by Jon Krakauer
“Yes, I would,” Peterson replied. “We all know where Beau was headed, what he had in front of him. All those doors are closed. The only one that’s remotely cracked open is the one I have, you know, a tradesman….He’s a hard worker, and I could train him to do it. I don’t know what else to do.”
John Peterson was articulate and genuine on the stand—a very effective witness for Beau Donaldson. But Fred Van Valkenburg is a skilled litigator, and after Milt Datsopoulos sat down, Van Valkenburg began his cross-examination with a perfectly aimed strike. “Mr. Peterson,” he said, “at the very beginning of the testimony here, you told us you have a daughter?”
“Yes, sir,” Peterson replied.
“How old is she?”
“She’s twenty-six years old.”
“So, if Beau Donaldson had chosen to rape your daughter instead of Allison,” Van Valkenburg asked, “how would that affect your testimony today?”
“Well,” Peterson answered, “I’d be testifying as Mr. Huguet did, not as an impartial person. That’s apples and oranges. Allison Huguet and Kristen Peterson are two separate people.”
“I guess they are,” Van Valkenburg mused, “because Kristen didn’t get raped, did she?…But basically what you’re telling us is you’d have the same reaction Mr. Huguet did?”
“I’m sure I would.”
If Donaldson had raped Kristen Peterson instead of Allison Huguet, Van Valkenburg demanded, “that would tell you [something] a hell of a lot different about Beau Donaldson, wouldn’t it?”
“Hypothetically….I don’t know,” Peterson stammered. A moment later he conceded, “I guess, yes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Before his sentencing hearing, Beau Donaldson was ordered to undergo psychosexual evaluations by two different psychologists—one hired by the defense, the other hired by the prosecution—to determine how likely he was to rape again and to assess his potential for responding favorably to sex-offender therapy. When the psychologist who performed the first evaluation, Dr. Robert Page, appeared at the hearing as a witness for Donaldson, Milt Datsopoulos asked him to explain the purpose of evaluating his client.
The purpose, Dr. Page answered, was to obtain information about his personality traits and the risk he posed to the community, in order “to provide the most responsible recommendations for not only the rehabilitation of the individual, but rehabilitation in the least restrictive environment while maintaining safety to society.” Page added that all the data he’d analyzed suggested that Donaldson was “within the low-to-moderate-risk range.” According to Page, his evaluation also showed that Donaldson would respond well to sex-offender therapy while living in the community, as long as he was “monitored for abstinence from drugs and alcohol, one hundred percent.”
Datsopoulos asked Dr. Page if Beau Donaldson was “remorseful—sincerely remorseful—and contrite for his actions.”
“At this point,” Page said, “I believe he’s got some remorse. I just can’t put my finger on exactly whether or not that’s absolutely genuine, in terms of the effect of his actions on the victim, or whether it’s, you know, more related to a fear” of the punishment he might receive. “So,” Page explained, “I would be irresponsible telling you that I know there’s genuine remorse going on in Beau Donaldson right now.”
When it was his turn to cross-examine Dr. Page, prosecutor Fred Van Valkenburg asked him about the importance of punishing Donaldson, not only in terms of his rehabilitation but also for Allison Huguet’s recovery from being raped. Van Valkenburg pointed out to Page, “I think you said, based on your work with victims, one of the things that victims really need is a sense of retribution. Is that what you meant?”
Dr. Page answered, “One of the things that victims respond to therapeutically is the retribution of the perpetrator, that’s true.”
Retribution, Van Valkenburg continued, “primarily involves the punishment of the perpetrator, in the sense that if the victim feels that there has been some retribution or punishment,” it’s easier for her to heal than “if the victim thinks that the perpetrator essentially got away with what he did.”
“Well stated,” Page said. “Yes.”
A couple of minutes later, Van Valkenburg asked Dr. Page about a clinical interview of Beau Donaldson he’d done. “Would it be fair to say that Mr. Donaldson’s account of what happened, what he told you in that clinical interview, differed very significantly from what was set out in the police reports?”
“Yes,” Dr. Page replied.
“And would it be fair to say that he essentially tried to tell you in that interview that he really didn’t commit the offense of sexual intercourse without consent, because he thought this woman was consenting to what he was doing?”
“I would interpret it that way at the time,” Page agreed. Denial was not uncommon in perpetrators undergoing this kind of evaluation, he said: “It’s an indication of the necessity [for aggressive] sex-offender treatment.”
“And it’s also, I guess, an indication that if he’s not being truthful with you in the clinical interview, you’re not getting the whole picture,” Van Valkenburg parried.
“Yeah,” the psychologist reluctantly conceded. But Dr. Page insisted that he was nevertheless able to discern enough about Donaldson to recognize “a lack of accountability that needs to be addressed in treatment.” The more pertinent question, Page said, was whether such sex-offender treatment needed “to be done in a residential setting or not” to be effective.
After Dr. Page was excused from the courtroom, the defense called its next witness, Dr. Jim Myers, the psychologist who’d been hired in advance of the hearing by the prosecution to conduct the second psychosexual evaluation of Beau Donaldson. Like Dr. Page, Dr. Myers testified that his assessment indicated that Donaldson was “a low risk to reoffend,” and therefore he recommended that Donaldson “be allowed to enter an outpatient treatment program,” rather than being required to receive treatment while incarcerated.
During his cross-examination, Van Valkenburg noted that a big part of what Myers relied on to make a risk assessment was the personal history of the perpetrator. “And to a large extent,” Van Valkenburg argued, “that means [the perpetrator’s] criminal history….So if someone has done bad things but has never gotten caught before, they come up as a low risk even if they’ve done a whole bunch of bad things that haven’t gotten caught.”
“That’s true,” Dr. Myers concurred. “They could have ten offenses and only been charged with one right now. That’s a problem with risk assessment.”
Van Valkenburg reminded the court that two years before Beau Donaldson raped Allison Huguet, he’d attempted to rape Hillary McLaughlin. “And were it not for the fact that [the assault of McLaughlin was discovered] in the course of this sentencing process, that would not be factored in at all.”
Myers agreed. Furthermore, he acknowledged, when he’d asked Donaldson about what had happened with McLaughlin, Donaldson had lied about it and insisted that he hadn’t tried to rape her.
This prompted Van Valkenburg to remind Dr. Myers that during his evaluation of Beau Donaldson, Donaldson had also lied about what he’d done to Huguet. “So wasn’t it pretty odd,” Van Valkenburg demanded, “after he had already entered a guilty plea, that he was essentially telling you he had consensual sex with Allison Huguet?”
“Yes, and I asked him about that,” Myers replied. “I said…, ‘How can you go and say you’re guilty [in the plea agreement], and here you are, telling me you’re not guilty?’ ” Donaldson tried to explain away the lie by telling another lie: He claimed he didn’t know that Huguet was asleep when he had sex with her and learned that she was unconscious only “after the fact.”
As Van Valkenburg was wrapping up his questioning, he asked Dr. Myers about an entry-level treatment program for drug and alcohol dependency that Donaldson, after he’d been arrested, had completed with a clinical social worker named Paul Sells. Van Valkenburg wondered if Myers knew what the
treatment provided by Sells “consisted of.”
“Not really,” Dr. Myers answered. “I know it’s more of an education thing, and also trying to get people to express and talk about their feelings. And that’s where Beau ran into some trouble….He has a hard time talking about his feelings, expressing his emotions, which kind of goes along with the mold a lot of us guys are cut from, I guess. Anyhow, that was a problem for him within therapy.”
“He certainly never got involved in any community sex-offender treatment, did he?” Van Valkenburg asked.
“No,” Myers answered, “he never did.”
“I have no other questions,” Van Valkenburg told the court.
But before Judge Townsend excused Dr. Myers from the witness stand, she wanted to ask him some questions of her own. Myers, it turned out, had talked to both Paul Sells and Beau Donaldson about the efficacy of Donaldson’s treatment for chemical dependency. Townsend asked Myers if Sells had given him “sort of a different picture” of how successful the therapy had been, compared to the picture Donaldson had provided.
“He did, Your Honor,” Myers said.
“In fact, he said it didn’t go as well as Beau told you, right?” Judge Townsend inquired.
“That’s right.”
Townsend asked if Sells had told Dr. Myers “that Donaldson was ‘not adept at processing feelings and engaging in any real therapy.’ ”
“He did say that, Your Honor,” Myers confirmed.
“So how is he going to take advantage of any kind of therapy if…he won’t do it?” Townsend asked.
According to Paul Sells, Myers answered, “It wasn’t so much that Beau didn’t see a need for treatment. It’s just that, yes, he does have a hard time processing things. There’s a lot of shame, and guilt, embarrassment, humiliation where he is. He’s having a hard time talking about that.” Dr. Myers pointed out, however, that Beau Donaldson’s willingness to actively engage in therapy, including sex-offender therapy, would probably be different if it were required as part of his sentence. “When somebody is court-ordered to complete treatment,” Myers said, they learn to talk “pretty quickly, and express feelings, and start dealing with things.”
“Because there is a hammer over their head?” Townsend asked.
“Yeah,” Myers answered.
—
THE FINAL TWO witnesses for the defense were Beau Donaldson and his father, Larry Donaldson. Larry appeared on the stand first, with his wife standing silently beside him. Looking exhausted, he said of his son, “He is a young man. He’s remorseful. That doesn’t, you know, make it right. Let him make it right; he will….And there’s no reason to hate. I can’t hate anyone, because I can’t heal if I hate you. And we have to heal.”
Addressing the Huguets, Larry Donaldson said, “The Huguet family and the Donaldson family have to heal, or we’ll fail. And I want to heal. And I want Beau to be responsible to help your daughter heal. And he will, as she asked….I know that’s a big thing to ask, but he will help her heal….And, Allison, I’ve known you forever. It made me cry. It makes me cry when I look at my boy. But I can forgive my son, because I know the love in his heart….
“You know, alcohol won again. It’s a very destructive deal. I don’t drink. I haven’t drank since my kids were born. I didn’t teach them to drink, and I don’t condone drinking. And give him a chance. Let him understand what it does….
“Whatever has went on in this community over the past year [regarding the slandering of Allison] has nothing to do with Beau, or instigated by Beau, or instigated by me or my wife or my family. I mean, when it happens, what’s involved again? Alcohol. That’s when we hate each other, is when we drink.
“And I love my boy….I’ll see you soon. I hope sooner than later. I’ll be your rock now, because you’ve been my rock all your life.”
Finally, it was Beau Donaldson’s turn to address the court. “I just want to start off by apologizing to everyone involved,” he said in a faltering voice, “most first to Allison and her family and her close friends; and secondly my family and friends and everyone that this has affected….And I hope that me being here and apologizing helps Allison heal, helps her with what she has lost by me breaking our friendship that night by taking advantage of her.”
When Donaldson returned to the defense counsel’s table, Fred Van Valkenburg stood to make his closing statement. “Your Honor, this case is an extremely good example of what rape often really looks like,” he began. Most rapes, he explained, involve people “who know each other….And there is a huge violation of trust when that occurs….
“When you read the letters that have been submitted on behalf of Beau Donaldson, you’d think we were talking about whether he should get the most valuable player award or he should…just be excused for having made a mistake….And I think that comes about, by and large, because I don’t think Beau Donaldson has been honest. He hasn’t been honest with his own family. He hasn’t been honest with the people that he knows best. He hasn’t been honest with the community of Missoula as to what he actually did. He’s having to finally face up to what he did, and it’s very difficult for him to do that.
“It’s very moving when he’s on the witness stand telling people how sorry he is. But if you go back to the very first witness in this sentencing hearing, Mr. Huguet, it’s also very moving to see what Beau Donaldson did to the Huguet family….
“The state has agreed to make a recommendation of thirty years in the Montana State Prison, with twenty years suspended. That’s what I recommend the court do….Mr. Donaldson will become eligible for parole within two and a half years of the time that he starts serving that sentence. I think that will give him the time and the opportunity to complete, without a doubt, sex-offender treatment.”
According to Montana’s sentencing policy, Van Valkenburg noted, “the very first thing the court should consider is to punish each offender commensurate with the nature and degree of harm caused by the offense, and to hold the offender accountable. We’ve had cases where the court has had to sentence people to as much as one hundred years in prison for a rape, and to deny parole eligibility. The state is not asking for anything like that in this case. But what we’re asking for is a very reasonable sentence, one that I think reflects the seriousness of the offense Mr. Donaldson committed….It’s not just Allison Huguet that he’s offended. We know that he’s done this to at least one other person….
“People in Missoula need to know that if you rape an acquaintance, it is a serious crime, and that there needs to be a punishment that fits the crime.”
—
MILT DATSOPOULOS, as Beau Donaldson’s lawyer, was given the opportunity to have the final word. As he delivered his closing statement, he brought to mind a quarterback scrambling to throw one last Hail Mary pass. “This is one of those cases that’s unusually difficult because a good person committed a tragic and very serious criminal activity that wounded a young lady,” Datsopoulos offered. “And she’s…going to continue to need assistance and time to try to heal and get on with her life. I’m not trying to diminish that….
“The fact of the matter is, the punishment that has occurred already is massive here. The shame, the humiliation, the destruction of a reputation….All I’m asking the court to do is look at the broad, available forms of punishment and tailor that punishment, not only to the crime but to the defendant….
“This system of criminal justice in the United States is insane. We’ve got a country that sentences more people, particularly young people, to prison, per capita, than any country in the world. And they get sentenced for a longer period than any other country in the world. I’m talking about countries like Uganda and Venezuela. And this is part of what happens when you take young people and you use a meat cleaver like Mr. Van Valkenburg wants to be used here.
“What I’m recommending is five years [at the] Department of Corrections. The Department of Corrections is part of the Montana State Prison system. If you sentence him to
the Department of Corrections, he doesn’t walk out of here with a slap on the wrist. He’s taken out of here in handcuffs. He’s taken to an incarceration facility that in many ways is much tougher than a prison, because you’re in very tight quarters with extraordinary rules, and you’re there for six months to a year.”
When Datsopoulos finished, Judge Townsend thanked him, then addressed the perpetrator. “So, Mr. Donaldson,” she asked, “is there anything additional you want to say before I impose sentencing?”
“No,” Beau Donaldson replied meekly.
“Would you stand, please,” she ordered. When Donaldson was on his feet, she said, “The court finds this an incredibly troubling case…because I think what has happened here is that a young woman’s trust has been violently taken away from her, and in a way that has caused substantial damage to her, and that the impact of the act has had substantial impact on her family.
“My recollection is that one of the witnesses who testified today wished that he were Superman, where he could turn the world backwards and prevent this night from ever happening at all….I’ve often wished that I had a magic wand, that I could wipe away the kind of hurt that has happened to somebody, and even for folks accused of crimes…so that they don’t have to face these kinds of consequences. But, Beau, there are consequences for your behavior. Even though you have lived a pretty good life up until this point, there is absolutely no excuse for what you did this night….It’s hard for this court to accept that it was just a mistake, like making a wrong turn someplace, or adding up something incorrectly….The court will sentence you to the Montana State Prison for the period of thirty years, with twenty of those years suspended….You’re remanded to the custody of the sheriff for imposition of sentence.”
As Judge Townsend pronounced his fate, Beau Donaldson’s body went slack and he began to weep. His girlfriend screamed hysterically from the gallery. A detention officer cuffed Donaldson’s hands behind his back, then escorted him from the courtroom through a side door. Upon exiting the courthouse, he was taken to jail to await transport to Deer Lodge, an eighty-five-mile drive down the frozen interstate.