Obituary: Shawn Hill, 1953-2025

Shawn Greywood Hill, 71, died in Bennington, Vt., in MissionCare nursing home after an extended decline in health. Shawn was preceded in death by his parents, Grace Louise Anthony and Delmer James Hill.

Shawn was born in Burlington, Vt., at Mary Fletcher Hospital, the first son of Grace Louise Anthony and Delmer James Hill. Born prematurely, he stopped breathing while still in the hospital, leading to an anoxic brain injury and lifelong disabilities, including deafness.

His mother described Shawn as a very happy infant and toddler, but this changed when he began preschool, where he quickly understood that other children were able to speak and hear, while he could not. He learned that he was in some ways a Stranger in a Strange Land, different in ability and disability from the people around him, and it took him many years to achieve some peace with this. In an era of limited knowledge, funding and services, his parents spent substantial time and money during his early years pursuing assessments and answers on how to support Shawn — to little effect and to their lifelong sorrow.

Shawn lived at home until near adolescence, when he moved to the first of several institutions in Michigan. In these institutions Shawn experienced and survived complex trauma, including significant physical and emotional abuse. In 1993, Shawn returned to Vermont, where he was supported by Howard Center and Champlain Community Services. He lived for over 20 years with the Clarke family, who successfully supported Shawn in his transition from the institutional world to the Vermont community. Our thanks to the Clarkes for being another family to Shawn in these years.

During his more recent time at Pennington House, Howard Center staff committed to supporting Shawn in facilitated communication. For the first time in his life, at age 65, Shawn’s communication with the world moved beyond gestures and simple vocalizations to reading and writing words through both a keyboard and whiteboards. It does not seem possible to overstate the positive effect of this more sophisticated communication on Shawn and his relationship with the world, including the people in it. While we are saddened that our parents never knew that Shawn could communicate using written words, knowing their persistent belief that Shawn had more cognitive ability than numerous assessments and professionals had suggested, this was also an uplifting confirmation of their belief.

In July 2025, as his health deteriorated, Shawn moved to MissionCare nursing facility in Bennington. In one of his last communications with staff there, when asked what he wanted staff to know about him, he responded, “Tell them I’m smart,” a glimpse into his life and his character.

Shawn liked ice cream, ice cream sundaes, “pop,” coffee, doughnuts, watching people cook, visiting family, cooking shows, “F Troop,” “Hogan’s Heroes,” ice cream, Thanksgiving, watching community events, women and ice cream. He did not like living in an institution, being dropped off at an institution, waiting for a ride, physical exertion or raw carrots. People have told us that they appreciated his sense of humor, his gentleness and looking people in the eye. Some people did not believe that he was deaf (despite tests that definitively found no auditory response) because of his attention to and understanding of other people.

Shawn is survived by his brother Bard and family (of Richmond, Vt.); brother Scot and family; stepmother, Pat; sister Della and family; sister Laura and family; sister Rachael and family; and extended family members across the United States. Shawn’s life and spirit will be recognized in family events at our father’s grave in South Hero, Vt., as well as at our mother’s grave in North Adams, Mass. Their lifelong love for him, and his lifelong love for them, was profound and abiding.

In lieu of flowers, please embrace a family member, and consider making some positive impact on the life of a person with a disability.

So if you’re walkin’ down the street sometime

And spot some hollow, ancient eyes

Please don’t just pass ’em by and stare

As if you didn’t care.

Say, “Hello in there, hello.”

— from “Hello in There” by John Prine

This article appears in The Winter Preview Issue 2025.