Crash Into Me

by Liz Seccuro

  “Mike, wake up, honey, please! Mike! Pssst! Wake up—it’s on the morning news!” I pleaded.

  “Whaaaa?”

  “Just wake up and watch this with me,” I hissed. I was freaked out.

  He rolled over and rubbed his eyes. They about burst from the sockets.

  “Oh my God. The case is on television!” he bellowed.

  “Um, well, yeah,” I said. “I’ve been trying to tell you this. I guess it’s a big story here. Maybe we should just hide out here all day so no one hassles us.”

  “Hassles us for what? We didn’t do anything. He did.” Mike was right. But aside from hiding, I didn’t really know what to do until the hearing. We drove to a nearby shopping center to browse books, grab lunch, and kill some time.

  Back at the hotel, I put on my courtroom outfit, which consisted of opaque black tights, a black tank top, a black knit skirt, and a pink wool jacket. I wanted to seem businesslike, but not overly somber. Pink was the color of my foundation’s logo, and my visiting sorority sisters had pledged to wear it, too, in a show of solidarity. As I dressed in the hotel bathroom, I laughed to myself as I was reminded of one of Ava’s favorite movies, The Incredibles. There is a scene when a character wants to morph into his superhero self and yells to his wife, “Where … is … my … supersuit?!” I was transforming myself into a superwitness. I donned all of the lucky jewelry my husband had given me over the years and tucked my St. Christopher medal into my shoe. It was the same medal I had hidden in my sock as I pushed to deliver Ava, and that had gone rather quickly and without much drama. I knew St. Chris would keep me safe from Beebe.

  And then it was time and we could not turn back. That mug shot would be in court, alive and breathing, all six foot-whatever of him. In our rental car, we tooled our way past the Rotunda, Madison Bowl, Phi Kappa Psi, and the Corner. All the years fell away. The plan had been to walk over to the court with Dave Chapman, but Dave had seen the phalanx of cameras, lights, booms, talking heads, and microphones outside the courthouse and called my cell phone. He directed us to meet him there and park in back. We were escorted to the back door under armed guard. Mike gave me a brief hug and Cherri, my victim advocate, held my hand as we entered the room. The courtroom was much smaller than I’d imagined, and this gave me a bit of a start. All was quiet. I was last to arrive—clearly it had been orchestrated that way so that Beebe and I would not run into each other. I sat next to Dave at a long table. At a second table, facing us, were the lovely, raven-haired defense attorney, Rhonda Quagliana; her tall, white-haired boss, Francis McQ. Lawrence; and, of course, the accused. Not eight feet across from me, facing me square, was William Beebe. His face was completely blank and without any emotion. The gallery to my right was filled to capacity. So close were my sorority sisters and husband that I could have touched them if I’d stretched out my right arm. The judge, Edward J. DeBerry, sat to the left at the front of the room on a riser. I was marginally aware of armed guards and bailiffs positioned at every corner of the room, as well as members of the media and garden variety looky-loos who love to see a good session in court, especially in a potentially spectacular rape trial. This was “go” time.

  MARCH 24, 2006

  THE COURT: We’re here this afternoon on the case of William Beebe. Is the Commonwealth ready?

  DAVE CHAPMAN: Yes, sir.

  THE COURT: Defense ready?

  RHONDA QUAGLIANA: Yes, Your Honor.

  THE COURT: Okay, let the record reflect the Commonwealth is here in the presence of Mr. Chapman, Commonwealth’s Attorney. Defendant is present with his attorneys, Mr. Lawrence and Ms. Quagliana. Are there any witnesses in this case?

  CHAPMAN: Yes, there are.

  THE COURT: Okay, if they’ll come forward, please, and be sworn.

  I was the only witness. Knees shaking, I smoothed my knit skirt and put one foot in front of the other in order to be sworn in.

  CHAPMAN: Judge, we had intended to call Detective Scott Godfrey, Charlottesville Police Department, to establish venue in the case. And in speaking with Ms. Quagliana, for the purposes of this hearing, venue will be stipulated, so we’ll have one witness to present today.

  THE COURT: Okay [to me], raise your right hand.

  I did.

  THE COURT: Okay, if you’ll identify yourself for the reporter, please.

  ME: Elizabeth Seccuro.

  I swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  THE COURT: Okay, if you’ll just have a seat. Mr. Beebe, we will read the charge to you. Since this is a preliminary hearing on a felony, no plea need be entered. It is charged that on or about October the 5th, 1984, you did unlawfully and feloniously, in violation of Section 18.2-61 of the Code of Virginia, commit rape by having sexual intercourse with E.S., born 12.23.1966, a seventeen year old juvenile. Such act was accomplished against the victim’s will by force, threat or intimidation, or against the victim or another person.

  At this time, there was a brief discussion that no media outside normal court reporting would be allowed to tape the proceedings. Both prosecution and defense waived opening statements. It was my turn. I had to remain seated next to Dave Chapman at the conference table, facing William Beebe and his team, while Chapman’s direct examination of me began.

  CHAPMAN: We will call Ms. Seccuro as a witness. Is your name Elizabeth Seccuro?

  ME: Yes, it is.

  CHAPMAN: Okay. Now, because we’re making a recording of the proceedings today, we’ll ask you to keep your voice up to make sure it’s picked up on the recording device and to make sure we’re all able to hear you.

  ME: Okay.

  Dave asked me some basic questions, establishing that I was seventeen years old at the time of the alleged crime, living in Charlottesville, a student at the university. He asked whether I was aware of fraternity rush events going on that first semester, and about the nature of my relationship to Jim Long, the friend with whom I’d attended the party. Then, he turned to the night in question.

  CHAPMAN: All right. At some point in the early part of October, did you receive a request from him [Jim] about a rush activity?

  ME: Yes, I did. On the evening of October 5th he requested that I accompany him to a rush party at the Phi Kappa Psi house.

  CHAPMAN: Had you intended to go to any particular activities on that night?

  ME: No, I had not.

  CHAPMAN: Can you remember what day of the week that would have been?

  ME: It was a Thursday.

  CHAPMAN: Did you know where that [Phi Kappa Psi] was located?

  ME: I may have; I’m not quite sure.

  CHAPMAN: Did you actually go somewhere with him?

  ME: Yes.

  CHAPMAN: About what time of day was it on that day that you went?

  ME: I believe it to have been around eleven P.M.

  CHAPMAN: Okay. Now let me, to insure the Judge and we are all able to understand where you’re describing, with reference to nearby landmarks, could you tell the Court where the Phi Kappa Psi house is?

  ME: Yes, it is—if Madison Bowl is a rectangle, the Phi Kappa Psi house is the large house at the, well, at the head—at the head facing the Rotunda direction.*

  CHAPMAN: Do you know if at the time, for example, that you went there if you knew anybody who resided in that house or was a member of it?

  ME: I did not know anybody who resided in the house. I did know one member vaguely.

  CHAPMAN: When you got there, could you describe what activities were ongoing, if any?

  ME: The party was in full swing. There was certainly drinking, there was music, there was foosball, there was just general socialization.

  CHAPMAN: Where were those kinds of activities taking place?

  ME: In the first floor, all the common areas.

  He asked me about how much beer I’d had to drink, asking me to indicate the size of the cup with my hands. He asked whether I knew anyone else at the party, and my relationship to Hudson Millard. He asked when Jim h
ad left my side, and I explained how the brothers in the house had invited him to smoke. Then, he asked about the green drink.

  CHAPMAN: Can you recall to any extent the taste of it, the flavor of it and tell us whether it contained alcohol to your knowledge, or—

  ME: I assumed it did. It tasted very tart, very lime, and sour—very sour. Sour in a citrusy way.

  CHAPMAN: Now you say you assumed it contained alcohol?

  ME: I did—

  CHAPMAN: Okay. Did you know?

  ME: No, I do not.

  CHAPMAN: Did you know if it contained any other substances besides alcohol?

  ME: I do not.

  CHAPMAN: At the time you got the [green] drink, before consuming any of it, how would you describe how you felt?

  ME: I was not intoxicated. I was—I don’t know the term for it, but relaxed. Pleasantly relaxed. Not impaired.

  CHAPMAN: Now, once you began to drink the drink that you had been given on the second floor, did the way you felt change in any way?

  ME: It did.

  CHAPMAN: Could you describe how it changed and over what time period that change took place?

  ME: Almost with immediacy, but I don’t believe I was really attuned or alarmed by it, and over the next fifteen minutes I noticed that my limbs were—the best way to put it was they were sort of immobilized. They felt rubbery. Like a marionette, like they weren’t moving very well. It was my arms and legs.

  CHAPMAN: The feeling that you’re describing, could you describe its onset and progression in terms of whether it was quick or gradual?

  ME: It was very quick. It was not the sort of thing you would notice unless you stood up. It was much more marked on just—during my interactions there, just standing or sitting, it became most apparently obvious upon standing.

  CHAPMAN: Now, were you moving about after you got the drink and—

  ME: I was.

  CHAPMAN: In what way and what places and what were you doing?

  ME: I was in that room and just socializing with various people, making small talk. At times I was seated on furniture, at times I was standing.

  And then:

  CHAPMAN: Now, at that time did you know a William Beebe[?]

  ME: I did not.

  CHAPMAN: Let me ask you to look across the courtroom. The gentleman who’s seated between Ms. Quagliana and Mr. Lawrence—

  ME: That is him.

  CHAPMAN: Did you see that gentleman that night on the second floor?

  ME: I did.

  CHAPMAN: When did you see him in comparison to the drink that you got on the second floor?

  ME: I don’t know when he came to be in that room, but I recall an awareness of him being there because we began to speak, so I don’t know exactly where he came from.

  CHAPMAN: Could you describe to the Court the initial interaction that you had with him?

  ME: It was very brief small talk, hi, how are you, introductions, where are you from, what’s your major, the sort of thing that you talk about when you meet somebody and are chatting at a party.

  More questions followed about our conversation, Beebe’s level of intoxication, and my impairment at this point.

  CHAPMAN: Now, to what extent do you think, and if you’re able to say, you were affected in terms of your ability to see and hear and speak?

  ME: I was fine there. I could see very clearly.

  CHAPMAN: Do you recall whether you remarked to anybody, to the Defendant or anyone else about how you felt?

  ME: I don’t recall.

  CHAPMAN: In the area you’ve described on the second floor, was there ever any physical contact between yourself and the Defendant?

  ME: Yes, there was.

  CHAPMAN: Can you remember what you were doing and how that happened?

  ME: While we were talking, we were sitting and he said to me, “I want to show you something,” and he grabbed me by my arm and led me down a hallway towards a room.

  CHAPMAN: Now, how did that strike you and in light of your awareness or lack of awareness of him, and the context at the time, would you tell the Court how you felt and what you thought and what you did?

  ME: It struck me as bizarre because I didn’t know this person, but at this point in time, I was really not able to do much for myself, and I thought the best place to be when my friend came back was to be in this room so he could find me. I found it awkward and I found it socially bizarre.

  CHAPMAN: Did you go?

  ME: I did.

  CHAPMAN: Did you offer any physical resistance?

  ME: I did, yes.

  CHAPMAN: In what way[?]

  ME: In my own limited capacity, I know that I said something like “No, I don’t want to go” and it was something like “Oh, come on, it’ll be fun, let me show you this” and I pretty much good naturedly went along. But I was trying to resist, but not—certainly didn’t think anything dangerous was happening.

  CHAPMAN: And where did you go ultimately?

  ME: To a room at the end of the hall.

  Chapman asked for a lot of specifics about the room: position of the room in relation to the street, the bed in relation to the room, the sofa in relation to the door, and the orientation of furniture. This was simply a reiteration of my conversations with Detectives Rudman and Godfrey, where I had drawn a picture of the whole house and of the room in question.

  CHAPMAN: Thank you. Now, having gone to that room, could you tell the Court what happened after going into the room?

  ME: At this time, the Defendant—there was also a chair and a desk—the Defendant brought me into the room, led me by the arm. He sat down on a chair and he had me—he grabbed me around my waist and hoisted me onto his lap at which time he showed me a book which I recall was bound in the green fabric like—almost like a rare book, an antique book, when they used to actually bind books with cloth. And it was some sort of book of poetry, I don’t recall what it was and he began reading it to me and holding me onto his lap and then he began kissing me and I did not really think this was appropriate.

  CHAPMAN: What did you do, if anything?

  ME: I tried to get up and I did manage to free myself from his grasp and I went out into the hallway as quickly as possible and the room where my handbag was locked from the outside with a padlock.

  CHAPMAN: And what did you do, if anything, having reached this point?

  Here I started to falter, but there was no going back. I had to walk through the fire and I was acutely aware of Beebe sitting right there. I looked to the right a bit to see the comforting faces of people I knew. They all looked stricken. Up until this point it had been as if I was speaking of someone else during my testimony. But the image of that room being padlocked on the outside made me fight back tears. I felt all of the defeat and helplessness rushing back. Plus, I knew where we were going with this line of questioning. I felt myself sliding down the rabbit hole.

  ME: I began to kick and scream because I knew that my acquaintance, Mr. Millard, was locked in that room.

  CHAPMAN: Okay, had you seen that happen?

  ME: I saw them usher him into the room and lock him in there.

  CHAPMAN: Now, did you—did the door come open at any time?

  ME: No, it did not.

  CHAPMAN: Were you able to contact anyone?

  ME: I just began screaming and kicking the door. I had a flat shoe on. I was pounding the door, I was calling Hud’s name. I said that I wanted to leave and could he help me, that my purse was in there, could he help me?

  CHAPMAN: Was there any response from inside?

  ME: No, there was not.

  You could hear an audible sigh of resignation in the room. No one wanted to go any further here, least of all me.

  CHAPMAN: Was there any response from anybody else in the vicinity?

  ME: There was. One of the brothers, who ostensibly had been mixing drinks in the room on the second floor, came over to me as I was pounding and kicking and screaming on the door. He picked me up under my shoulders, and th
e Defendant grabbed me from behind and deposited me back into the Defendant’s room.

  CHAPMAN: Now, and where were you taken?

  ME: I was deposited back into that same room overlooking Madison Lane.

  CHAPMAN: And who was in that room after that happened?

  ME: The Defendant.

  There, in the room, with my rapist. And here I was, in a room, facing him again.

  CHAPMAN: Was there anybody else in the room?

  ME: No.

  CHAPMAN: Where did the other person go, if you know?

  ME: He left.

  CHAPMAN: Now, let me ask you, as of the time that you were deposited back into the room, would you tell the Court how you were feeling physically and, as well, how you were feeling in terms of your alertness and sobriety and the like?

  ME: I can tell you that I was extremely alert. I could see, I could hear, I could speak. However, my muscle coordination was extremely compromised. I can also tell you that I was having a bit of difficulty breathing, most likely because I was very panicky at this stage.

  CHAPMAN: Now, was anybody making physical contact with you after you ended up back in the room?

  ME: The Defendant.

  CHAPMAN: Okay, what was the physical contact that he was making with you after you got put back in the room?

  ME: Well, he shut the door and he turned out the lights. And I knew it was him because the lights were on.

  CHAPMAN: Now, as those things happened, were you in physical contact with him?

  ME: I came to be, yes.

  It made me nervous breaking this down into second-by-second detail. It all happened so suddenly, a rush in my memory, and I feared that the defense would use it against me if there was a hole of even a few seconds in my story.

  CHAPMAN: Now, when you came to be, yes, the way I’m hearing that is there was a period of time when you were not in physical contact with him.

  ME: I was still trying to get away, one last effort. When I mean I came to be, I mean there was a few seconds interval.