7 June 11 - 17, 2026 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents build. Tucked behind the development but visible from this side of the street is a large tent. The same process as before follows: The group of outreach workers crosses the yard, yelling hellos. This time, a woman emerges. She is short and tanned, wearing a billow- ing pair of jean shorts that are held up by a belt. A bedazzled canister of pepper spray hangs from a pant loop. The woman has no issue sharing her name with Sims, but for this article, she will be referred to by the initial J. J tells Sims that her husband is inside the tent sleeping and that the two have been homeless for years. They lived in Dal- las before the pandemic and came back last fall. On one of their first nights back in town, their wallets and IDs were stolen while they slept. Sims begins typing J’s name into a system called HMIS, which is used by shelters, law enforcement, hospi- tals, housing providers and social workers to keep tabs on anyone who has previously “touched” the system and coordinate re- sources. She’s able to pull up evidence that the couple stayed at Austin Street shelter prior to COVID, and she begins logging their updated needs. “Code compliance could be nicer than just always threatening to throw us in jail,” says J, who adds that the condo developer bought them the tent and pays them a small stipend to live on the property and scare off copper thieves. Sims answers that property owner per- mission doesn’t make outdoor camping al- lowable under code compliance or law enforcement. J is immediately open to housing when Sims asks, but says she won’t go to a shelter. Her husband suffers from night terrors, and because shelters segregate sleeping quarters by gender, she wouldn’t be there to comfort him. Sims nods along and begins making calls to track down J’s birth certificate, which was stolen as well. “Y’all seem like good, responsible neigh- bors,” Sims says, and J answers: “We do try.” “I want to be transparent that things might start to move pretty quickly here,” says Sims, who is scrolling through registries and landlord contacts and available unit lists. J clasps her hands in front of her waist and says, “I’m OK with that.” It takes around 20 minutes to get J’s details uploaded into the system. In that time, her birth certificate is ordered, and a social worker is assigned to her and her husband’s case. Sims is certain that the outreach team will be able to get J into housing within a couple of weeks. Kahn said that 95% of homeless individuals who are offered interventions that “support that person to move back into housing and sta- bility” ultimately say yes to the outreach. Many of those who say no have complex mental health or substance abuse needs, and the team bands together behavioral health experts, hos- pitals, law enforcement, outreach workers and mental health facilities to develop specialized plans for those individuals. “Persistent engagement” can be key, as some people see what Sims’ team is offering as too good to be true. After visiting J, the team speaks with a hesitant male-female duo who say they are hanging out at a South Dallas structure tucked into the foliage but sleep at a shelter. Next is a man whose tent is within spitting distance of the Music Hall at Fair Park. He is quiet and reluctant to talk. Like J, he says the property owners allow him to be there. Again, Sims warns that that may not matter to enforcement teams. Finally, there is a man sleeping under an Interstate 30 entrance ramp. A green tarp hides him from view, and as Sims ap- proaches, he pokes only the top of his head out of the shelter. A trio of outreach work- ers speaks with him for a few minutes, and finally, he accepts a package of hygiene products. “He’s not super interested,” Sims says later as she walks back to her car. She knows the man, who can’t be older than 30. This under- pass is used for parking during the State Fair of Texas, and she spoke to him last fall while vis- iting with her family. It was a no then, too. Someone from the outreach team will re- turn in a couple of days to try again. “The part that I try to make clear to peo- ple is that I’m from this community, I live in this community, and I’m not OK with people sleeping outside,” Sims said. “I don’t feel like [anyone] should think this is the only option available to [them].” ▼ RENTALS & CRIME LONG-TERM UNANSWERED QUESTIONS WITH AN STR BAN TIED UP IN COURT, WHAT CAN DALLAS DO ABOUT SHORT-TERM RENTALS? BY EMMA RUBY A fatal shooting at a West Dallas short-term rental (STR) over Me- morial Day weekend has reinvigo- rated conversations surrounding the city’s role in regulating the stays. Three people were killed, and another was injured after a party hosted at a rented home erupted in gunfire early in the morn- ing on May 24. Neighbors of the property told WFAA that they attempted to report the gathering to Dallas police earlier in the night, but the department said it had no re- cord of those calls. “There’s no shame anymore,” one neigh- bor, Ernesto Martinez, told WFAA. He urged city leaders to hold those involved in the shooting and those renting out the home in his neighborhood accountable. When it comes to cracking down on STRs, the city is in a bind. Three years ago this month, the horseshoe overwhelmingly passed a ban on short-term rentals in resi- dential neighborhoods. The ordinance would have wiped out 90% of Dallas’ short- term stays, but it’s never gone into effect. It’s been hung up in court, with Dallas on the losing end of appeal after appeal. The ordinance is now before the Texas Supreme Court. During the May 26 Finance Committee meeting, Council member Kathy Stewart said she hoped the court would take the latest homicide investigation into ac- count when considering how some STRs operate across Dallas. Council member Chad West, on the other hand, argued that the city need not wait for the courts to weigh in before taking another swing at regulation. >> p8
