Woman stuck in the muck

Column

EDITOR'S NOTE: This article is part

of a series on the top stories in

Pasco County during 2011 as selected by The Pasco Tribune staff.

Kathleen Ann Shino made it all the way past her 62nd birthday without creating so much as a ripple in America's 24/7 news coverage, and with any sort of luck, she'll gallop to the far end of her earthly days in a similar state.

But there for about a month in the steamy heart of last summer, the unassuming mother of four and grandmother of eight achieved what in some corners could be described as celebrity status. In a nation aching for robust, self-reliant souls, that lavishes quarter-hours of fame on nobodies who audition to eat bugs in remote locales for the fascination of television audiences, Kathleen Ann Shino was a legitimate survivor, her harrowing tale recounted around the globe.

That she had evidently gotten herself into the fix that brought her notoriety is a minor point. Who among us hasn't followed a trail of one sort or another that, except for having avoided the pivotal slippery step, could have led to disaster?

As near as anyone can tell, sometime in the third week of June — relatives reported her missing on June 19, a Sunday — Shino's foot found disastrous footing and she wound up trapped every which way in a swampy lake near her home in Holiday.

When she finally was found — on Tuesday, the third day since she'd gone missing — Shino was up to her chin in muck, hugged tight by sucking mud, home to a slashing mangrove thicket that camouflaged her whereabouts from searchers.

Indeed, her discovery and rescue were the essence of serendipity. Working in their backyard bordering the swamp, Alexia Cuartas and her daughter, Alexandra Echazabal, pricked their ears at Shino's croaks for help, but imagined at first they heard birds or a frog.

When the inhuman rasp formed words — "Please help me; I'm stuck in the mud" — the women quickly punched up 9-1-1. Cuartas thought it was a man. "I can't see him. He's yelling for help." She added a reason to make haste. "I know for a fact there's an alligator there."

Sheriff's deputies scrambled to the scene, finding, at first, nothing encouraging. Veteran Deputy Keith Krapfl said he didn't "hear anything that sounded human." But when he and Deputy Jessica Hammond clawed through the brush for a better look, they spotted a blond head — only a head — above the water in the mangrove forest.

Hammond instantly recognized the imperiled woman as the missing Shino. They waded into waist-deep water, followed by paramedics who used a chain saw to carve out a path to safety. At last Shino emerged, strapped to a stretcher, her neck enclosed in an immobilizing collar.

What was clear, authorities said, is she had been in the water for hours, at least. She was scratched by low-hanging branches; when deputies reached her, they found ants crisscrossing her face. Shino was literally speechless, Krapfl said, wordlessly clutching at her throat as they worked to set her free.

As relief washed over Shino's family, the story that emerged became by turns improbable and miraculous, but remained a 100 percent mystery. Shino, who lives nearby, often strolled the neighborhood. But she couldn't recall having gone down to the lakeside before, and she had no idea why or how she'd come to do so this time.

Things were no clearer nearly a month later when she recounted her ordeal and rescue as a guest on NBC's "Today" show. Perhaps she blacked out on her walk, she said; she knew only of becoming aware that she was in the water and disoriented. The more she struggled, the deeper she sank and the more desperate her situation became.

Eventually, only her head remained above water. "I had to stay awake, especially at night," Shino said. "I never realized how long 24 hours was."

She had heard searchers pass nearby, but was unable to call out to them. Then, summoned just as hope and resolve were ebbing away, there were the deputies at her side. And here she was in July, quipping about overrated mud baths to a national audience, a survivor's survivor.

In the summer of 2011, Kathleen Ann Shino gave us an unsolved mystery story with a thoroughly uplifting finish. If her celebrity fades, her lesson of determination does not. Something to comfort us in the tumultuous new year ahead.