For many Bay Area residents, the name Shawn Jones is one that rings a bell. He was the 10-year old Richmond boy who was nearly mauled to death by three pit bulls while riding his bike near Peres Elementary School in June 2001. The shocking details of the story made national headlines.
Jones lost both ears and was airlifted to a hospital where doctors had to clean fur out of his wounds. Staples and stitches were not strong enough to repair his torn skin, so he spent two years receiving skin grafts and undergoing other surgeries.
For years, people would approach Jones, recognizing him by the scars on his face and body. He was given quilts and cards from children all over the country. A trust was even set up to help him and his family. As the years passed, the attention faded, at times much to his relief.
Now, however, Jones is being recognized for something entirely different — his disability advocacy in the workplace — and that is what he wants people to remember him for.
Jones, who now lives in San Leandro, returned to the attack site recently for the first time, to be photographed by Richmondside. He felt a myriad of emotions as he walked along the rear of the Peres campus in Richmond’s Iron Triangle neighborhood.
“I feel 24 years lighter,” Jones told Richmondside. “I also feel sad for that 10 year old little boy who didn’t know that life was about to change for him in such a crazy, horrible, terrible and amazing way.”
Jones shared his serendipitous path from struggling with depression to now thriving because of his experiences. He currently supervises a number of mailrooms across California that employ people with disabilities through the nonprofit Pacific Coast Community Services. Jones recently won the 2025 Evelyne Villines Award from SourceAmerica, which honors individuals with disabilities who achieve remarkable workplace success. It said that “he’s a role model and mentor to many and is a shining example of the power of optimism and determination.”
“It was absolutely incredible … I felt like I was holding hands with like, 100 people (who helped me, starting) with my mom and dad,” Jones said about the award. “I felt that moment because I just always remember where I was and you can’t forget that. I was a depressed kid, I was a drinker, I did not like life, and now I get to be celebrated for an accomplishment.”
The dog attack — 15 minutes that triggered years of physical, emotional struggles
Jones said he remembers some of the attack, which lasted 15 minutes. He said it felt like hours and all that ran through his mind was his father’s advice to protect his neck. By the end of it, he remembers his mother’s screams and feeling cold because the dogs had ripped his clothes off. He also remembers being airlifted out of Richmond at night and feeling on top of the world in the helicopter.
Jones’ time in elementary school was cut short because of his medical treatments. He returned to school full time at Glenbrook Middle School in Concord, where he said the bullying was ruthless. His scars were healing, but he kept wearing gauze to protect himself from the glares and comments.
“For months, the doctors would say, ‘Take them off, like, you’re good to go.’ I will walk out of the hospital just fine and when I go home, ‘bam’ (I’d put them back on),” Jones said.
He said he wasn’t an easy child to take care of. His parents sent him to live with his aunt and as a protest, he said, he would run away and get into trouble.
His aunt, out of options, decided she alone could not raise Jones. She told him to pack his bags for New York because he was going to be sized for prosthetic ears, but when he arrived in Syracuse, he was greeted by two men in a military van who calmly told him he was going to attend the Academy of Ivory Ridge.
Jones attended the military school for about a year and a half. He came back to the East Bay to complete his sophomore year of high school at Mount Diablo in Concord, living in his parents’ house.
Jones said he tried to combat his depression and angst through sports. He joined wrestling, track and field and football. But it still didn’t fill the void, so he found solace in a drink, or two, or a few.
“I would do it all, and I wasn’t even that good at (those sports) but it didn’t matter. Being a part of something and trying to just smile and trying to hope,” Jones said. “At a certain point I felt like I was like a sociopath, I swear, because I didn’t feel, I didn’t want to feel because feeling means reality.”
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“I can see it. I can hear them barking, the aggressiveness, the fact that they (the dogs) were trying to take my life.”
— Shawn Jones, on being attacked by a pack of dogs at age 10 in Richmond
He said in his junior year of high school, he met his friends “Jack and Daniel.”
“Drinking made it a little bit better,” Jones said. “I’m telling you, I used to, like, cover my mirror (with a sheet). I had like one of those sliding mirrors. So imagine that.”
Jones graduated from high school with a 3.0 GPA but was unsure what he wanted to do with his life. He wrestled at Chabot Community College for a little and signed up for an EMT program at Los Medanos Community College, eventually moving at age 20 to San Leandro where he mostly worked as a security guard.
Still drinking, he said he found it hard to motivate himself to do anything more. And because of the dog attack trust, he had enough money to pay his rent. Jones said he lived in a modest one-bedroom apartment — the same place he lives now — because he likes having the consistency that he didn’t have as a child.
“I just wanted to stay home and do nothing. I wanted to feel sorry for myself and everything, so I did that for years,” Jones said. “But what changed my life — I became a foster parent seven years ago.”
Taking care of a child who needed him motivated Jones to reset his life
He adopted his neighbor’s son, who he calls Junior, after the boy’s father was evicted from the apartment next door. Jones said he met Junior when he was just 6 years old, and by the age of 10, Junior would come over to Jones’ house just to spend time with him.
“We used to watch that TV show ‘Beyond Scared Straight.’ It was two episodes of that, then homework, and then play the game,” Jones said. “And then I sent him home.”
When Junior turned 12, his family was evicted and living on the streets.
“He was on the streets, and it was like in and out, and I just could not be OK with that. And this kid was resilient. He would come to see me all the time, like all the time. I’ll get home from work, he’s there, and then I’ll put him on a bus in the morning. When I got back, he was there,” Jones said. “He loved me so much, and I loved him, and I always had his back. So when I found out they were living in the garage, I went and got him.”
Jones said that was what kick-started his life on the right track. He sobered up and went back to classes at College of Alameda, where he was introduced to Chris Flynn, the owner of Pacific Coast Community Services, where Jones has worked for the past eight years.
“I had to wait almost 18 months in order to get this job,” Jones said. “It was crazy, but you really appreciate things when you have to wait for things.”
Jones said he just knew the job would be worth the wait. He started as a mail clerk and eventually was promoted to supervisor in four years. Now, he supervises eight IRS mailrooms in and around the Bay Area and manages 18 employees who have various disabilities.
What attracted Jones to the company, however, was not the fact that it employs people with disabilities. It was the realization that every disabled person has their own individual struggle and it was his job to discover how to best support them.
“Every day they wake up with their own struggles, their own scars that they deal with too,” Jones said. “But man, It was so hard at first just talking to certain people and just kind of feeling them out. Each person is different, and I have a different relationship with every single one of them, because they all need it.”
He said he would regularly meet with his employees, in part to make sure they had the resources they needed to do this job. For example, Jones was able to secure a specialized magnifying glass for a mail clerk who is visually impaired, so that he could sort the mail faster and more accurately.
Jones’ supervisor, Adrion Bryant, said he deserves the recognition because he’s sincere about improving himself and his team. When asked how he would describe Jones, Bryant said he is “resilient and caring.”
“Shawn’s definitely a very hard worker, definitely very team oriented, kind of brings the family mentality to work with his employees,” Bryant said. “He definitely empathizes with the staff and tries to meet them halfway when they’re going through something. You know, we always preach that we focus on the mission (to empower those with disabilities), but he always makes it a point to connect with them at the personal level.”
Visiting attack site brings closure 24 years later
Jones has used his story to inspire others through motivational speaking at local schools, nonprofits and events. He spoke at a 2024 Grassroots Conference in Washington, D.C., where he lobbied Congress to fund more opportunities for disabled constituents. While he doesn’t know what his next steps are, Jones said he knows he wants to continue advocating for this community.
While walking around Peres in Richmond, Jones shared that he is proud of the man he has become, though he regrets the years he tried to run away from the trauma he endured. However, facing it head-on has been empowering and liberating, he said.
“(Coming back to Peres) it gives me that closure moment and feeling, like a relationship,” Jones said. “I never wanted to think about it, so I suppressed it … but clearly this was something I needed to do.”
He said his old elementary school looks the same, just cleaner and with some new improvements, such as the gates in front of the campus and outdoor classrooms. But the fence he used to climb over to play basketball with his friends — the same fence where the attack happened — hasn’t changed.
“I can see it. I can hear them barking, the aggressiveness, the fact that they (the dogs) were trying to take my life,” Jones said, looking around the alley where it happened.
Jones also shared some positive memories he had there, like taking enough licorice from his teacher to give to his friends or playing on the playground.
“I used to be upset (when people would ask) ‘Are you that little boy?’ Well, I am that little boy … (but) … that was 24 years ago,” Jones said. “But the Evelyn Award that I won, I can remember for that — working hard, advocating for people with disabilities, giving a voice to the voiceless. I like that. That’s the legacy.”
What an amazing person and awesome story! I believe I remember this family living on Ripley Ave many years ago as I was a mail carrier in the area.
I remember this very clearly. 15 years later I met the dogs owner at Point Isabel. He identified himself and was very arrogant. very much the victim of the situation. It made me sick to my stomach. I am thankful they do not allow him to ever have another dog. He was absolutely delusional. and perhaps narcissistic. I think this is perhaps one of the best articles Richmond. side has put out. Thank you. Great job. What a great man What a truly great man.
I remember this story, but feel bad I never learned more about what happened to that boy. So glad to hear he’s doing well and inspiring others.