Jane Doe No More (38 page)

In April 2001, Donna decided to go public with her story—in her own way, that is. She reached out to John Murray, the editor of the
Waterbury Observer,
a monthly paper Donna respected. As they talked, Murray encouraged Donna to tell her version of the events and get her agenda out there for the people to read and decide upon for themselves.

That front-page story, simply and appropriately titled “      S
URVIVOR   
,” said it all, with the subtitle putting Donna’s struggle into perspective: “O
NE WOMAN’S EIGHT YEAR TRIUMPH TO OVERCOME RAPE, AND A CONFRONTATION WITH
W
ATERBURY
P
OLICE . . .
”

Now it was Donna’s turn.

“She was crushed at the [other local newspaper’s] trial coverage,” Murray wrote in the opening of his article, “which rehashed rumor, and overlooked key facts that won the case.”

My trial had lasted about a month. There were twists and turns, but toward the end it became apparent that I was winning. The court reporter from our [local paper] covered the police beat, and she came to the trial sporadically and sat with the defense. Her reporting was skewed toward the defense, and she didn’t bother to cover the trial on the day Neil O’Leary testified. I would come home from court knowing that we had a good day and read the paper the next morning and become sick to my stomach. Here I was, trying to clear my name and set the record straight, and the biased reporting just added to the swirl of misinformation and innuendo in our community. Anyone following the story would have to scratch their heads when the verdict came back that the officers were found negligent based on the printed word. It was maddening. I had my surgery and six-plus weeks of radiation facing me, but it nagged at me. Then I thought, wait, there is a monthly alternative paper in town. I called John Murray, the publisher of the
Waterbury Observer,
and asked for a confidential meeting, and he obliged. I met with John, and we worked together for the next two months. This was my opportunity to tell the world the unadulterated truth of what had happened.

Donna remained Jane Doe in the article, but Murray explained for his readers who Donna was within the community. John and Donna were given the names Rachael and Bob for the story.

The nine-page article about Donna’s ordeal left no stone unturned. Murray wrote about the entire case, from a moment-by-moment account of Donna’s rape to the trial against the city seven years later. For the first time, Waterbury citizens had an idea of the toll the case had taken on Donna and her family. Her story—still without the ending of her attacker being brought to justice—was finally out in the public domain in its entirety.

Probably more important to Donna than the story being published was that the
Observer,
to its credit, published the changes Donna wanted within the WPD in a sidebar space taking up about three-quarters of the page. The boldface-type accompaniment to the main article outlined those thirteen pivotal points of change in policy and procedure Donna had wanted implemented based on her research and personal experience.

Regarding the local newspaper’s coverage of the trial, Maureen Norris’s colleague, Robert Kolesnick, had one of the more controversial quotes of the piece, saying, “We don’t try our cases in the press. But the [local] paper’s coverage raped her all over again.”

Equally important to Donna was a column Murray published in the same edition of the paper in which her story ran. Murray titled it “RAPE” and outlined the many misconceptions and facts surrounding the ubiquitous crime. The main theme of the column was that many victims of rape are often afraid to come forward and report the crime—and a case such as Donna’s doesn’t help that.

“Silence is killing us,” Murray wrote, quite appropriately, near the end of his column. “It’s time to talk.” He quoted a survivor of rape who had said that when a victim of rape comes forward to tell her story, “It helps take away the power of this experience, and its subsequent shame . . .”

What appalled Donna most was the fact that Doug Moran was still on the job as the year 2001 ended. More than that, Robert Moran had retired years before and had been appointed by Governor John Rowland, a friend of the family, to a cushy job as vice chairman and chief of operations for the Connecticut Board of Parole. Sure, Donna had won her civil court case. She had come out and told her story. But when one looked at the results, the fact remained that the same situation could still happen under the current WPD regime.

The anxiety of my attacker being someone in the community that knew me became overwhelming as time passed after my civil trial. Neil O’Leary and Pudgie Maia, still investigating my case, were still convinced the crime was premeditated and my attacker knew John was away for the weekend.

Everywhere I went, now that my case had become public, I was still Jane Doe. However, around town many people knew exactly who I was post-trial. This became a test for me to deal with. I didn’t know if my rapist was someone from my business world, or my personal or social life. I was convinced that he was someone close—and, as time went on, that was the most terrifying part of it all. 

Neil O’Leary was still with the WPD and certainly qualified to solve the case. He went up against his fellow officers during my trial, and I knew he wanted a resolution. Neil cared about John and me deeply. He was being ostracized at work. But then you had others inside the WPD, many of whom were still unqualified, essentially, to solve my case—and I had to ask myself: Besides Neil and a few others, since winning the lawsuit, was the WPD even interested in solving it?

Donna’s instincts about her attacker were accurate. Yet neither she nor John had any idea just how close the assailant was.

Pivotal in identifying the man who raped Donna was Neil O’Leary, who became a captain within the WPD near the end of 2001 and, by 2003, the chief of the Waterbury Police Department.

Regardless of what anybody else inside the department thought of Donna’s win in court, the chief of police was now on her side and determined to solve the case.

Neil had never forgotten about Donna.

One of the first initiatives Neil implemented as the new chief was an overhaul of the policy and procedure manual for the WPD, much of which was based on Donna’s case and the recommendations she had wanted to make all along. Donna offered her assistance on the sexual assault portion of the manual, and Neil allowed Donna to consult with his staff and make suggestions.

I feel a bit of redemption sneaking back into my life. A sergeant from the WPD I had been working with on the manual asked me to come into the WPD one day in November 2003. Something remarkable happened. Something I will never forget as long as I live. Something that changed my outlook and feelings. When I arrived at the WPD, the officer said, “Although you have never received an apology from the officers who were negligent, I want to, on behalf of the entire Waterbury Police Department, apologize for what happened to you.”

I was brought to tears. I felt as if nothing could bring me down from the high I was on heading into the mid-2000s. My world was coming back together.