He lived everyday like it was his last.
Shawn viewed every day as an opportunity for adventure. Whether it was yoga, hiking, or swimming, he was constantly on the move. His favorite vacation, he told his mother Debbie, was to Cedar Point because of the roller coasters. But adventure did not always mean adrenaline rushes and the thrilling outdoors. Loving people proudly and loudly required just as much bravery. He was never shy about showing his affection—whether it was to his beloved siblings Kaley, Molly, and Will, to his cousins, to his friends, or to complete strangers. His catchphrase was: “Hug therapy could change the world,” and he was determined to change it by any means necessary. When he got his first job, he was ecstatic about being paid—not to use the money on himself, but to share it with anyone who needed it. He often bought food or coffee for unhoused people, and always extended his hug therapy to them, too.
Shawn was incredibly intelligent, with a sharp memory. Debbie attributed these skills to his compassionate nature and keen observation of people: “He was such an empath and could make anyone laugh and feel loved. It helped many people overcome a lot of hard times.” Following graduation, Shawn was excited to pursue a career as a pipefitter and join the union.
Shawn’s experience with substance use disorder (SUD) began early in high school. He strived to recover, but tended to put others’ needs before his own. Often, it left him vulnerable, drained, and critically exposed to the public eye. He advocated to change the stigma surrounding SUD and was open about his own struggles. His goal was to help others in similar situations experience kindness, compassion, and support—even if he himself did not receive it. For his family, the helplessness was crushing. “The disease took my baby away before his life even started,” Debbie said. “You could love and support him, but not change it.”
Shawn passed away one month before graduation. His loss devastated his family and all the people who relied on him to bring the sunshine to their days. A close friend of Shawn’s shared his grief in a narrative prior to their graduation ceremony: “Nobody should be taken this way so young, a genius, and a sweetheart. I have learned just how fragile life is, and just as much about the indiscriminate nature of death. Life should be cherished, but first, we need to be reminded to keep on living. I still have my rose from Shawn’s grave, and I keep his prayer card in my bag at all times, along with those of other loved ones I have lost. I taped a picture of him to my television set. The grief comes in waves and it comes randomly. Sometimes, before I even realize it, I’m a quivering mess on a public bus.”
Debbie misses Shawn’s smile and his hugs. She takes every opportunity to share Shawn’s story to continue his goal of destroying the stigma surrounding this disease. “I feel that the stigma of addiction needs to be changed. People should love and support those suffering from this disease, not humiliate and blame.”
Shawn’s mother, Debbie O’Neill, provided the information for this narrative.
February 17, 2000-April 27, 2018-Age 18
Portrait Artist: Shawn Faust
Narrative Writer: Angela Day
