Joint Domestic Violence Roundtable
Essex District Attorney Jonathan W. Blodgett held a Joint Domestic Violence Roundtable on Tuesday, April 29th at Peabody City Hall. Included in the audience were law enforcement professionals, social service providers, and of course the entire Brodie Family, In recognition of Massachusetts Victims' Rights Month, Dawn was invited to be the Key Note Speaker and gave an outstanding 30 minute speech, included below.
Dawn's Speech
It’s not easy to speak about a loved one who has died. It’s even more difficult to speak about that loved one, who is my sister, who was murdered at the age of fifteen. Unfortunately, I only have a few memories to share. Her death was so painful and I was in such complete denial, that I blocked out much of that time in my life. It’s the only way I could cope.
There were four of us siblings growing up together in Groveland. My brother, Sean, is seven years older than me. Beth and I were twenty months apart and Kellie is seven years younger than me. Beth and I were very close and did everything together. We played in the yard, learned how to ride our bikes, roller-skated, climbed trees, played flashlight tag and kick-the-bucket with kids in our neighborhood. Friends were always at our house. It was the place to be, and we loved being home. I was looking through family pictures recently for a slide show we were doing at our Vigil for Beth. There were not many pictures of her alone. It was always the two of us.
Summer was our favorite time of the year. We would spend all day by the pool playing cards and listening to oldies on the radio with mom and Kellie. We truly enjoyed spending our time together, the four of us. We made videos of our singing and dance routines with friends. We put on plays for our neighbors in our front yard. We would spend a week in North Conway at the Chalet across from Cathedral Ledge with family. We went to Storyland and Diana’s Bath to swim. We went to Hampton Beach to jump the waves and build sand castles. Beth and I were best friends and confided everything in each other. I’ve been told that Beth looked up to me, which seems silly, as I am just an ordinary person.
I remember the week before Beth left for a week-long school trip, and we were playing in the woods behind our house. I was falling off some branches and I grabbed onto one that moved and hit Beth in the face. Her nose was bleeding and I cried more than she did.
I remember the week before Beth left for a week-long school trip, and we were playing in the woods behind our house. I was falling off some branches and I grabbed onto one that moved and hit Beth in the face. Her nose was bleeding and I cried more than she did.
Beth at Practice
In the summer of 1992, I was going into my Junior year and Beth into her Sophomore year. We made it on the cheering squad together that season. Cheering was a big part of my life and I was excited we could share the experience together. We cheered every day after school and weekends. We were always at someone’s house from the squad for a sleep over or spaghetti dinner. One afternoon during practice, Beth fell from a lift and hurt her elbow. Again, I cried more than she did. I could not handle seeing her hurt.
In school, Beth was a very book-smart person. We were only one grade apart from each other, and she would help me with my homework if I was struggling. She always had good grades and knew at a young age she wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to help people. And so her plan was to go to law school. But she would never get the chance.
In school, Beth was a very book-smart person. We were only one grade apart from each other, and she would help me with my homework if I was struggling. She always had good grades and knew at a young age she wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to help people. And so her plan was to go to law school. But she would never get the chance.
Sean, Kellie, Dawn
Beth never had the opportunity to be asked to the prom. She never had the opportunity to graduate from high school, apply to college or have her heart broken. Beth never had the opportunity to get married or have children. This was all taken away from Beth, taken away from us. She has never met her three amazing, handsome nephews and the one on the way. She didn’t have the opportunity to be my Maid of Honor on my wedding day. Beth, Kellie and I had it all planned out. Beth would be mine, Kellie would be Beth’s and I would be Kellie’s. We all would have a chance.
Beth turned 15 just 38 days before she was taken from us. Beth was full of life. She was always smiling and happy. She had many friends, and yes, this is common to hear after someone dies, but for her, it is the truth. She truly was a genuine person with a big, kind heart.
Beth turned 15 just 38 days before she was taken from us. Beth was full of life. She was always smiling and happy. She had many friends, and yes, this is common to hear after someone dies, but for her, it is the truth. She truly was a genuine person with a big, kind heart.
November 18, 1992 was last time I saw Beth alive. I was outside our house and she was walking down the driveway to a neighbor’s house. I didn’t even ask her where she was going because I knew she would be back. Yet, less than an hour later, I was sitting at the kitchen table when our neighbor came crashing through the back door yelling “Come quick! Something has happened to Beth!” I ran like I had never run before or since. I was the first one to arrive at the neighbor’s house ahead of my parents. I ran upstairs and saw my beautiful sister, my best friend on the floor after her killer had gone. This is an image I will live with for the rest of my life. I screamed and then immediately ran out of the room as my Dad ran in. My Dad yelled to my Mother to stay downstairs. Kellie stayed behind at home she was only 9 years old at the time. I ran home as fast as I could.
After I arrived home, friends were calling and asking for Beth. The news had spread quickly and no one could believe it to be true. When my brother, Sean, arrived with his wife, Stephanie, I remember seeing her out the window and hearing her scream and cry no. I kept telling myself, “Beth’s okay. She will have to go to the hospital, but she’ll be home soon.” I told myself that for over a year, but of course it wasn’t true.
Beth’s killer was a classmate of mine. He no longer attended the same school Beth and I did. He had moved a few months before. They had gone on a few dates over the summer. He wanted to be Beth’s boyfriend and she was not interested. Beth was a very trusting person, but she was also a good judge of character. Instead of accepting the fact that she wanted to remain just friends, he pre-meditated her murder. He brought an aluminum baseball bat to our neighbor’s home, convinced the neighbor to bring Beth to him, threatened to kill her and asked “Are you scared yet”, and just before striking her, he said ”I always wanted to be a baseball player”. He hit her with such force, that he killed her in two strikes. There was no intention of just leaving her hurt.
He did this all in front of our neighbor, and when her killer was done, he drove to a field to attempt suicide by taking pills and wine. He decided he would rather face what he did and "rot in jail" for the rest of his life. Those were his words. He went to my high school, covered in blood, and told a staff member to “get me an ambulance, I need my stomach pumped I swallowed some pills”. He did not say what he did to Beth, but he did say that “it was too late” to help her.
While he was hospitalized to have his stomach pumped, he asked the nurse on duty “Am I going to die”? He then said over and over again “I don’t want to die, don’t let me die”. The nurse then asked him why he took the pills and his response was “you know that old homicide suicide thing”. He was only concerned about his own well being. He was overheard saying the next day to his family that “I have completed one of my missions”, and “I have been thinking about it for months”.
Just suppose he had scared her enough to being his girlfriend. Imagine the control he would have exerted over her. The violence she would have experienced throughout the relationship. Imagine the relationships he’d have after hers. What kind of domestic violence would he inflict on other women? Their children? His children? Just imagine the terror he would have instilled in people’s lives if Beth had been scared enough to say “yes, I’ll go out with you.”
My life changed forever that day. At 16 years old I felt it my responsibility to be strong for my parents, my family and friends. My parents were a mess and who could blame them. We were all consumed by grief. I had a nine-year-old sister at home who needed guidance. I took on a protective role of her. I felt responsible for her. I wanted to take care of her. It was something I could no longer do for Beth.
The media was in our home, on our front lawn, and crowding our street. Every news station, every newspaper wanted to hear our story. We were a private family and it was uncomfortable to have a camera in our face every day when we were experiencing so much pain. We wanted to grieve alone, until we realized that everything written was about him and not Beth. She needed to be remembered not him. Her story needed to be told.
After I arrived home, friends were calling and asking for Beth. The news had spread quickly and no one could believe it to be true. When my brother, Sean, arrived with his wife, Stephanie, I remember seeing her out the window and hearing her scream and cry no. I kept telling myself, “Beth’s okay. She will have to go to the hospital, but she’ll be home soon.” I told myself that for over a year, but of course it wasn’t true.
Beth’s killer was a classmate of mine. He no longer attended the same school Beth and I did. He had moved a few months before. They had gone on a few dates over the summer. He wanted to be Beth’s boyfriend and she was not interested. Beth was a very trusting person, but she was also a good judge of character. Instead of accepting the fact that she wanted to remain just friends, he pre-meditated her murder. He brought an aluminum baseball bat to our neighbor’s home, convinced the neighbor to bring Beth to him, threatened to kill her and asked “Are you scared yet”, and just before striking her, he said ”I always wanted to be a baseball player”. He hit her with such force, that he killed her in two strikes. There was no intention of just leaving her hurt.
He did this all in front of our neighbor, and when her killer was done, he drove to a field to attempt suicide by taking pills and wine. He decided he would rather face what he did and "rot in jail" for the rest of his life. Those were his words. He went to my high school, covered in blood, and told a staff member to “get me an ambulance, I need my stomach pumped I swallowed some pills”. He did not say what he did to Beth, but he did say that “it was too late” to help her.
While he was hospitalized to have his stomach pumped, he asked the nurse on duty “Am I going to die”? He then said over and over again “I don’t want to die, don’t let me die”. The nurse then asked him why he took the pills and his response was “you know that old homicide suicide thing”. He was only concerned about his own well being. He was overheard saying the next day to his family that “I have completed one of my missions”, and “I have been thinking about it for months”.
Just suppose he had scared her enough to being his girlfriend. Imagine the control he would have exerted over her. The violence she would have experienced throughout the relationship. Imagine the relationships he’d have after hers. What kind of domestic violence would he inflict on other women? Their children? His children? Just imagine the terror he would have instilled in people’s lives if Beth had been scared enough to say “yes, I’ll go out with you.”
My life changed forever that day. At 16 years old I felt it my responsibility to be strong for my parents, my family and friends. My parents were a mess and who could blame them. We were all consumed by grief. I had a nine-year-old sister at home who needed guidance. I took on a protective role of her. I felt responsible for her. I wanted to take care of her. It was something I could no longer do for Beth.
The media was in our home, on our front lawn, and crowding our street. Every news station, every newspaper wanted to hear our story. We were a private family and it was uncomfortable to have a camera in our face every day when we were experiencing so much pain. We wanted to grieve alone, until we realized that everything written was about him and not Beth. She needed to be remembered not him. Her story needed to be told.
Photo of Beth Used at Wake
I never truly grieved. There was no time. Instead, I was consoling people at Beth’s wake, telling friends it would be okay. The line at the wake was long; friends and family stood outside in the November cold evening for 2 ½ hours.
It was a closed casket with just a picture of Beth on top.
I wish that was how I could remember her, smiling, happy and innocent.
Instead, I only see what I saw on the floor that night. That is the only thing I remember from the wake. I am reminded by friends of Kellie’s reaction that night. She was screaming and crying she wanted to see Beth, not fully understanding what was going on.
It was a closed casket with just a picture of Beth on top.
I wish that was how I could remember her, smiling, happy and innocent.
Instead, I only see what I saw on the floor that night. That is the only thing I remember from the wake. I am reminded by friends of Kellie’s reaction that night. She was screaming and crying she wanted to see Beth, not fully understanding what was going on.
It was estimated that 600 people attended the church service the morning of the funeral. There were more than 150 cars in line to the cemetery. It was another cold, November day. People huddled together all over the cemetery hill. There were so many people there that the service was ending and people were still walking up the hill. The school band was there and played the Sweetest Thing by Juice Newton. Some of the band members were Beth’s friends and performed the song through their tears. I remember standing on that hill still convinced Beth was coming home.
The summer after we lost Beth, I would bring flowers and sit by her grave for hours at a time talking to her. I would tell her about every little detail in our lives. I would laugh, cry or just sit quietly. Thinking about what would be different. What if I had gone with her to the neighbor’s that night? Would I have been able to protect her or keep her safe? Was she alive when I arrived in the room that night? Did she hear me come in? Did she hear me scream? Questions to which I will never have the answers.
The neighbor’s house where Beth died is at the end of my parent’s street. You have to drive by it to get in and out of the neighborhood.
Every day.
Every time.
For the first few years it was hard to drive by. I never actually looked at the house. Reminded of what happened in there, my eyes tear up as I go by.
The transfer hearing was in June of 1993. Because Beth’s killer was the age of sixteen at the time of her murder, there was a hearing to decide if he would be charged as an adult or a juvenile. It was decided he would be tried as an adult for first degree murder. The Judge ruled that he posed “a significant danger to the public” and he was “not amendable to rehabilitation”. This was a small victory, if you can call it that.
The trial began March 28, 1994. I went to the trial every day and relived every horrifying detail of what happened the day Beth died. We had to sit in the same room with her killer day after day. I watched him sit there and show no remorse. There were no tears shed. We listened to testimony from the witness, classmates, teachers, and coaches. I would glance over at him to see what reaction he had to pictures and testimony and there was nothing. The pain and sadness in my parents’ eyes was heart-wrenching. Beth was lost through this process. It was all about her killer and the events leading up to her death.
The neighbor’s house where Beth died is at the end of my parent’s street. You have to drive by it to get in and out of the neighborhood.
Every day.
Every time.
For the first few years it was hard to drive by. I never actually looked at the house. Reminded of what happened in there, my eyes tear up as I go by.
The transfer hearing was in June of 1993. Because Beth’s killer was the age of sixteen at the time of her murder, there was a hearing to decide if he would be charged as an adult or a juvenile. It was decided he would be tried as an adult for first degree murder. The Judge ruled that he posed “a significant danger to the public” and he was “not amendable to rehabilitation”. This was a small victory, if you can call it that.
The trial began March 28, 1994. I went to the trial every day and relived every horrifying detail of what happened the day Beth died. We had to sit in the same room with her killer day after day. I watched him sit there and show no remorse. There were no tears shed. We listened to testimony from the witness, classmates, teachers, and coaches. I would glance over at him to see what reaction he had to pictures and testimony and there was nothing. The pain and sadness in my parents’ eyes was heart-wrenching. Beth was lost through this process. It was all about her killer and the events leading up to her death.
Mr. and Mrs. Brodie with Kellie, age 10, at trial
My Father had to testify about that night. It’s awful to see your parents cry. We listened to how my Dad tried to breathe life back into his daughter praying for help to arrive. We listened to how he sat there with her, feeling for her pulse,how it was getting weaker and weaker and then it was gone. No parent should ever lose a child, and absolutely no one should ever have to experience what he did. Throughout the trial my Mom kept pictures of Beth in her pocket. That’s how Beth needed to be remembered, not through autopsy reports, witness accounts, or forensic photographs.
The verdict came in on April 4, 1994: Guilty of First Degree Murder, Life in Prison with No Chance of Parole. The verdict did not bring Beth back to us, but it made me feel a little safer knowing he was going to spend the rest of his undeserved life in jail where he belonged. I remember just one sentence of my Dad’s impact statement. It was in the papers and all over the news. He said “poor Rich, he had a bad day and Beth had to pay for it”. I can still see my Dad up at the stand reading those words through tears to the courtroom, hearing the anger and sadness in his voice.
The verdict came in on April 4, 1994: Guilty of First Degree Murder, Life in Prison with No Chance of Parole. The verdict did not bring Beth back to us, but it made me feel a little safer knowing he was going to spend the rest of his undeserved life in jail where he belonged. I remember just one sentence of my Dad’s impact statement. It was in the papers and all over the news. He said “poor Rich, he had a bad day and Beth had to pay for it”. I can still see my Dad up at the stand reading those words through tears to the courtroom, hearing the anger and sadness in his voice.
The trial took place during my Senior year of high school. It was 18 months later and still too painful to listen. I should have been enjoying prom dress shopping and filling out college applications. But instead I was sad and in denial. Every day I was pretending to be happy and okay.
But I was not happy or okay, I was a mess inside.
There was a piece missing. I spent many hours in the guidance counselor’s office. There were days I could not sit through class without getting emotional. There would be a word or a phrase I would hear and I’d want to cry. I didn’t want anyone to see me upset so I would leave class. I had a hard time focusing.
To keep Beth’s memory alive, my parents started the Beth Brodie Memorial Butterfly Run and Walk in 1994. My family received many sympathy cards and five had the same butterfly poem. Butterflies and Beth went hand and hand after that. At that first race, a butterfly landed on my Mother’s finger and stayed there for several minutes. What an emotional moment that was for all of us. Hundreds of people came from all over to participate and support us. We raised over $150,000 in the 7 years the race ran. The money raised was given out in scholarships to a deserving senior from our high school for over 20 years. Last year was the final scholarship award. It was amazing to see our community come out and support my family.
As a family we rarely talked about Beth. We could never get out any words just tears. My husband Scott and I have been together for 19 years and I never talk to him about Beth. I asked Scott to read the beginning stages of my speech. When he was done reading he said to me, “all these years and I never knew you were the first one in the room.”. It has always been too painful to talk about.
As a mother, I am reliving some of those fears I had at sixteen. My anxieties are spilling over. My children are always in my sight and I try to keep them in a bubble. I am always worried something bad is going to happen to them. I worry about how I will be able to keep my children safe. I know every mother feels this way, but my anxieties impress these fear within me far greater than they should. I’ve learned first- hand that bad things happen to good people.
In June of 2012 the Supreme Court ruled that offenders under the age of 18 cannot receive a MANDATORY life sentence without chance of parole. It does not forbid judges, however, from sentencing to life without parole if mitigating factors are considered. Many states are now going through re-sentencing of these offenders. Massachusetts, however, took the ruling to an entirely other level. On Christmas Eve last year, the Massachusetts SJC stated that all juveniles convicted of first degree murder, who have served 15 or more years in prison, would be allowed a parole hearing effective immediately and retroactively.
My sister’s killer is getting a parole hearing. You can’t be serious. This can’t be happening. This news is devastating. We lost Beth all over again that day. It still makes me nauseas, thinking about that moment. Beth’s killer is going to get a parole hearing. Something we never had to worry about happening.
The Supreme Court has forced states to take into consideration to consider mitigating factors in a case, such as a juvenile’s living environments and maturity that previously may not have been allowed. Well guess what? My sister’s killer DID get that opportunity. My sister’s killer had a transfer hearing in 1993 to determine if he should be tried as an adult. Within that hearing, all those factors were considered. He couldn’t have been transferred otherwise.
Now the Massachusetts SJC is stripping the Courts and judges of their ability to look at cases for their facts. Some will argue that Yes, a MANDATORY life sentence may not have been okay, but a MANDATORY chance at parole after 15 years isn’t either. The Massachusetts SJC turned a blind eye to the fact that every situation is different.
Passing a blanket law suggesting every sixteen year old should be treated as a minor is unacceptable. Now my family will sit in a room with Beth’s killer again. We will listen to why he thinks he should get a second chance outside of prison. My sister does not get a second chance.
She never had a first chance at many things.
Last week we received correspondence from the office of Michigan’s Attorney General Bill Shuette. I would like to read to you a portion of it:
“Attorney General Bill Schuette made the following statements when testifying before the Michigan House Criminal Justice Committee last August: “The reason we are talking about life sentences is because there has been a killing – not an accident, or a spur of the moment mistake, but murder in the first degree,” Schuette testified. “And while the juvenile is sentenced to life in prison, the victim is sentenced to death - forever. The victim’s family then grapples with the aftermath of post-traumatic stress, depression, unyielding grief, and visits to a grave. The integrity of our justice system demands crime victims and their families come first.”
The good news is that the Michigan Court of Appeals held that Miller is not to be applied retroactively. The Michigan Supreme Court is now considering the issue, and I argued strongly that Miller should only apply going forward. Additionally, Michigan has new law that specifies that juvenile murderers can still get life without parole, with the required alternative sentence being from 25-40 years as a minimum, and 60 or more years as a maximum. If the courts hold that Miller is to be applied retroactively, this sentencing scheme would apply.”
But I was not happy or okay, I was a mess inside.
There was a piece missing. I spent many hours in the guidance counselor’s office. There were days I could not sit through class without getting emotional. There would be a word or a phrase I would hear and I’d want to cry. I didn’t want anyone to see me upset so I would leave class. I had a hard time focusing.
To keep Beth’s memory alive, my parents started the Beth Brodie Memorial Butterfly Run and Walk in 1994. My family received many sympathy cards and five had the same butterfly poem. Butterflies and Beth went hand and hand after that. At that first race, a butterfly landed on my Mother’s finger and stayed there for several minutes. What an emotional moment that was for all of us. Hundreds of people came from all over to participate and support us. We raised over $150,000 in the 7 years the race ran. The money raised was given out in scholarships to a deserving senior from our high school for over 20 years. Last year was the final scholarship award. It was amazing to see our community come out and support my family.
As a family we rarely talked about Beth. We could never get out any words just tears. My husband Scott and I have been together for 19 years and I never talk to him about Beth. I asked Scott to read the beginning stages of my speech. When he was done reading he said to me, “all these years and I never knew you were the first one in the room.”. It has always been too painful to talk about.
As a mother, I am reliving some of those fears I had at sixteen. My anxieties are spilling over. My children are always in my sight and I try to keep them in a bubble. I am always worried something bad is going to happen to them. I worry about how I will be able to keep my children safe. I know every mother feels this way, but my anxieties impress these fear within me far greater than they should. I’ve learned first- hand that bad things happen to good people.
In June of 2012 the Supreme Court ruled that offenders under the age of 18 cannot receive a MANDATORY life sentence without chance of parole. It does not forbid judges, however, from sentencing to life without parole if mitigating factors are considered. Many states are now going through re-sentencing of these offenders. Massachusetts, however, took the ruling to an entirely other level. On Christmas Eve last year, the Massachusetts SJC stated that all juveniles convicted of first degree murder, who have served 15 or more years in prison, would be allowed a parole hearing effective immediately and retroactively.
My sister’s killer is getting a parole hearing. You can’t be serious. This can’t be happening. This news is devastating. We lost Beth all over again that day. It still makes me nauseas, thinking about that moment. Beth’s killer is going to get a parole hearing. Something we never had to worry about happening.
The Supreme Court has forced states to take into consideration to consider mitigating factors in a case, such as a juvenile’s living environments and maturity that previously may not have been allowed. Well guess what? My sister’s killer DID get that opportunity. My sister’s killer had a transfer hearing in 1993 to determine if he should be tried as an adult. Within that hearing, all those factors were considered. He couldn’t have been transferred otherwise.
Now the Massachusetts SJC is stripping the Courts and judges of their ability to look at cases for their facts. Some will argue that Yes, a MANDATORY life sentence may not have been okay, but a MANDATORY chance at parole after 15 years isn’t either. The Massachusetts SJC turned a blind eye to the fact that every situation is different.
Passing a blanket law suggesting every sixteen year old should be treated as a minor is unacceptable. Now my family will sit in a room with Beth’s killer again. We will listen to why he thinks he should get a second chance outside of prison. My sister does not get a second chance.
She never had a first chance at many things.
Last week we received correspondence from the office of Michigan’s Attorney General Bill Shuette. I would like to read to you a portion of it:
“Attorney General Bill Schuette made the following statements when testifying before the Michigan House Criminal Justice Committee last August: “The reason we are talking about life sentences is because there has been a killing – not an accident, or a spur of the moment mistake, but murder in the first degree,” Schuette testified. “And while the juvenile is sentenced to life in prison, the victim is sentenced to death - forever. The victim’s family then grapples with the aftermath of post-traumatic stress, depression, unyielding grief, and visits to a grave. The integrity of our justice system demands crime victims and their families come first.”
The good news is that the Michigan Court of Appeals held that Miller is not to be applied retroactively. The Michigan Supreme Court is now considering the issue, and I argued strongly that Miller should only apply going forward. Additionally, Michigan has new law that specifies that juvenile murderers can still get life without parole, with the required alternative sentence being from 25-40 years as a minimum, and 60 or more years as a maximum. If the courts hold that Miller is to be applied retroactively, this sentencing scheme would apply.”
I feel let down by the Massahussetts Justice System and have so many questions. Who is thinking about the victim’s family? Why do convicted murderers have more rights than the victims? What if the victim was your daughter, sister, mother, cousin or friend? Would you feel the same way about a 15 year sentence? Would you feel the same way about your loved ones killer having a parole hearing after you were told he would never get out? We can only pray you never live through what we live through every day. Beth’s killer was not on our minds the last 20 years, now he is all we think about every day. What can we do to keep him in jail? Who can guide us to make sure he never steps out and becomes your neighbor or worse kills again?
Senator Tarr Presenting bill s2008
Since the Massachusetts court ruling, we have spent every available minute educating ourselves and researching our options. My Mom, Sean and Kellie were with Senator Tarr and Senator Finegold at the State House in January when they presented bill s2008. This bill is the first step to help future victims of violence such as the family of Colleen Ritzer. Bill s2008 proposes to increase the 15 year sentence to 35 year sentence before a juvenile murderer is eligible for parole. It’s still not long enough in my opinion, but it’s a start. This bill will not help my family or the other victim’s families affected by this ruling.
Meanwhile, with help from friends, we created JusticeForBeth.org and a strong social media presence on Facebook and Twitter. We have an online petition to keep Beth’s killer in jail that was started in January and has over 6,200 signatures! We held a candlelight vigil for Beth in February; about 300 people attended. The outreach from friends, family, and community members has helped us get our story out to newspapers and news stations all over the region and even abroad into Europe. My brother Sean has been an inspiration and has been in contact with many Senators and Legislators. Every day he is Tweeting or sending hundreds of emails so our story is heard.
We must stand up for the victims’ in this state. Each and every one of you in this room can make a difference. Make a phone call, write an email, or sign a petition. Every bit helps. My family will sit through a parole hearing every 2, 3 or 5 years depending on the parole board’s decision. And whatever the number is, we will go to every parole hearing and fight to keep Beth’s killer in jail.
Beth no longer has a voice, we are her voice now.
Meanwhile, with help from friends, we created JusticeForBeth.org and a strong social media presence on Facebook and Twitter. We have an online petition to keep Beth’s killer in jail that was started in January and has over 6,200 signatures! We held a candlelight vigil for Beth in February; about 300 people attended. The outreach from friends, family, and community members has helped us get our story out to newspapers and news stations all over the region and even abroad into Europe. My brother Sean has been an inspiration and has been in contact with many Senators and Legislators. Every day he is Tweeting or sending hundreds of emails so our story is heard.
We must stand up for the victims’ in this state. Each and every one of you in this room can make a difference. Make a phone call, write an email, or sign a petition. Every bit helps. My family will sit through a parole hearing every 2, 3 or 5 years depending on the parole board’s decision. And whatever the number is, we will go to every parole hearing and fight to keep Beth’s killer in jail.
Beth no longer has a voice, we are her voice now.
