delivered quietly.

“It’s not as important what you do when the lights are on,” Shannon said he would tell her. “It’s more important the decisions you make when the lights are off and nobody’s looking.”

Faith was at the center of it all.

Mornings often began with prayer, while family gatherings ended with it. And through the years, one phrase became a constant — a line from a spiritual hymn the family would often sing together.

“Don’t forget the family prayer,” he would remind them — echoing the title of the song.

His wife, Nancy W. Sims, shared in that rhythm — a partnership built over 55 years on faith, family and service, she said. In his final days, she sat beside him, holding his hand, just as she had throughout their life together.

Each morning, Shannon would arrive at his hospital room and sing with him.

“Shannon, sing it again,” he asked.

They would sing. They would pray. They would sit together.

“Don’t forget the family prayer,” they exalted.

Shannon certainly won’t, she said.

A legacy carried forward 

Across Fort Worth, Sims’ impact stretches far into classrooms, neighborhoods and lives shaped by his work.

But for his family, his legacy is measured differently. It’s in the way they treat people. In the way they show up. How they lead.

“I’m going to continue to live my life as the example that he set before us,” Shannon said.

For his grandkids, that means stepping forward in college, in leadership and in the paths they are building for themselves.

“He always told us to go after our dreams,” Carlynne said. “Don’t let anybody stop you.”

Back in that hospital room, as the music played and the prayers continued, Shannon said goodbye the only way she knew how — through the words he had lived by: faith, love, gratitude.

And with the promise she whispered to him in his final moments:

“You’re going to have the biggest crown.”

Editor’s note: This story was updated April 6, 2026, to include T.A. Sims’ surviving family members, add comments from granddaughter Dekhota Sipho and clarify that his granddaughters called him “Paw Paw.”

Matthew Sgroi is an education reporter for the Fort Worth Report. Contact him at matthew.sgroi@fortworthreport.orgor @matthewsgroi1

At the Fort Worth Report, news decisions are made independently of our board members and financial supporters. Read more about our editorial independence policy here.

This article first appeared on Fort Worth Report and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.