Cork woman: My life without Seán ... “I want him back”

SEÁN Feeney should have lived to celebrate his 30th birthday on November 25. He should have watched his son Jay, aged five, and stepson, Nathan, aged 16, grow into fine young men.

“We should have grown old together,” says Sam Byrne, Seán’s partner, who is facing into her first Christmas without him.

But a long future together wasn’t to be.

Sean, from Ballincollig, died on September 3, just metres from his home in Cobh, while chasing youths engaged in anti-social behaviour. He suffered a suspected heart attack, collapsed and died.

Sam doesn’t want her loved one to have died in vain.

“People in Cork suburbs, Douglas, Carrigaline, Ballincollig, like us in Cobh, are putting up with anti-social and aggressive behaviour from some gangs of youths,” says Sam.

A lot of elderly people around here have been affected. They are terrified.

What can be done?

“I’ve contacted Micheál Martin, Justice Minister Helen McEntee and other TDs for more garda powers to deal with juveniles who misbehave by fining the families involved, and for interventions to rehabilitate youths to be mandatory,” says Sam.

“These are not innocent kids who ring the door- bell and run away. It’s pelting stones and apples. Shouting abuse.

“This town, like many others, has been affected by teenage anti-social and aggressive behaviour. People are fed up of it,” says Sam.

She said youths have been damaging properties and trespassing.

The guards are under-resourced. For a town that has grown over the years, the garda resources have not kept up.

Sometimes, the guards’ hands are tied.

“When the guards bring the kids engaging in anti-social behaviour home, they’ve been told to ‘Mind your own business’, or ‘That wasn’t my child’, or ‘You picked up the wrong child’.”

There seems to be no respect for the law, she said.

“The lack of respect for the guards is unbelievable,” says Sam.

She wants to create a Seán Feeney Law.

“Myself and Seán’s mum, Eileen, want a Seán Feeney Law so that kids under 18 and their parents should be responsible for their actions through a fining system,” explains Sam.

I think the guards should have more power in these situations and I think a fining system would affect parents.

Sam remembers falling for Seán.

“I used to do my food shop and fill up on petrol on Monday mornings at Applegreen garage,” says Sam, smiling at the memory she cherishes.

The smiley lad with the mop of curly hair took her fancy.

“He was all smiles and chat when he greeted you at the till,” says Sam.

“I liked him straight away.”

She wanted to get to know him.

“I wanted to find out who he was,” says Sam. “I asked Nathan’s aunt to help me. It was like an FBI search!”

Seán Feeney was on Facebook.

“We sat in the car and looked him up, I said it was like stalking!”

Her rugby friends urged Sam to message him. What was the worst that could happen?

“I gathered up some false courage and messaged him,” recalls Sam.

Seán remembered the bright, bubbly girl in the queue at the till in the garage. He was into rugby like she was.

“He said it was great to put a name to the face,” says Sam.

I play rugby with the Cobh Pirates. Seán played rugby with Ballincollig.

St Valentine’s Day came and love came too.

“I fell in love with Séan at once,” says Sam who was together with him for eight years. “He was so nice and so funny.”

It worked both ways.

“I remember going to Garryvoe Beach and we chatted all the way down,” says Sam.

“We’d go for spins around the city, have something to eat, and maybe enjoy a game of pool. Our philosophy was to get out and enjoy life.”

Seán asked her a question.

“‘Do you know how old I am?’ he asked. “‘I’m 22’.”

Sam was a bit older, 30.

“‘So what’, I said. ‘Does it bother you?’”

He said ‘No’.

There were no barriers in the way of blossoming romance.

“I met his parents, and they were so welcoming and nice,” says Sam.

She became one of the family.

“His uncle John was a rugby head like me,” says Sam. “The gate was open. I’d found my tribe.”

The fairytale continued.

“After a year and a bit, we moved in together,” says Sam.

Jay completed the couple’s happiness.

Cluain Ard, where the couple lived, was supposed to be a safe haven for the foursome, a place where love grew and where people were cherished. A place that Seán took pride in. Cluian Ard was supposed to be a happy place. Not a place of fear.

Seán loved his home and his boys.

“Nathan loved him,” says Sam. “Seán and Jay were like two peas in a pod. It’s uncanny. It all flowed.

“Seán was a great dad. It was meant to be. Like a fairytale.

“Seán loved doing jobs around the house,” says Sam.

And he had big ambitions.

“He had plans to build a patio in the back garden. He wanted to go back to college and he applied to do a Springboard course.”

Seán had many talents.

He was a great host and a great barman! My friends loved him.

The couple were living happily in their own idyllic world, surrounded by green lawns, colourful autumnal trees and nice neighbours until a group of youths began to threaten their peace of mind and wellbeing. The consequences were drastic. And they were tragic.

“The kids from other estates antagonised us and they antagonised other people,” says Sam.

“They continued to throw eggs, stones, and cans of beans at houses, hurling abuse at people.

“They hung out in bushes along the greenway. One weekend they threw something heavy at the window and three picture frames came off the wall.

We’d call the guards only to be told the call was logged and there was no car available.

Seán had just returned from celebrating his father’s birthday in Clare when there were three or four thuds on the front door. Fed up of relentless attacks on his home, he went to investigate. He never returned.

“I followed Seán out, he was frustrated,” says Sam.

“I told him to come back in. He had run outside in his socks. I waited for him at the corner to come back.”

Without any warning, Seán dropped to the ground. Sam recalls the horror of what subsequently unfolded.

“A couple saw him on the ground and went over to him and put him in the recovery position,” says Sam.

She went into overdrive.

“I rang the garda station. Another lady rang for the ambulance. I rang my mam to get down here.”

The crews of medics did their level best to revive the 29-year-old. But to no avail.

“Sean got the same treatment on the side of the road that he would have done in A&E,” says Sam.

“An A&E consultant was present. Seán couldn’t breathe on his own. The medics tried their hardest. They gave Seán seven shots of adrenaline.

“He was taken into the ambulance and all the machinery was taken off him,” says Sam.

He died in the ambulance. That’s where I said goodbye to him.

Where were her sons?

“Jay was asleep in bed. Nathan was with his grandparents,” says Sam, tears rolling down her cheeks with the memory of the last time she saw Seán.

“It was horrendous,” she says. “It’s still a nightmare.

“Jay still gets nightmares and night terrors. At first, when his father was missing, Jay thought Seán was on night shift which he did when he changed jobs.

“When Jay turned five recently, he asked if he could visit his daddy in heaven to thank him for his presents,” says Sam.

Seán, a family man, was laid out in his grandmother’s house.

“He adored his granny,” says Sam.

Sam and Seán adored each other.

“We’re all heartbroken,” says Sam. “Seán was my best friend.”

He died too soon.

What did Sam do on Seán’s 30th birthday?

“I held a fundraiser for Barnardos, and for the Heart Children charity, for children with heart defects,” says Sam.

The counselling I got from Barnardos really helped me.

People felt for Sam, dealing with her awful grief, and people were good to her.

“The guards were very good to me,” says Sam.

“They were happy to provide me with information and to have meetings with me. Kevin, my liaison officer, has been great. The force is very under-resourced in Cobh,” says Sam.

“There are two gardaí on duty for 15,000 people.”

Sam is campaigning for Seán Feeney’s Law.

“And I think kids who are in trouble should have to deal with the authorities,” she says.

“It should be mandatory that kids who are in trouble engage with rehabilitation services.”

This Christmas, things will be different at her house.

“We used to drop gifts on Christmas Eve, we’d have the fire lighting while we wrapped the presents. We might put on a movie. Jay would be in bed, and we’d have a glass of wine.”

They spread the joy.

“We’d go to granny’s for Christmas dinner and visit again on St Stephen’s Day.”

Everyone remembers Seán, the smiley lad with the curly mop of hair.

“They say a prayer every day for Seán in Jay’s classroom,” says Sam. “His school has been very supportive.”

Sam is often reminded of Seán.

“Everything reminds me of him,” says Sam.

“Even putting the bins out reminds me of him.

“Every time I pass Applegreen garage, I get a pang. I get comfort visiting his grave.”

Sam wanted the fairytale to continue.

“I wanted a small wedding,” she says. “Both our grans are in their 80s. We wanted to have a party.”

Sam wanted to make a statement.

“My boss said I’d probably wear a black wedding dress!”

Sam has seen many black days and she’s summoned up the courage to take action so that Seán didn’t die in vain.

“The community around me are very supportive,” she says.

“The residents’ group set up a WhatsApp for anyone affected by anti-social behaviour to put out an alert.

It’s only now we’re all beginning to realise how bad the situation was. There is power in numbers.

A preliminary post-mortem found that Seán had died of a heart attack.

“I want him back,” says Sam. “We should have grown old together.”