An ‘old dad’ at 60, Clay Lewis Jenkins juggles preemie twins, politics and Dallas County

The commitment to welcome President Joe Biden to town had been on Dallas County Judge Clay Lewis Jenkins’ schedule for weeks. Not on the calendar was the life-and-death emergency delivery hours earlier of his premature twins, Ace and Grace.
Clay greeted the president at the airport, whisked him to the evening’s first fundraiser and, as politely as possible, made a fast getaway back to the hospital.
Five months after that scary March 20, Ramsey Jenkins jokes about the story she’ll tell her twins someday: “Daddy ditched us for the president.”
The life of the highest elected official in Dallas County government has taken a dizzying detour in 2024. The self-described “old dad” — Clay turned 60 six days after the twins’ birth — juggles governance, politics and a new chapter of marriage and parenting with 35-year-old Ramsey.
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When the two met in June 2022 at an event honoring the Texas Humane Legislation Network, Ramsey’s world was animal advocacy and care. Her knowledge of Clay and the county he oversees was mostly confined to mandates he handed down during COVID.
By the time they married in 2023, she knew what she was signing up for. “Clay wears a lot of different hats,” she said. “I share him and his time with so many people. But it’s pretty cool to see this side of him as a baby dad.”
Twins were not on the couple’s radar. Although they were devoted to one another — and to Madeleine, Clay’s teenage daughter from his first marriage — both had demanding jobs. Ramsey ran her animal-care business and served as president of the North Texas branch of the legislation network. Clay looked for solutions to festering problems in the county’s juvenile department and a troubling rollout of financial software.
Always a steadying force in 13 years as the face of Dallas County, Clay has led residents through a variety of disasters: the first U.S. case of Ebola, the pandemic, deadly tornadoes and ice storms.
That cool-under-pressure persona comes in handy — as does the couple’s relentless sense of humor — as Clay and Ramsey navigate life with twins.
Clay’s Tesla gets a workout as he zips back and forth, multiple times a day, among work at his downtown office, speaking engagements across the county and meetings and calls from his kitchen table. Participants in his Zoom sessions almost always see Ace or Grace in his arms. Chances are, if one of the twins gets fussy and he can’t do a quick handoff with Ramsey, those on the call will see him dance or make goofy faces.
Ramsey shares Clay’s laid-back attitude about most things, but when it comes to the babies, she is the watchful air traffic controller. The AC is out in half the house, the dress she planned to wear for photos is wrinkled and dinner is late getting on the table. None of it’s a big deal. She’s in her twins era — with her babies home and healthy.
Dallas Morning News photojournalist Elias Valverde and I spent hours over two weeks talking with three generations of the Jenkins family and observing the wild ride of baby bottles, county budgets and local politics.
Ramsey had told Clay she wanted children, but he figured, given his age, chances were slim. They describe learning they would have twins as a thrilling surprise — a baby sister for Madeleine and a son Clay could name after his father, who died when he was 7.
Doctors cautioned the couple early on that theirs was a high-risk pregnancy complicated by a serious abnormality in Grace’s umbilical cord. The problem, fetal intrauterine growth restriction, would increasingly constrict nutrients and stunt her development.
The life-threatening reality didn’t sink in for weeks. Clay’s hands were full at the county; Ramsey continued her behavioral work with dogs. They hiked and biked and talked with Madeleine about where to go for spring break. Their plan to take the high school senior to Paris was out of the question, but how about a beach vacation?
When the doctors said they were best off not to leave Dallas County, Clay and Ramsey realized for the first time how touch and go the situation was. “We barely made it beyond Valentine’s Day,” Ramsey recalled, “much less spring break.”
At Ramsey’s 26-week appointment, her doctor told her, “Go home, wash your hair, pack a bag and get to the hospital.” Grace required around-the-clock monitoring.
As their daughter’s brain and heart pulled the nutrients they needed, the growth in the remainder of her body, especially the abdominal region, had begun to lag badly. As a team of experts hovered day and night, everyone’s goal was to get the twins to 34 weeks while ensuring Grace didn’t tip into a crisis that could result in death.
Clay was determined to stay by Ramsey’s side. He asked for a second hospital bed so he could sleep next to her every night. He held her hand and worked via Zoom as much as possible. They did “little maraca shakes” to mark each seven days of normal ultrasounds.
At 31 weeks, it was time for delivery.
Ramsey and Clay chose their babies’ names almost as soon as they knew of the twins’ existence. Grace seemed a natural choice given how blessed they felt. Her middle name, Blaze, is the same as Ramsey’s.
Ace’s name is a mouthful — Alvah Clayburn in honor of Clay’s biological father, who shortened his to A.C., which evolved into Ace.
While nothing is guaranteed about a premature newborn’s birth, doctors prepping for the C-section delivery were confident about Ace. He was born first, at 6:23 a.m., strong and weighing 4 pounds, 9 ounces.
Ramsey and Clay redoubled their prayers as doctors prepared to remove Grace two minutes later. When they heard her cry, their fear that she would die during birth was behind them. At 2 pounds, 12 ounces, she was just over half her brother’s size.
Clay says he doesn’t cry easily, but he chokes up whenever he describes the gratitude he and Ramsey felt after so many scary, stressful days. “They had gotten Grace out alive,” he said, “and could get her into a place they could get nutrients into her.”
Both babies immediately went into isolettes in the neonatal ICU. When Ramsey left Medical City Dallas with Clay a few days later, she wept all night. It was as if they had made it to the top of Mount Everest — giving everything they had to get to delivery day — only to realize how hard the trek down would be before the twins could come home.
Initially, holding the twins was out of the question, and any “touch time” was limited. Ever so slowly, the babies improved and the rules loosened: Ace and Grace could be held for two hours each day — but only at certain times. Clay came and went as often as possible between work commitments; Ramsey was there 12 to 14 hours a day.
Since so much of the time she could only sit and observe, Ramsey had a hard time ignoring what she saw in the NICU: Would Grace develop a brain bleed or be blind? What if she has to be rushed to surgery? Would our children have to go home on medical devices? What if Grace must stay on a feeding tube? How would we manage any of this?
“You’re hoping for the best for your babies,” Ramsey said, “but you are seeing some grim things.”
Ace came home in time for Mother’s Day and Grace for Father’s Day.
Their son is the chill one; he seems to be good with whatever chaos is around him. Grace is straight out of The Princess and The Pea — if anything is the least bit wrong, she doesn’t suffer in silence.
“Ace is on a schedule,” Clay said. “Grace is on one, too, but hers is a schedule to terrorize you.”
Their sprawling North Dallas home could look like something out of Better Homes and Gardens; instead it’s stuffed with baby swings, portable beds and huge unopened Amazon boxes (more baby equipment).
The best purchase they’ve made, Clay said, is the oversized fake leather chair that rocks, vibrates, reclines, heats, swivels and has two drink holders — one for a baby bottle and one for an adult beverage. “All for the low price of $351, home assembly required,” he laughed.
As the twins’ full-time nanny help wound down in recent weeks, Ramsey said the many extra hands in this multi-generational household are priceless.
Madeleine, who divides her time between her mother’s home and Clay’s, fell in love with the twins long before they came home. She admitted she worried their crying might interrupt her sleep, but that’s not been a problem. Among her jobs is chief consultant to Ramsey on what outfits to dress Ace and Grace in.
Madeleine will leave late next month for the University of Chicago, where she plans to major in public policy. The twins busted up a lot of plans for her senior year of high school. “But they are so cool,” she said, “even cooler than spring break in Paris.”
The most senior member of the Jenkins household, Clay’s mother, 92-year-old JoAnn, got to know the twins while reading to them during her NICU visits. It was a long trek from the hospital parking lot and required careful navigation with her walker, but Nana, as everyone in the house calls her, persevered.
Even Bonbon, Madeleine’s Goldendoodle, has embraced the twins’ arrival, although her contribution to their care is to snatch and hide whichever small stuffed animal is their current favorite.
When Clay works from home, he doesn’t miss any chance to hold the twins. He rocks Ace with a rhythmic shuffle; he cuddles Grace on his shoulder and bounces in his chair.
As Clay made calls and answered texts during one of our visits, he broke into big laughter. “Ace and I were both trying to text [Collin County Judge] Chris Hill,” he explained. “I don’t know what Ace was gonna say, but I’m sure it wasn’t the same thing I planned to text.”
“Do I hear a baby?” a participant in a virtual meeting later asked. “Yes, I’m holding him,” Clay responded as he turned his camera on. He’s developed a sense of when the twin in his lap is about to show off their lungs. As Ace increasingly fidgeted, his dad switched the audio off and whispered, “funny, funny, funny, funny.”
Through the distractions, Clay holds his train of thought and seems not to miss a beat with precise questions and answers. Colleagues say he continues to do his homework and have the staff ready for whatever needs to be done.
A year ago, Clay described the state of Dallas County as a mess, pointing to failures in protecting children in the juvenile system and the “disastrous rollout” of software powering the county’s financial recordkeeping.
He expects to be more optimistic in this year’s assessment, which is tentatively scheduled for October.
Results of the state’s look into the juvenile detention center are expected in the next month or so. The investigation began after Clay repeatedly raised concerns and The Dallas Morning News revealed instances of neglect. Darryl Beatty, the juvenile department’s executive director, resigned July 19.
Clay said he will point out the financial software problems — which contributed to concerns the county would face a $40.6 million deficit this fiscal year — are mostly resolved. The county’s budget officer presented commissioners a plan in July that transferred funds among various department budgets to resolve the deficit.
“The financial issue was a lack of data and underlying computer problems,” Clay said as he shuffled in a circle comforting soft-squeaking Ace. “The juvenile situation was a lack of leadership.”
Dallas County Commissioner Elba Garcia, who has served alongside Clay since the two were elected for the first time in 2010, said he’s made no secret how much he loves being a “baby twins dad.”
Clay jokes with his fellow commissioners about “going strong after a whole four and a half hours of sleep, and Garcia said he’s managing well considering the circumstances. “Of course, he’s always been late a lot,” she laughed, “so that hasn’t changed.”
Garcia believes the twins provide Clay a new perspective as commissioners try to craft a vision for a better quality of life for Dallas County residents. “I keep telling Clay, that vision is at stake for your own children, too,” she said.
At our last visit to the Jenkins home, Ramsey’s mother, Carmen, aka “Glammy,” and stepdad Todd Weaver were there to lend a hand. At day’s end, the twins sound asleep in their swings, this big blended family sat down for dinner.
Clay said a prayer of thanks, manicotti, Brussels sprouts and salad were passed around and Bonbon — living up to her reputation as the never-trained-because-of-COVID puppy — jumped into Nana’s lap.
August has been a month of milestones. Grace hit 10 pounds and all signs point toward her being cognitively and developmentally on track. Ace weighed in at 13.6 — Clay is certain they’ll soon have a game of catch.
The twins have settled into a schedule of sorts as they turned 5 months old. Ramsey and Clay have been able to snatch time for early-morning bike rides and scheduled much-needed dental appointments. “Both of us gnawed through our mouth guards this year,” Clay said. “I guess there was more stress than I realized.”
Ask Clay about marrying a woman 25 years younger than he is and he talks earnestly about shared values and interests being more important than chronological age.
Ramsey summed it up better: “I don’t know if it’s that I have the personality of a 60-year-old man or he has the personality of a 35-year-old woman. Or more likely we meet somewhere in the middle.”
“Life with Clay is just fun,” the new mom said. She showed me her vision board of memorabilia including a photo of her best-in-show steer from high school and her certification as an animal cruelty investigator — reminders of an identity bigger than “the county judge’s wife” or “a twins mom.”
“Ramsey was a businesswoman with everything in her life under control,” Nana said, “and now here are all of us and two new babies. What a change this must be for her, yet we all get along great.”
As I packed up to leave, Clay’s father-in-law chased me down to share something he figured would have embarrassed him if said at the dinner table.
He told me he gave Clay “a hard looking-over” after the Weavers were told about the impending marriage. “That’s my daughter,” he said. “I’m protective of her.”
“You may not know this, given Clay’s a Democrat,” he said, “but we’re Republican, conservatives, and I was leery of all this.”
He eventually realized Clay hung out with people of all political stripes, and he began to see him as a family member, not a red-blue stereotype. He told me Clay is a blessing to their family.
“He is one of the most decent, generous people I’ve ever known,” Weaver said. “He adores Ramsey — and he adores those babies.”
Even if he did ditch them for four hours with President Biden the day they were born.