Massachusetts Cape Cod shooting victim counts his blessings Case remains unsolved, but police continue to investigate

By K.C. Myers Cape Cod Times HYANNIS, Mass. (AP) -- One year ago, Patrick Shanahan cooked dinner for 20 family members and friends in a vacation home in Dennis. He put his 5-year-old daughter, Rowan, to bed. Then he drove to Hyannis to smoke a cigar and walk along Main Street while the others cleaned up. During his leisurely stroll back to his car on Louis Street, Shanahan was shot once in the back when two men attempted to rob him. The bullet severed his spinal cord, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. Lying face down in a pool of his own blood around 11 p.m. on a summer night just two blocks from bustling Main Street, Shanahan thought it was ironic that a "Holyoke boy" would be shot in Hyannis. "It blew my mind," Shanahan, 43, said in a phone interview. "The last thing I expected was that someone would carry a gun in Hyannis besides the cops." Police say Shanahan's shooting was a random act of violence. They say Shanahan is among just a handful of shooting victims in the Cape's history who have no connection to the underworld of drugs and crime. "We just don't get many of these crimes," said Barnstable Lt. Sean Balcom. "We don't get many cases like this, that involve someone who is completely innocent." The case remains unsolved. There were no credible witnesses, no DNA left at the scene and no weapon, said Barnstable Det. Sgt. John Murphy. But, Murphy added, the case has not dead-ended. These words provide hope to Shanahan, nicknamed "Shanny" by the teenagers he counsels, and "P.J." in his hometown of Holyoke. "I don't want these guys to hurt anyone else," he said. "I want them off the streets. As for me, I've forgiven them. I've moved on." A therapist at the private Suffield Academy in Connecticut, Shanahan has had to use all his training as a psychologist to keep his own mind from heading into despair. "This is the choice we have to live with," he said this week. "I could have smoked the cigar at home." But on the night of July 16, 2010, he wanted some "P.J. time" as he called it. He left his extended family to walk Main Street and was just returning to his car, when he sensed two people walking behind him. "I had that feeling you get when you're walking too slow and someone wants to pass you," he said. He turned to greet the passers-by. They asked for his wallet and his wedding ring. There were two men, both white and in their early 20s, Shanahan said. One was slim, about 6 feet tall with scruffy facial hair, dark eyes and short brown hair. The other was shorter, about 5-foot-8, also with dark eyes and short black hair. They told him to turn around and keep walking. Shanahan said his wallet, even his car keys, were all in his unlocked vehicle, which he parked at a convenience store on Center Street. He started to run. He turned to look back once. That's when one of them fired the shot that changed Shanahan's life forever. "There are moments when I shed a tear," Shanahan said. "But most are tears of gratitude." Shanahan is grateful to be alive to watch his 6-year-old daughter grow up. "Always positive, always P.J." is a motto adopted by his friends and family, he said. But then there is the stack of medical bills. He and his family hold events to raise money for the expenses. "The bills scare the heck out of me," he said. There is the difficulty in performing routine tasks like getting out of bed or moving around the hilly campus where he works. There are bedsores, and the catheter he must use. Shanahan, who used to coach snowboarding and ran a summer adventure camp, is also curious about the police investigation, which from his perspective back home seems inactive. The last time he had meaningful contact with police was early spring, when the bullet that lodged under his collarbone was removed. At first doctors didn't dare take it out, because it was too dangerous. But as the year wore on and "maybe because of all my prayers," Shanahan said, the bullet began to work its way out. You could see it, like a pimple, pushing up under his skin, he said. During the operation to remove it, there was a detective waiting outside the operating room, Shanahan said. Now the bullet is at the state police crime lab, Murphy said. There's hope that it can be matched to a gun that might eventually be recovered by police. If a bullet is in good shape, it can be linked to a specific gun, Murphy said. In the meantime, police have been working other angles. Balcom said informants have been helpful. "We have a lot going on behind the scenes," Murphy said. "Time can be an ally to the police," Balcom said. "Two people committed this crime. More than two people know about it. Who is to say that six months down the line, these two have a falling out? Or they have a falling out with a girlfriend?" There is a seven-year statute of limitation on this crime, Murphy said. "I don't want the Shanahan family to have to wait five years," Murphy said. "But I would rather wait and build a case that will hold up in court." If they made an arrest too soon, the shooter could go free and precious years would be wasted, he added. As Shanahan adjusts to the new terrain of life in a wheelchair, he wonders if his tragedy has changed the way police work to protect innocent people. In the initial phase of the police investigation, Shanahan was offended by the assumption from the press and the public that he was shot doing something illegal, by somehow involving himself with dangerous people. "People were so quick to judge, without knowing the person or the work I do with kids," Shanahan said. "Like I deserved to be shot." Murphy, who interviewed Shanahan in the hospital, said investigators have no reason to think Shanahan was doing anything besides smoking a cigar that night. "He seems like a remarkable person," Murphy said. And as far as changing the way they do police work, Barnstable police used drug seizure money to open in April the Hyannis Station, in a former shop on the corner of High School Road and Main Street. They also have committed one sergeant, three patrol officers and officers on bike patrol to monitor the Main Street area during the summer, Balcom said. "It's expensive," Balcom said. "It takes a lot of bodies." The police are increasing street patrols not only to prevent another shooting, but also because during a two-week period last summer there were about 10 stabbings in Barnstable, Murphy said. Shanahan, meanwhile, is hoping to soon visit the Cape, where his family vacations regularly. "I do plan on returning," he said. "It's unfortunate, but what happened to me can happen anywhere." Published: Mon, Jul 25, 2011