Trigger warning: sexual violence, rape
Quinnipiac University’s College of Arts and Sciences’ Intellectual and Cultural Events Fund and the Department of Justice and Law hosted the founder and president of Jane Doe No More, Donna Palomba, March 31.
This is the second consecutive year the university has hosted Palomba.
Professor of Criminal Justice Lori Sudderth and Teaching Instructor of Criminal Justice Diane Langlan-Wortz led the event.
Sudderth co-teaches a class on sexual violence victim advocacy with the Women & Family Center, which also had representatives at the event. The class teaches students how to have conversations around sexual violence, while also allowing them to become state-certified victim advocates.
This year, the class saw its largest enrollment, thanks to last year’s presentation, according to Sudderth.
The registration process is different from a regular university course registration. The class’s process includes an interview with the Women & Family Center before acceptance.
At the start of the event Wortz introduced Palomba to a packed audience.
“(Palomba’s) here to share her story of her survivorship and her advocacy,” Wortz said. “If you are a survivor, you’re going to be validated, and you’re going to realize that you’re not alone in your journey. And for everybody who’s here, you are going to realize that you can be a part of a solution.”
Palomba began Jane Doe No More (a 501(c)(3) nonprofit) because of her personal experience, including her rape and revictimization.
“I truly enjoy talking to young people, especially the criminal justice students and really anyone because sexual crimes, I believe, are the most misunderstood and therefore underreported,” Palomba said to The Chronicle. “And yet there are so many people that are suffering in silence. So I think with education, we can get more towards prevention.”
She showed a short clip of her Dateline NBC episode that aired in 2007, when she launched the organization, to begin the presentation. Then, she began going into extensive detail about the night of her attack and the law enforcement errors that followed.
Despite a trigger warning given by both Wortz and Palomba at the start of the event, there was no trigger warning on the event flyer.
Palomba was attacked in her Connecticut home while her husband was on a work trip to Colorado. She was home alone with her two younger children, who were five and seven at the time.
An identifiable man broke in and raped her at gunpoint. When she escaped, she immediately ran to her children’s room.
“I knew as long as my kids were untouched, that I would be OK,” she said.
Despite the attacker threatening to kill her if the police were called, she attempted to call, and she realized the landlines were cut. She ran to a neighbor’s house, with the nylons that the attacker used still around her neck, and the police were notified.
Instead of being treated like a victim, Palomba was treated as the criminal. She was put in an interrogation room, and was read her Miranda Rights. The reasoning for the questioning was that it was an investigative method because they have “women that lie.”
Douglas Moran, whose brother was the supervisor and captain, questioned her and claimed that she was using the accusation of rape to cover up the fact that she was having an affair, because he “heard a rumor,” which he originally described as vague, “rock-solid evidence.”
Another reason was that the police officers didn’t want another case piled onto the ones they already had, according to Palomba.
“He said, ‘I have 27 cases on my desk, and one way or another, this case is getting close today,’” she recounted.
While the police interrogated Palomba, the medical documentation proved that she had been raped. She projected the photos of the documents during the event, which included notation of abrasions on her wrists, a scratched cornea and details of the DNA evidence found.
“With the help of my faith and my family, I pursued to sue in a civil case, sue these law enforcement officers,” said Palomba.
During this process, as an adult, she thought of the “one in four girls” and “one in six boys” who are sexually abused before the age of 18.
“How could someone that didn’t have the support of their family or a strong faith ever get through something like this?” she asked herself.
Seven years after the attack, she was able to go to trial. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with stage one breast cancer right before. Yet, for her own mental health, she needed the trial to take place, she said.
She described the trial as “brutal.” Multiple police officers covered for one another, some claiming she staged her own attack.
Forensic scientist and former Commissioner of the Connecticut Department of Public Safety, Henry Lee, who died March 27, was the one to testify that the crime scene was mishandled.
Psychologist David Johnson testified that while she was originally on her way to healing, Palomba was retraumatized by the experience with law enforcement.
The officers were found negligent, and the one officer, Sergeant Neil O’Leary, who testified against his colleagues, became chief. O’Leary solved the case 11 years after the attack when the perpetrator, John Regan, attempted to assault another woman. The DNA sample given at the time of his arrest matched the sample from Palomba’s rape kit.
Because he had an affluent background, Regan was freed on a $350,000 bond. He struck again in 2005 and was sentenced to 15 years as a result. Over four years were taken off his sentence for “good behavior,” according to Palomba.
However, due to New York’s Sex Offender Civil Management Law, he is still being held. This law is for perpetrators who a jury believes are likely to reoffend, and there is a risk to the safety of the community.
“This is for the worst of the worst offenders. Only like two or three percent ever fall in this category,” said Palomba.
After sharing her story, Palomba shared some of the effects trauma has on the body.
“I’m standing here as proof,” she said. “But it affects you physically. You know, it can be incredibly difficult. You can’t sleep well, and cognitively, you know, you get confused.”
She went on to advocate for legislation. In 2007, former Connecticut Governor Jodi Rell proposed a bill that would erase the statute of limitations on crimes with DNA. Palomba’s case was the impetus for the bill, and it was signed in the same police department where she was retraumatized.
“Taking action has become part of my healing process. By speaking about it, by educating others, I feel like I’m getting some of that power back that the perpetrator tried to steal from me,” Palomba said.
She shared the resources that Jane Doe No More provides, including informational videos for schools and Facebook support groups.
At the end of the presentation, students were able to ask Palomba questions.
One student asked how Palomba explained what happened to her children.
“The doctor said ‘they will ask what they’re ready to hear’,” she responded. “And my daughter asked if he had a gun. And I said, ‘Yes,’ and, you know, we dropped it.”
Palomba made sure her children were in therapy to be able to talk through what they were feeling, but she believes her daughter was more affected than her son, she said.
She also said that because there was an 11-year time span from the time of the attack to the arrest, there were instances where she was spending time around Regan, not realizing that he was her attacker.
She believes that if law enforcement had believed her right away, her attacker would’ve been caught much sooner.
She still has setbacks and dark days, whether it’s a flashback or a familiar smell, but she credits her strength to her faith, her family and herself.
“I want all victims to know that they are not alone. And there’s always resources and they will be believed,” she said to The Chronicle.
