Burglar’s plea for sympathy falls way flat

There’s nothing like a sentencing to bring out the best in a felon. The prospect of spending years in a cage can make even a hardened guy contrite, polite and teary-eyed.

And so it was Thursday for Sean Austin McCormack.

The 36-year-old habitual offender was mouse meek as he stood in Spokane County Superior Court and pleaded guilty for crimes he committed one Sunday morning last October.

It was Oct. 16, to be exact.

The date is branded into my memory since it was my home this thief violated.

I was upstairs asleep. My lovely wife, Sherry, was in the basement folding clothes.

An occupied home will stop most burglars. Not McCormack.

He came through our unlocked front door. He took credit cards and cash out of Sherry’s purse. He took my late father’s vintage shotgun from a nook in the living room.

Sherry heard floorboards creaking above her. She assumed the footsteps were mine.

The decision to fold a final stack of towels spared her from a frightening confrontation. By the time she came up McCormack was gone.

Fortunately for society he didn’t wander far.

While filling the coffeepot Sherry looked outside a kitchen window. There in the driveway stood a scruffy stranger with a shotgun.

After that the minutes flew by.

Police responded quickly to our 911 call. They stopped McCormack at gunpoint as he was walking not far from our residence. He told officers he bought the weapon and credit cards “from a kid up the street for five bucks.”

Sean McCormack will never be a Mensa member.

This isn’t the first time McCormack’s name has appeared in one of my columns. Two years prior to the burglary, I wrote about him being nabbed for repeatedly stealing toilet paper and towels out of Davenport Hotel restrooms.

Because of this, I spent some anxious days wondering if the TP Bandit’s visit wasn’t random.

Then McCormack wrote me from jail. He wanted to apologize and assure me “what happened at your house” was coincidence.

What happened at your house? That’s some way to dismiss a burglary.

Perhaps it was coincidence. But McCormack’s real motive for writing was revealed in another line: “I hope that a favorable word from you to the prosecutor might help in plea negotiations.”

In Judge Ellen Kalama Clark’s courtroom McCormack pleaded guilty to residential burglary and unlawful possession of a firearm. He hoped to be given a sentencing alternative. That would slash his prison time and let him spend most of his sentence in an outside treatment program.

Trouble is, McCormack has been through a treatment program.

It didn’t work.

Over the years I’ve interviewed scores of crime victims. I always tried to be empathetic as they told me how their lives had been affected. Yet as Sherry and I discovered on that October morning, no amount of empathy can prepare you for the feelings of dread that come when it’s your turn to be a victim.

I’ve had nervous nights of bad sleep. I often peer out windows to see if someone is lurking in my yard. I check and recheck the doors to make sure they are locked.

Sean McCormack has had five adult felony convictions. He’s had enough breaks.

The judge agreed. She gave McCormack 70 months for the burglary. He also got 43 months for the gun charge, with that time running concurrently.

The way our smoke-and-mirrors system works, however, McCormack will only serve half the 70 months. And based on his history, prison probably won’t make him a better human being.

That’s his problem. I’m just glad that he won’t be prowling around inside anyone’s home for the next three years.