Michael Patrick Shaughnessy

On January 3, 2024, we received the call no family ever wants to receive. My brother Mike had passed away. He was only 56 years old. We didn’t know why or what had happened—we just knew he was gone. Just weeks before he passed away, Mike had come down to Dallas to spend time with us, his family, for the holidays. He had planned to stay in Texas for a month, but after a couple of weeks he decided to head back to Kansas early. Before he left, he told my mom, “I love Kansas, and I am never leaving there.” January 3, 2024 was right after a cold front had moved through Kansas, and everyone was hunkered down in their homes during the storm. There was construction happening on the house apartment he was living in, and he had been there for about two years. He loved that family and loved living there. He had no idea that he would take his last breath that day. January 3rd was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and the weather was starting to warm up. Ann, his boss, wondered why it was already 3:30 in the afternoon and Mike hadn’t shown up at the barn. Technically he was off that day, but they all liked to gather and spend time together at the barn. Ann decided she should go check on him. When she did, she found him dead. His dog had thrown up everywhere but was still alive. She called the sheriff, and based on the way Mike’s hands were positioned, the sheriff told them he likely died from a medical event. We thought maybe it had been a heart attack. For the most part, he was in pretty good shape. He had been a marathon runner, an athlete most of his life, and he ate fairly healthy. Then a few days later I received a call from the coroner’s office. She asked me, “Does anyone live in the house with your brother?” I said, “No, but someone lives in the house attached to his.” She said, “You need to call them right away.” I asked why. She said, “Your brother has pink blood.” I said, “What does that mean?” She replied, “That means carbon monoxide poisoning.” I immediately called his boss and told her she needed to contact the homeowner and go over there with carbon monoxide detectors. She and her husband went over right away, and sure enough, as soon as they walked in the door, the carbon monoxide detectors all went off. How Ori, my brother’s dog, survived is a miracle. 

We still don’t know exactly how the carbon monoxide leaked into the house, but we believe it had something to do with the construction happening at the home—a construction accident. When the coroner called me again, she confirmed that my brother had died of carbon monoxide poisoning. His body was 85% carbon monoxide. This tragedy didn’t have to happen. It is tragic, heartbreaking, and our family is still healing and grieving. 

We want you to protect your family. The National Carbon Monoxide Association has put together a safety checklist to help prevent tragedies like this. Please download it and take a few minutes to review it with your family. https://www.ncoaa.us/resources/checklists