Ridgeland mother accepts diploma for her murdered son at graduation

The line of soon-to-be graduates snaked around the bleachers as music played from the speakers. One by one, the Ridgeland-Hardeeville High School Class of 2017 processed onto the track, girls teetered in their too-high heels, boys flashed their sunglasses, all grinned ear-to-ear as their four years came to a close Friday night.

Angel Simmons, 39, was among them. She had no pomp, all circumstance that brought her to be included in the graduation.

Her son, Jamonte “Monte” Markal Simmons, was murdered in the fall of his junior year. The Ridgeland mother decided two weeks before the ceremony to carry a framed photo of him, one taken days before his death in November 2015, up onto the stage and accept his honorary diploma.

She herself had never graduated high school. Pregnant with her first child, Jaquasha, she dropped out of Jasper County High her junior year.

Simmons eventually completed her GED, three years after her classmates turned their tassels. There was no ceremony when she completed the program, “just a certificate in the mail,” she said.

Jaquasha graduated from Ridgeland-Hardeeville High School three years ago. Too excited to sit in the bleachers, Simmons stood by the gate in the blazing sun and watched her daughter do something she never did.

And now, encouraged by Monte’s friends, she would do what her son couldn’t.

Lining up to graduate

At 6:12, 48 minutes before the ceremony began, a friend spotted Simmons near the bleachers and asked softly, “Are you ready?”

Simmons tipped her hand back and forth, a nonverbal way of saying, “Not really.”

Simmons slowly worked her way through the crowd to the cafeteria, where the graduates were instructed to wait. A group of girls stopped her on the way to the school.

“Angel, take a picture with us,” one pleaded. She obliged, because Monte would have. He loved taking pictures.

Simmons entered the cafeteria in her black romper-dress. She decided not to wear the cap and gown. Her black hair is streaked with red highlights, the school’s colors.

A school administrator handed her a red stole to slip around her neck, the left side printed “RHHS” in fancy script, the right “Class of 2017.”

A principal popped his head into the cafeteria. “Line up,” he yelled.

138 students cheered. One began blaring hip-hop music from his iPhone. Some started to dance. Girls fixed each others’ crooked mortarboards. “Which side is my tassel supposed to be on?” someone asked.

Simmons stood out and she recognized it. This, she said later, was the hardest part of the ceremony.

In a corner of the cafeteria, Simmons waited for the students with S-last names to be called.

Overwhelmed by the noise and happiness, “I kept thinking I would hear his voice,” she said.

McKayla Haupt, a childhood friend of Monte’s, came up to offer Simmons a hug. They took a Snapchat selfie, both in tears.

‘My handy man’

Monte wanted to be a veterinarian.

And he had the math grades to prove it, Simmons said.

An animal lover, he volunteered at Jasper Animal Rescue Mission on Saturdays and Sundays. One time, he brought three turkeys home from the shelter.

“Normal,” was all Simmons said of that day. Monte had two dogs, three cats, an iguana and a fish tank.

Monte’s father died before he was born, so as the man of the house, Monte had a protective instinct.

He walked his siblings to the bus stop. He helped Simmons fasten her jewelry. He cut the yard, fixed squeaky door hinges and unplugged the kitchen sink.

“He was my handy man,” Simmons said.

On his 18th birthday, his mother cooked pineapple fried rice with shrimp, one of his favorite meals, and bought him a vanilla-frosted cake from Piggly Wiggly.

Five days later, he died.

November 14, 2015

A fight over a four-wheeler ended with a neighbor allegedly shooting and killing Monte in a wooded area between the homes on Rice Shire Road in Ridgeland's Spring Hill community.

The 15-year-old neighbor was charged with murder and possession of a weapon, then Jasper County Sheriff Gregory Jenkins said. He had a previous criminal history and was taken to the S.C. Department of Juvenile Justice Detention Center in Columbia. He is still awaiting trial, WTOC reported.

“Monte died 15 feet from my house,” Simmons said.

To avoid daily reminders of his death, she packed most of his belongings — his toothbrush, some school papers, the rag he used to wipe his shoes clean — into boxes.

“I had to,” she said. “I need to heal.”

Part of the grieving process was quitting her job as a home health care aide.

“I can’t take care of sick people no more, knowing they will pass,” she said.

The class clown

“It’s so weird not having him here,” Tyshawna Payne, 19, said in the cafeteria, 28 minutes before the ceremony started.

Payne knew Monte since kindergarten. They lived five minutes away from each other.

He was the class clown and would be working the room, table by table, cracking jokes if he were here, she said.

Payne will study criminal justice at Technical College of the Lowcountry this fall.

Like Simmons, Payne was pregnant her junior year of high school. She asked Monte to be her son’s godfather.

She didn’t have the heart to ask anyone else after he died.

‘The day we’ve all been waiting for’

Throughout the entire 80-minute ceremony, Simmons didn’t cry.

Not when she saw his name in the program next to two plus signs, the “++” indicating “deceased.”

Not during the salutatorian address, when Davontay Dopson asked for a moment of silence for the classmates who weren’t there.

Not during the speeches, all of which looked to the future — “This is the day we have all been waiting for” and “Let’s focus on the next four years instead of the last four” and “Behind you are your memories and in front of you are your dreams” — and Simmons was hit with the reminder that Monte doesn’t have these.

The announcer called Monte’s name and Simmons crossed the stage. The entire class stood in recognition of their friend. Parents, families and friends cheered from the bleachers onto the field. Simmons paused, looked up.

“That much love for him, I wasn’t expecting everyone to be screaming,” she said.

She will hang the honorary diploma in her living room, above the fish tank.

Letting go

After the ceremony concluded, Simmons processed out with the other students, down the football field, along the track, through the parking lot.

She found her family waiting by the school and hugged them. It was then that she started to cry.

Her family handed her a bunch of balloons. There were red stars and “Congrats Grad!” and a scholarly-looking owl with specks.

All around her, students cheered. The parking lot was pandemonium. Cars wanting to leave, students wanting to celebrate. There were parties to attend, cake to be cut.

She clipped Monte’s picture to the balloons, looked up to the sky.

And let go.

This story was originally published June 3, 2017 at 6:36 PM with the headline "Ridgeland mother accepts diploma for her murdered son at graduation."