Liz Riley Pitman, a friend and frequent attendee of Richard Simmons’ Slimmons fitness classes, appeared with him in a photo and video shoot for his website in the early-2000s. (photo courtesy of Liz Riley Pitman)

Few celebrities were more iconic than Richard Simmons, who died in Los Angeles on July 13.

The fitness guru came to prominence with a fresh approach to aerobic instruction, encouraging body-positivity and, most importantly, fun as part of the health and exercise wheelhouse. For decades, Simmons’ Beverly Hills studio was a fixture and his appearances on television were legendary, marked by his positive attitude and buoyant reserve of energy.

Born Milton Teagle Simmons in New Orleans on July 12, 1948, Simmons was raised in the city’s French Quarter and graduated with a degree in art from Florida State University. He changed his name to Richard in honor of his uncle, who paid for his college tuition. He struggled with weight growing up, which led to his inclusion as a “freak show” in the Federico Fellini films “Satyricon” (1968) and “The Clowns” (1970).

He moved to Los Angeles in the 1970s, working as the maître d’hotel at the popular Beverly Hills restaurant Derek’s. While there, he developed an interest in diet and exercise. He realized that there was a glaring need in the fitness industry for a supportive, inclusive environment to help everyday people lose weight and get healthy. Simmons took what he learned from his own weight-loss journey and launched a new kind of fitness environment with his Aerobics Asylum studio, which would eventually be christened Slimmons. With his quirky personality, he quickly gained a large following, which led to a popular 1980s talk show.

For clients and eventual friends like Elijah Jones, Simmons’ approach to exercise made a world of difference.

“I was born and raised in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, just two hours up the highway from where Richard grew up in New Orleans’ French Quarter,” Jones said. “Neither of us knew we were growing up barely 100 miles apart from each other and how our paths would cross. He was a fat kid from the French Quarter, me a fat Black kid from a small town in Mississippi. I continued overeating all the way through my adult life and eventually ended up weighing 484 pounds.”

But then Jones found Simmons.

“I discovered Richard on television on ‘The Richard Simmons Show,’ right about the time I chose to take my life back from food and my weight. Watching Richard’s show was my inspiration and I eventually lost nearly 300 pounds,” he said. “I wrote a fan letter to Richard, telling him about my weight-loss success and how much his show had inspired me. As a result of that fan letter, I was flown to Los Angeles to be a guest on his show and share my own story with his audience.”

Jones ended up moving to L.A., working as a receptionist for Simmons’ show and, eventually, became his manager. Even after returning to Mississippi over a decade later, he kept working with Simmons and remained a life-long friend.

Jones’ story is not unique. The fitness guru had a gift for fostering community, and many clients became friends, including Los Angeles resident Liz Riley Pitman.

“Richard was so many things to so many people,” Riley Pitman said. “Everybody’s relationship with him was special and unique.”

Riley Pitman related that at one point, when she had lost a job, he offered to write a blank check for whatever she needed.

“I never took him up on it, but the fact that he had me up to his home and made the offer that meant a lot. I know I’m just one of many stories like that,” she said.

Marc Pasquinelli never took one of Simmons’ classes and only encountered him one time, but his kindness is seared into Pasquinelli’s memory.

“My friends and I were deep in the throes of putting together our costumes for West Hollywood’s Halloween Carnival [in 2013],” Pasquinelli remembered. “I went to Aardvark in Hollywood in search of a perfect trench coat for my Mary Poppins.”

He noticed Simmons’ presence in the store not long before he found the perfect coat to complete his ensemble, though the $70 price tag was a bit steep for Pasquinelli. But when he went to the register, the attendant told him that the coat had “been taken care of” – by Simmons.

“I have no idea how or when he did it, but he’d kindly paid for my coat,” he said. “I went right over to him and asked, ‘Are you sure?’ But he reassured me that he was happy to do it.”

This kind of kindness was just who Simmons was.

“Richard had a unique gift: making people feel good about themselves, no matter what they weighed,” Jones said. “He recognized the emotional baggage that came with being overweight but insisted that we not let it get us down. Richard made ‘fat acceptance’ OK before it became a thing, even in body-conscious Los Angeles. But his most special gift was his ability to connect with people across physical, economic and social structure. He made the people who changed his beds at the hotel feel as special as the CEOs of those hotels.”

Jones said that he spoke to Simmons just before his death and reminded him of his “invaluable ability to make people smile and laugh.”

“He had the unique ability to take an hour of music and dance and turn it into magic,” Riley Pitman said. “I saw people change in so many ways physically, mentally. [There was] no one like him … Slimmons was the second happiest place on Earth. He was a magic man.”