“Demon inside and out”: FULL victim impact statements from Gilgo Beach sentencing

[00:00:00] Speaker 1: Mr. Heuermann, you have done horrendous things to Valerie's earthly body, but you have not touched the real Valerie. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, there are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Everyone you've joked with, worked with, married, snuffed, or even killed, is born an immortal creature. Each will live forever, either in majestic glory or imaginable horror. I can only imagine when my day comes and I find myself standing before Jesus, Valerie will be at his side. [00:00:58] Speaker 2: Your Honor, I would like to say to Mr. Heuermann, what you have done to our family is beyond what words can express. Even though justice is done, it cannot replace what you have taken from us. Or can it give our beloved Valerie back her life here on earth? I do, however, want you to understand that even though you were able to commit these horrendous atrocities against our daughter. And no matter what sense of power or control you felt over Valerie's body, you were never able to touch her soul. I'm telling you, unless you get yourself right before God, Valerie is the one who is free today and you are not. She is living her life with her savior, Jesus Christ, and what you have done has gained you nothing. I'd like you to understand the thing that is the saddest to bear is that you took away every chance that she ever had these past 26 years years. You took her life to attain any of the goals that she had set for herself. And she did. She had hopes and she had dreams and you took it all away from her. And you can never give her back. No matter how much remorse or regret or if you're sorry, I'll never know. But you cannot give her back what you took from her and her son. You took away a lifetime for him of his mother's love. [00:03:12] Speaker 3: Hello. Today, I'm here to talk about the impact of Mr. Hewerman's crimes. I don't come to address him because I don't believe he is worth addressing. He doesn't have the humanity to feel remorse. He is a selfish, entitled man who felt like my sister and the other victims' lives were his to destroy. My sister was not in a good place when she met Mr. Hewerman, and he took advantage of that. She'd never have looked twice at him if she hadn't been struggling. Despite her struggles, despite the mugshot that the media has spread of her, Valerie Mack had a fire inside of her that lit up the world around her. She was strong, protective, sharp, funny, and beautiful inside and out. From what I have heard of Jessica, Maureen, Melissa, Megan, Amber, Sandra, and Karen, this is something all these girls shared in common. Mr. Hewerman may have snuffed out their lives and took them away from us, but the fires they lit roar inside each and every one of us. And that is something he can never rob us of. [00:04:26] Speaker 4: I'll never forget how I felt when I got that call. I couldn't wrap my mind around the word "torso." I couldn't wrap my mind around the word "torso." No way could someone do that to someone I love. Torso. Headless and handless. These words haunt me. Our prefrontal cortex had barely finished. Torso? I thought that was a midriff. It's a chopped up body. No way. Disgusting. Awful. Terrifying. Monstrous. Brutal. What? Parts of her are all over the place missing? They didn't find all of her? All of her. Headless and handless. I still don't understand. That weekend. That weekend she was supposed to come home. That weekend family and friends were looking for her. Loved ones were calling her. She wasn't going to miss that weekend. She never picked up the phone. She didn't call anyone back. Because of you. I will hate Khalil forever. And I can't even put into words the viscerating loading I have for you. My heart broke even more that there were more victims. Sick. Twisted. Heartless. There aren't enough words for these murders. My heart sinks even low. But for the victims that have not been named or found. May they too get just sick. 23 years. 23 years we've waited. For a while it felt like this day would never come. The pain and devastation your murders have caused. Is immeasurable. Sometimes it doesn't feel real. Decades later her presence is missed. Always. Decades we have wondered. Who could have done that? And then the call. They found her skull. Her skull? Was found. Years. Later. Miles. Away. We had a memorial to celebrate her. I daydream of the woman she'd be today. And I smile with pride. Today she turns our age. Her half birthday was my birthday. And my half birthday was her birthday. And we would laugh. Because the calendar map is wrong. I miss her. I know she'd be just as obsessed with my nephew as I am. My sister and I are super close. And we were young. The three of those girls were weekend warriors. It was like Jazzy got a big sister cousin. And I got a twin cousin. We were amazing together. Always coming up with stuff. Always creating. Exploring. We knew how to be free when we were together. Weekend warriors. 80's and 90's kids. Kids playing double dutch. And that old memory game Husker Du. Hand clapped lanes. And Nintendo when we could get a turn. Learning the tootsie roll. I had a dance party in a church basement. Being at Aunt Buck's house. Having dance parties. And movie family nights. Staying up late. Soda milk. Some people call it dirty soda. But it's soda milk. Speaking watching tales from the crypt was. With my sister when maybe she was too young. Using whatever you can to lay your edges. She was always fly. Some weekends we were country mice. Some weekends we were city mice. Slick and sly in any environment. Adaptable. We'd explore and we'd strive for more. Forever curious. And longing to experience more. Longing to live full lives. We shared everything. Family secrets that will never be yours to know. We shared the good and the bad. We loved each other. And knew we always had each other's backs. Even when time and distance kept us apart. And then we almost grew up. I was working and noticed my cousin's face on TV. It was her awful mug shot. And that terrible photo of her scratched up tattoo. Terrible. And the way they were describing her. Like she had no one. It's strange. And nobody. My bestie called me immediately and told me my cousin was on the TV. And I'm not going to like how they portray her. She was right. And I had already seen it. And was more than angry. Just because someone's family doesn't want to talk to the press. Does not mean they aren't suffering extreme loss and pain. Pain and grief are different for all of us. The narrative and language regarding Jess and the other victims. Is finally starting to take a turn. But we can't unhear and unfeel the past. Until you come. Until you came around. Nobody ever questioned who is or isn't my family. The way the press has treated the victims and their families over the years. Is painful. Bringing out the worst of the worst. This will never be over. Maybe now strangers will stop trying to figure out our family. You won't get it. And quite frankly. I don't give a damn. I don't give a damn. Pureman. You fill me with so much repugence. It's suffocating. But I can't let you overtake me. And I will stand strong for my cousin and the many other victims. Including the ones you're holding onto. Like a carrot over the FBI. Because of this behavioral health study. You went from freak to clown. Better work, creep. I hope you and I believe that science and detectives will beat you to the punch. Remember when they surrounded you out of nowhere to arrest you. I love that footage. I could watch it over and over. I almost feel sorry for not publicly speaking before this. And the voices that still can't. But if ever there was a time for me to talk about Jessica Taylor. My cousin. My brave. Fun. Hilarious. Spunky. Smart. Beautiful friend. There are songs that I listen to and I can still hear. He did not just say shave your face with some of these. Then laugh. In the 80's and 90's would not have been the same without each other. And the future won't be the same without her. A million years isn't enough. Because you won't suffer for that long. You will spend the rest of your forever in prison. And it doesn't feel satisfying. Nothing will ever make this right. This kind of grief stays. Knowing you can never do it again. Does give me some comfort. Jess is always with us. [00:11:24] Speaker 5: Do you want to end up like Jessica? That is a question I heard many times as a teenager. Something spoken out of the fear of knowing what a monster is truly capable of. The answer was yes. I did want to end up like Jess. She was fierce. Kind. Compassionate. Beautiful. And intelligent. She loved every person she met better than she found them. Even if they only met for a moment. She never met a stranger. She was pure sunshine. I wish all of the time that I could know her as the woman that I am today. That I could see the woman she would have become. That I would have hugged her tighter the last time that I saw her. That she could know my son. The trips us and my sister could have had. The memories we could have continued to make. Instead, I try to remember her through the memories that I am lucky to hold on to. I pray to her and I leave flowers in memory of her. And the places that she was left behind. I fought for her when she couldn't fight. I promised her until the wheels fell off. And I never gave up. Even when it felt like I was screaming underwater. If I could say something to her murderer. I would say this. You thought you took her voice. But you didn't know that she had people who loved her. You hunted her. And I hunted you. I would say to her murderer. For someone who spent so much time perfecting his skills. You certainly were sloppy. You made a whole planning document to kill my cousin. And you couldn't even do that right. Let's go through your lists. Problems. DNA. Left it. Messed up there, huh? Supplies. Hair net. Well, so much for that. Body prep. Roof DNA. Once again. You wrote it down twice. And you still couldn't get it. And removed ID marks. Well, we know you couldn't do that. Because she was identified by the tattoo that you couldn't cut out properly. I can wrap my head around why you would kill. I can wrap my head around why you would kill. Because who would want to be around you? What I can't wrap my head around is why would the FBI even want to waste their time with you? You're boring. You're not prolific. You couldn't even be top five. You're a nobody. You didn't evade the police. Just wasn't worked properly. If the police work and the technology was the same as 2023, you would have been locked up then. You were right there the whole time, losing control while the clock ticked. I know why you did what you did to my cousin after you killed her. It's because she saw you as the huge freak that you are. I know she let you know up until the end. I know she did not go out without a fight. You chose small women because you were nothing more than a weak, disgusting coward. It makes sense how you didn't see them as human. It's kind of the same way nobody saw you as a human in high school. You tried to fit in your whole life and you never could. Your whole life was fake. All for you to perfect a craft that you couldn't perfect. You could never get it right. You could never have full control. You want to know what it is to play God? Well, you will have to face Him. Today is Jessica's birthday. She'd be turning 43 today and I would be able to make fun of her for being an old lady with my sister. When I started my fight for her, there was a piece of me who thought I could bring her back. If I got answers. While unfortunately that will never be true, I know one day I will get to hug her in heaven. I'm so grateful for this day of justice and I know she is too. I hope she's singing with the angels today and we will forever celebrate her and all of the victims with love. Happy birthday, Jess. [00:15:12] Speaker 6: Your honor in this court, nothing could have prepared me for the day that Maureen didn't come home. At first, I kept telling myself that she would call at any moment, that everything would somehow be okay. But as days turned into years, that hope slowly faded into a devastating reality. After years of searching for Maureen, my world shattered. The day my sister was found in the brambles on the side of a dark, lonely highway. She was not just murder, she was a victim of a predator, a serial killer. This was not just a murder, this was a calculated, unimaginable evil. It was a shack so profound that my mind and body could not process it. Because when Maureen was identified, it meant facing the truth that she was gone forever. And that pain is unbearable. I lived with survivor's guilt for over a decade. I replayed every moment, over and over again in my mind. Asking myself what if, what if I'd done something differently when Maureen would still be here today. That question became a weight I carried everywhere. It was constant, heavy, and painfully real. That guilt changed me. I held on to it because I believed that I had to. I told myself that if I let go, then what kind of sister would I be? I didn't allow myself to feel happiness or peace for long. Because Maureen never got that chance. Deep down, I convinced myself that somehow this was all my fault. [00:17:12] Speaker ?: Sorry. [00:17:15] Speaker 6: It has taken me years to know the truth. My actions did not cause my sister's death. The guilt is not mine to carry and never was. This burden belongs to Rex, and Rex alone. I hope he is forced to sit with the reality to feel even a fraction of the weight, the trauma, and the pain I've carried for so long. Your Honor, I would like to tell you about my sister Maureen. Maureen was a rare soul, someone you didn't come across often. She was intelligent in a way that walked beyond books. She was deeply insightful in the kind of person who would understand you with just a few minutes of conversation. Anyone who sat with her, even for five minutes, will walk away knowing how extraordinary she truly was. Maureen was there for me through every chapter of her life that she was alive to witness it. She comforted me when I was a scared child, and thunder shook the house. She was the first person I saw when I woke up from a medically induced coma on life support after a serious car crash. Standing beside me, picking cloths and dirt out of my hair, in my most vulnerable moment, she advocated for me and made sure I was cared for. She was there on her own birthday while I was being induced into labor, and my daughter was born the very next day. When I look back on my life with Maureen, I remember her as my protector, someone who loved me unconditionally. She never judged me or tried to change me. She loved me exactly as I was. If Maureen life had not been taken, I believe she would have gone on to touch countless lives in a deeply positive way. That's the kind of person she was. She was loving, selfless, and unforgettable. She had a nurturing spirit, always putting others before herself. Her kindness, her warmth, and selflessness, it left a lasting mark on everyone who knew her. She was vibrant, and she is my sister. The last words she said to me were, "I love you, I'll see you tomorrow," because she was supposed to come home from New York City. Her words never left me. They still echo in my mind. Maureen, my brother Will, and I were inseparable. But Will isn't here today. He died a year before Maureen was found. I will be his voice today. He lived and died not knowing what happened to her. He never stopped searching. He went to New York over and over, handing out her pictures, knocking on doors, chasing any lead he could find. He wrote on her MySpace, hoping she would somehow see it and come home. He wrote, "I love you, Maureen. I'll never forget you. And if you could see this, please contact me. You know, no matter what's going on, I'm here for you. I love you, Maureen." That loss never left him, but it changed him. He carried the weight of her disappearance every day, the guilt of feeling like he couldn't protect her, like he should have done more. And he carried that pain with him until the day he died. Your Honor, you see, this was not only a destruction of life. This has became a lifelong devastation of a family who's loved her. The trauma he created didn't end with me, has affected my children, is something that then passed down to children, mother to child and beyond. That is the lasting damage of his actions. Rex didn't just take my sister, he ripped her out of my life and shattered everything I thought I knew about safety, trust in the world around me. When he took her life, he destroyed mine as I knew it. There is a permanent emptiness, a wound that will never heal. I am not who I was before because of him, and I never will be again. Since Maureen's murder, this case has changed the way I see the world. What once felt normal now feels unpredictable and unsafe. My mind doesn't go to what's likely, it goes straight to the most unthinkable outcome. Every situation can spiral into fear. I overthink, I panic, and the danger I imagine feels real, like it's already happening. I've spent years trying to heal. EMDR therapy, PSD treatment, and counseling. But no matter how much work I've done, there's a wall I can't seem to break because I struggle trusting people with my story. And without trust, it feels impossible to fully heal. When Rex chose to take Maureen's life, he didn't just take her from us, he took my sense of safety. He took my peace of mind. He took the way I used to move through the world without fear. In many ways, I became one of his victims, too. I live with this every day. It's like being trapped, shackled in your own mind, imprisoned by fear, and constant fear I can't escape. But I'm here today to take back my sense of safety that was taken from me and confront my deepest fear. Rex, while you thought you'd gotten away with what you'd done, I made it my life mission to see you found and brought to justice. Without you knowing it, I became your worst nightmare. You thought you were hidden, and you thought you were smarter than anybody else, able to live in the shadows without consequence. But you were wrong. The voices of our families grew louder, our grief turned into strength, and the determination of law enforcement and this district attorney's office only testified until the truth caught up with you. I noticed a slight smile on your face when the judge spoke about corroborating with the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit. You looked proud, almost honored to be associated with something you yourself have studied, read, and studied about. But there's no honor in this. You are not going to be part of something admirable. You are going to be a subject, confined, examined, reduced to a case study. Nothing more than a cage specimen picked apart so others could understand the depth of your cruelty. Hear this clearly. Your name will never rise above the woman you stole from this world. We will not allow it. They are the ones who matter, and they are the ones who will be remembered. In the end, they will be remembered for only what you are. Small, hallow, and defined entirely by the destruction you caused. I don't know what shaped you or what pain or anger you may have carried, but I know this with certainty. It wasn't Maureen. It wasn't Melissa, Megan, Amber, Jessica, Valerie, Sandra, or Karen. They did not create the darkness inside you. They were innocent and paid the price for something that was never theirs to begin with. You are a coward who preyed on vulnerable, innocent women. You hid behind a mask, presenting yourself as normal. A father, a husband, someone people could trust. But that mask was a lie. Beneath the truth is who you are. A man without empathy, without a soul. Someone who hunted, tortured, and murdered women to satisfy the darkness within you. Over the years, we lived in the shadow of what you did. We carried the pain, the fear, the unanswered questions. But today, that changes today. You are no longer the one in control of this story. Maureen was not just a victim. She is a daughter, a sister, a mother, a woman who was loved deeply and will never be forgotten. And while you tried to silence her, you failed. You may have taken her presence, but you can never erase her voice and the memories of her. It lives on in every truth spoken, every tear shed, and every act of courage inspired by her memory. I found my strength through her voice. From the pain you caused, I feel the resilience. From the silence you tried to force, I rose louder to you. It's about more than justice. This is me stepping fully in my light after years of surviving your darkness. It's about reclaiming what you tried to break, and honoring what you can never destroy. Love. My name is Nicolette Brenard Barnes. I am the daughter of Maureen Brenard Barnes. Before we talk about the case, I'd like to talk about my mom. She was a warm, bubbly, funny, intelligent, and artistic person. Most of all, she had the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. When she would pass an unhoused person on the street, she would literally give them her last dollar. Or at least stop to acknowledge them and see how they were doing if she didn't have any money on her. She was a language arts girlie, a poet, an avid reader. She was politically outspoken, and that carried through in her writing. She loved hip-hop and R&B music and would write raps in her poetry notebooks, saying she wanted to be a rapper. She had a strong sense of humor and the most contagious laugh. She was young at heart, but she was also just young. She lived for only another few weeks past her 25th birthday. When I myself turned 25, it wasn't the joyful milestone that most young people enjoyed. It was jarring and painful because I knew that it meant I'd now lived longer than my mom did. Today, I'm nearly two years older than she will ever be. Rex Heurman stole decades of life from a woman who should still be here making memories with the people who love her. The loss of my mother and the circumstances surrounding her death have impacted me in many ways. I've had to go to years of therapy, and I've tried many different treatments and medications. I've dealt with extreme paranoia and anxiety and experienced severe PTSD. It's affected every aspect of my life. Even now that Heurman's been caught, I will never be someone who can relax because I had such overwhelming fear at such a formative age. I was only seven years old when I lost my mother, and for the next three years she was missing. I had to wonder what happened to her. The first time I remember experiencing depression in my life was my first Christmas without her. I didn't realize at the time that that's what it was, but I remember just feeling so empty and wondering why I felt so sad when it was Christmas and I had received every present I wanted. But I didn't have my mother. I was a little girl and I needed my mom. And there are moments that have yet to come when I will need her and she will not be there. People tell me how alike we are. Our mannerisms, views on things, interests, hobbies. Those seven years with her set the blueprint for who I am. My life has been immeasurably altered by the loss of my mother. There is no part of it untouched by her absence. Her death did not create a single moment of grief. It created a lifetime of them. My life is largely defined by the countless ways it could have been different if she were still here. I often think about the person I might have been if I had the chance to grow up with my mother. That question has no answer and that is part of the injustice that I live with every day. I have been shaped as much by my mother's absence as I would have been by her presence. I want to shift focus for a moment to acknowledge the investigators and members of the task force who took over this case in 2022. Throughout an unimaginably painful process made more painful by the court of public opinion slandering my mother and the other victims, they treated my family and my mother's memory with dignity, compassion, and respect. They never allowed her to become just a file or a headline. They kept the victims and our families at the center of their work. And that has meant more than I can fully express. In a case that often felt defined by stigma, they gave our family moments of humanity. My mother was not a headline, a statistic, or a label. She was not defined by one chapter of her life and she certainly was not defined by the circumstances of her death. Like every sex worker, my mom was an entire human being. When Rex Hurman took her from the world, he took someone with hopes and plans for her life. He took a mother, a daughter, an aunt, a friend. He took someone who was deeply loved and can never be replaced. He reduced vibrant women with families, personalities, dreams, humor, and histories into names on a list. But they are all far more complex, compassionate, and interesting people than he will ever be. My mother lived a real, colorful, complicated life. She loved, she struggled, she mattered, and she deserved the chance to keep living. The women he targeted were not disposable. They were deeply loved, and their absence has left permanent wounds in the lives of everyone who knew them. My mother's life had depth, warmth, humor, and meaning. The same is true for the other women whose lives he stole. Melissa Barthelemy, Megan Waterman, Amber Costello, Sandra Castilla, Karen Brigada, Valerie Mack, and Jessica Taylor. They will be remembered for who they were and how deeply they were loved. He will be remembered only for destruction. For all the attention this case has brought him, he remains the least interesting person in it. My mother and the other victims live full, complex lives that matter infinitely more than the man who cut them short. Enter Rex. I know you want the world to think you have the capacity for love and that you love those close to you, but the mask you wear does not fool me. You are a pathetic man who thinks you're better than women. You need to believe that sex workers are subhuman because you're a coward who takes out your own shortcomings on others. I feel bad for you because your capacity for hate means that you can't possibly understand love, the purity of it, the kind of love I had and still have for my mother. Seeing your last appearance and the way you smirked as you finally confessed to what you did to my mother proves that you need to be locked away for the safety of the community. There are no words extreme enough to communicate the level of depravity within you. You make me sick and I don't forgive you. [00:31:49] Speaker 7: My name is Dylan and I am the son of Maureen. When I lost her, I was just one year old. My earliest memories are defined by anxiety, fear and sadness, not knowing where she had went and why I did not have her in my life. I don't remember her voice or her face or the love she gave me as a baby. I never had my mom to see me on my first days of school. I never had her when I graduated. I never had her when I needed her and I will never have her in the future when I need her. She never got to see who I would become and she never got to play a role in shaping who I will become. The trauma of losing my mom in such a way at such a young age affected every part of my life and will continue to affect every part of my life. [00:32:31] Speaker ?: My name is Amanda and I am the sister of Melissa Bartholomey. Of course, I sort of let her under the name Chloe. [00:32:34] Speaker 8: Melissa married Bartholomey, born April 14th, 1985 in Buffalo, New York. Today if she were here, she would be 41 years old, but instead she is forever 24. Growing up, my sister was always there for me, whether it be taking care of me while my mom was at work, making me lunch, doing my hair, walking to my aunt's house, playing games, watching TV, or just sitting in silence together. She was nine years older than me, so naturally I looked up to her. She was my sister, but also like a second mom. I'd protect her and later would become my best friend. She was thoughtful and she always checked in, even when she moved to Texas with her father. She would call and check in with my mom and I. She'd send me letters with pictures she drew and she would send me a nightlight she made by hand because she knew I was terrified of the dark, which I still have to this day. I don't use it. She was a fighter for love, for family, and for a better life. She wanted to open her own hair salon one day, which made me and our family her game picks. She was a high school graduate and even went on to cosmetology school before moving to New York City. Melissa was kind-hearted to give your shirt off her bad kind, the kind that would give someone the last of her money or a place to stay if they needed. She told you like it was, even if it was to simply tell you she didn't like you. She was strong-willed, determined, ambitious, and an amazing role model. She loved to cuddle, to laugh. She loved the color baby blue, her beauty dressed, and she loved her family, including the cats. She loved music, clothes, sneakers, food, roller coasters, and a good long island iced tea. Don't get me wrong, she had her flaws. She was stubborn, she was always right, and she was selective on who she liked. As I got older, if I did something I wasn't supposed to do, she'd even tell on me like I did to her when I was a kid. She'd pick on me in the type of "I love you" way, which I acquired that trait for her. She was a little conceited, and I would always laugh at her when she was getting ready in the mirror, because she would make this face like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, which truly made me admire her confidence, so I guess that's a good thing. After my sister moved to the Bronx, I'd only get to see her once or twice a year. She'd always come home for Christmas and stay until after the New Year. And if I was lucky, I got to stay with her for the summer. I remember the last holiday I spent with Melissa, I didn't hug her goodbye, thinking I'd see her again in a few short months when I went to spend the summer with her. I remember the last time I spoke with her, she was telling me how I'd get my plane ticket from the kiosk at the airport. Not knowing that trip would never come, that next hump would never come, and that holiday would have been the last time I'd see her. She would go missing in July of 2009, about a week before I was supposed to fly out to her. And I always wonder if it would have happened if I would have been there. Would she still be here? Would she have been spared because you wouldn't have met her? Or because I would have known where she was going? But those questions don't matter because you still took her from me, from all of us. You can look at me while I'm talking. It's been about 17 years since we spoke, don't forget. We tarnished the relationship between my mother and I for a while. She was afraid for me because of you. She was afraid when I left the house that I wouldn't return. And it was also hard for her to be there for me the way I needed her to be. When she herself was fighting for my sister's life. For someone to take us seriously. Fighting for her own life and for her sanity. Thankfully we were able to reconcile that relationship. You will probably never have with your daughter. And I hope that's something that haunts you for the rest of what I hope is a very short lived life. I was forced to live with crippling anxiety, depression, PTSD, and a destroyed nervous system. I was filled with rage and sadness every single day. For a while depression had got the best of me. And so I barely ate and I cried and slept on repeat. I was afraid of people that looked at me for too long. I was mortified every time I heard a noise if I was home alone. I had to check the back of my car every time I got in. I was worried about meeting new people or being in large crowds. My heart even skipped a bit until I got a call from a blocked number. Constantly staring at my phone waiting for the next call from you. Because of the several times you had called me from my sister's phone. Telling me she was a whore. And that you raped her in the ass. And that I should have seen the look on her face when you raped her in the ass. Or how I'd ask you where she was. And you'd tell me that you were letting her body rot and that maybe one day you'd come tell me where she was. I had to repeat all of this to my mother and to countless detectives. Constantly playing these words out loud and in my head. And watching my mom grieve her baby girl was one of the most gut-wrenching things I've ever had to experience. I was always focused on the possibility of a next phone call for where my sister was so much that I couldn't even focus on school. I was 15. 15 years old. I really don't care. I was just going into 10th grade. And I never got to finish because even when I was in school my mind wasn't actually present. I was robbed of my youth. I was robbed of my young adulthood. And I still feel robbed to this day. There were so many years that I didn't want to be on this earth anymore. I would have never taken my own life. But it got to the point where I didn't care what happened to me. I simply didn't want to be here without her. [00:37:55] Speaker ?: I didn't feel safe. I didn't feel loved. [00:37:57] Speaker 8: And I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere because part of me was missing. I had the guilt that I had hidden her work from everyone because maybe if I had told my mom, just maybe she would have stopped. Melissa would have been angry with me, but that I couldn't have lived with because she'd still be here. I wonder what exactly made you think she was expendable. What made you think she didn't have anyone that loved or cared about her. After all that I endured, I still chose to fight and be resilient. [00:38:21] Speaker ?: We all did. [00:38:22] Speaker 8: We did it alone and we did it together. My family and all the other families came together as one and we fought as one. You might have taken our girls from us, but we gained each other, which clearly worked against you. There was a time I almost felt bad for you, thinking, "Wow, someone really messed up this guy." Then I reminded myself that we're all animals, we're all capable of being monsters, whether we like to it, either or not. We all have intrusive thoughts, but the difference between us and you is you. We don't act on them. You had a choice and you made the wrong one. You became nothing but a nuisance to society. Don't even bother saying that you're sorry or you couldn't help yourself because no one believes that even for a moment. It's because of you I never get to see my big sister again. Because of you I've missed out on so many memories made with her. Seeing her grow old, watching her interests change, never getting to see if she'd open a salon, if she'd have a family, if she would have moved back home, or even what her favorite song would be right now. I hope that even the thought of pizza reminds you how bad you messed up, taking away the precious lives of our loved ones, and how you've been a held accountable for your actions. And although I can't do it myself, I hope you suffer to the fullest extent at the hands of others, the way you've made our girls suffer. And I hope the word ogre, you know, the media called me an ogre, I hope that sticks with you, because that's truly what you are. A woman with unpleasant traits, a violent man, a repulsive monster, a demon, inside and out. And don't get me wrong, I'm overjoyed that you've been taken out of society, so you can't take anyone's loved ones away from them anymore. But in my eyes, justice isn't served. Our girls don't get to come back now. Justice in my eyes is our families inflicting the same pain that you inflicted on our girls and all the others, I believe, are still out there. Believe me when I say you're not the only capable person in this room. You murdered my sister, and the things I do to you are far worse than anything you've ever done to anyone, or even thought of. And just because you have a few fans, remember, you are hated by so many. I know everyone spoke on heaven, but do me a favor, save me a spot and help, and I'll see you there. [00:40:20] Speaker 9: I stand before you as the aunt of Megan Morgan, who was loved dearly for her humor, strength, and devotion to her friends and family. I'm honored to be a voice of Megan Amelia Waterman. Megan was being prostituted by King Cruz, a pimp who disguised himself as her boyfriend. And because of his trafficking of my niece, the prisoner, who sits in this courtroom today, was able to rob her of her life, and rob those who loved her from a future with her. On June 6, 2010, the prisoner not only took all of Megan's hopes and dreams, but he also shattered our family. Megan left the Holiday Inn Express in Hobbog, New York, to meet the predator who stole her from us. I'm certain my niece fought as hard as she possibly could to come back to her daughter, whom she loved with every fiber of her being. Her loss has caused immeasurable hardship for our family, medically, financially, emotionally, and this will not end when this day ends. My niece Megan was much more than a statistic, a headline, or a number in the horrific crimes committed by this prisoner. Megan was a mother, a daughter, niece, sister, and a vibrant young woman who dreamed of building a wonderful life for herself and her daughter. I have worked since 2010 seeking some form of justice for Megan's death, and today reflects the result of years of pain, perseverance, and hard work by many people. Some days are easier than others for me and my family, but we continue moving forward, hoping for the day when this kind of evil no longer exists in society. It saddens me to think that my parents who raised Megan and my sister who gave her life did not live long enough to witness what is transpiring today. It took seven agonizing months from the time Megan went missing until she was identified as one of the victims found on the beach. During that time, I spent every day wondering what was happening to her, where she was, and hoping she would come back to us. But that was not to be, because the sick individual who sits here in this courtroom had fantasized about ending her life, along with the lives of many others. Through the evidence, we have learned that this prisoner did not have a type. He simply wanted to torture and kill. His searching of child pornography, gay pornography, torture pornography, and pornography in general. The prisoner is larger in stature. Some have compared him to an ogre. When you consider the size of this man, and the fact that he searched for children and smaller stature victims, it becomes quite clear he was not a fearsome predator, but rather a cowardly opportunist. I was there the day Megan gave birth to her daughter, the same daughter who was left motherless, because the prisoner chose to take Megan's life. When Lilliana first learned her mother had died, she would walk around telling us that she was four, she didn't understand what death meant. She would tell us that her mother died of the hunger, because she was lost and couldn't find food. And then when they found her, Lilliana would ask us why the police didn't bring her home, because they found her mummy. As one of the people responsible for helping to raise Lilliana, my heart broke a million times over, because her mother was not present for the milestones, such as her first day of school, her high school graduation, her college graduation. One day my great niece will marry, and she will not have her mother by her side, to help her choose her wedding dress. The prisoner stole those moments from my great niece, the day he took her mother from us. Forever she will hurt, and forever our family will hurt, because of Megan's absence and all the milestones and life events that lie ahead. I cannot find the words to truly express how devastating Megan's loss has been to our family. The prisoners planned to erase Megan, Maureen, Melissa, Amberlynn, Jessica, Valerie, Sandra, and Karen backfired. Because it is vile and cowardly actions, our loved ones will be spoken of for years to come with love and reverence, not only by their families and friends, but by millions of people around the world who now mourn their loss. The families, friends, and supporters of these women demanded justice because their lives had meaning, purpose, and value. The justice system has spoken, and the prisoner will be banished from society for the rest of his life. He will now become the burden on the taxpayers of whichever state prison system houses him until he takes his last breath. And I am compelled to speak of the devastating re-victimizations and marginalizations that we have endured throughout this process. First, due to the corruption of the former Suffolk County District Attorney, Thomas Spokin, and the former Suffolk County Police Chief, James Burke, the very individuals who were responsible for investigating our loved ones' case, key evidence was never even looked at, so that light would not be shown on their corruption. These two vile, incorrupt men who took oaths to serve and protect, done their jobs, or at least allowed others who were more than willing to investigate, do theirs. This case would have been closed years earlier, perhaps. Second, the prisoner's ability to divest himself of assets through divorce exposes flaws in the system that deserve careful review and reform. Third, 50-cent production company G-Unit Film and Television Inc. working alongside Peacock Streaming Services to produce a docu-series that paid millions of dollars to the prisoner's ex-wife, daughter, stepson, and their attorneys is completely disgusting and inexcusable. When I read about this, I was both sickened in shock and deeply disturbed. It's important to put on record, these individuals profited from the monstrous acts committed against our loved ones by the demon sitting in this courtroom. This is the kind of world we're living in. A demon tortures and kills our loved ones, and his family gets filthy rich off his crimes. New York State, through the authority of this court, has already demonstrated the ability to advance the cause of justice by expanding the DNA threshold through the Frye hearings and decision. A decision that provided renewed hope to victims, families, just as it provided hope to our families while seeking truth and accountability. Now, New York has another opportunity to lead. For families like us, the pain of violent crime does not end with arrest or conviction. We continue to witness individuals, associates, and third parties profit or attempt to profit from the notoriety surrounding these horrific acts, through the sale of memorabilia, collectibles, and other items tied to infamous crimes and offenders. Existing Son of Sam protections were created to prevent criminals from benefiting for their crimes. Yet, loopholes remain that allow notoriety itself to be monetized. I implore members of the legislature to vote in favor of Bill A6730, which is currently before the legislature. This legislation is designed to close those loopholes and strengthen protections for victims and their loved ones. The bill is not about restricting books, documentaries, journalism, or public discussion. It's about ensuring that criminals and those connected to them cannot exploit tragedy for financial gain while families are left carrying a life-long weight of loss. This is your opportunity to stand with victims, families, and support the meaningful advancement of Bill A6730. So future families do not have to endure the same pain and indignity that we have, and countless victims' families before us have suffered. Let us not forget Asian Doe, may he be identified soon, and may justice be brought for him and his family. And let us also not forget Shannon Gilbert, whose family still seeks justice for her death. Love is the most powerful force in the world. We will continue living our best lives while remembering and celebrating Megan, Maureen, Melissa, Amberlynn, Jessica, Valerie, Sandra, and Karen with love. Like the justice system, I too am banishing the prisoner from occupying any more space in my mind as this day comes to a close. Be gone, cowardly demon. [00:50:27] Speaker 10: My name is Liliana Waterman, and I am the daughter of Megan Waterman. My mother went missing when I was just three years old. Her body was not found until I was four. She was taken from me during the most important years of my life. A little girl needs her mom. I never got the chance to know what it was like to be comforted by her after a bad day, to hear her advice, or to grow up with her guidance in love. I was not fully aware of the horrific details of what had happened until I was around nine years old. Had you tell a child that her mom was brutally murdered? I remember sitting at home in fourth grade scrolling online when I came across an article about her. That was the moment I truly understood what had happened. I remember asking my grandparents what the word prostitute, pig, meant. In an instant my world was shattered. My heart broke all over again. Questions flooded my mind. Was she in pain? Was she scared? Was she thinking of me? What were her last words? I knew she was trying to build a better life for me. Was this somehow my fault? No child should ever have to carry anything like that, any of those questions. After my mother's death, my grandparents and my aunt became my guardians. In many ways, this was not new to me because I had lived with them for most of my life. My grandmother had already raised six of her own kids. She then helped to raise my mother and my uncle, and then started over again to raise me. She gave me stability, love, and a home when my world had been turned upside down. In 2018, we lost the house we had lived in for nearly 10 years and were forced to move to a new state. Then in 2019, both of my grandparents passed away, just four months apart. By the age of 12, I had lost my mom, my nana, my papa who had raised me, and I had never known my dad. A few months later, my aunt moved me to yet another state. Within three years, I had lived in three different states, constantly trying to find a place where I felt like I belonged. I often found myself wondering, if my mother had never been murdered, would any of this have happened to me? Maybe it would have stayed in our home state. Maybe I would have grown up with more stability. Maybe I would have had the chance to come home to my mom every day. Maybe she would have given me siblings. Maybe I would have known what it felt like to have a parent sharing me on through life's milestones. Those are questions I will never have answered because of the choices made by the man who took her life. One of the hardest parts of this case has been living it publicly. For years, my mother's murder has been discussed in articles, television specials, podcasts, and across social media. There are weeks when I cannot bring myself to open any social apps because I am constantly confronted with reminders of the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I am grateful that people want to say her name and seek justice for her. But there is a difference between remembering who she was and profiting off of the tragedy that she has been through. Watching companies, networks, concept makers, and all of them make money from the pain my family has been through is very difficult. Major news companies show up at my doorstep, calling my work to get anything out of me and other people who work there answering phones. Texting me on any social site they can to make a quick buck off of my story absolutely disgusts me. While others build careers and profit from this story, my family has spent years carrying emotional, financial, and personal consequences of it. I have spent 16 mother days without my mom. I have lived thousands of days without her. I am now the same age my mom was when she was first pregnant with me, and I realize just how young she really was. I feel as though I have barely begun to understand life, yet she was denied the chance to live hers. She had hopes, dreams, and plans for the future. Nobody grows up dreaming of the circumstances she found herself in. She was a human being. She was someone's daughter, someone's friend. Most importantly, she was my mother. Every milestone in my life has been marked by her absence. She wasn't there for my first day of school. Graduations, achievements, heartbreaks, or the moments that shape me into the person I am today. Every accomplishment comes with a reminder that I cannot call her and tell her anything about it. Rex Hiraman did not just take my mother's life. He stole an entire lifetime of memories that me and her never got to make. He took away birthdays, holidays, conversations, hugs, advice, and every future moment a mother and daughter should have shared. The damage he caused extends far beyond the day he made this crime. His actions changed the course of my life forever. They devastated my family, but they also shattered the lives of his own family, who now must live with the knowledge that they shared a home with a serial killer. He is calculated, manipulative, remorseless, and a heartless man. The pain he caused cannot be measured, and the lives he destroyed cannot be restored. He deserves to spend the rest of his life behind bars. For so many years, this case has been a weight I carried every single day. A burden of unanswered questions, grief, and a sense that justice has not been served. Constantly having a look over my shoulder, making sure nobody was following me, or trying to see where I was headed to. Today's proceedings do not erase what happened, and they do not bring her back. Nothing ever will. But today brings accountability. Today brings a measure of justice that has been decades in the making. While my mother was robbed of her future, I stand here to make sure her voice is heard. I will continue to live for her and spread the light that Rex Heerman tried to take from her. My mother mattered. She was loved. She was more than a headline, more than a victim, more than a case number, and she deserved so much better. [00:56:57] Speaker 11: This is the victim impact statement of Ruth Catherine Ramos. To the Honorable Judge Timothy P. Mazie, my name is Ruth Ramos, and I am the sister of Sandra Castilla. We thank your honor for allowing us, alongside the other grieving families, to address the court today, regarding the profound impact the loss of mothers, daughters, and sisters has had on our lives. Receiving the news about my sister, and the manner in which she was discovered, is a level of devastation from which we will never fully recover. Today is a deeply meaningful and long awaited day, not only for Sandra's family, but for the other victims' families. Amber, Valerie, Karen, Jessica, Maureen, Melissa, and Megan. It was always my hope that the person responsible for destroying our family, and the families of so many, would someday be held fully accountable, and that day is here. While justice cannot bring Amber, Valerie, Karen, Jessica, Maureen, Melissa, Megan, and Sandra back, it ensures they are no longer forgotten, and brings our families peace, knowing that the person responsible for our irreversible pain can never harm anyone else. We had feared this day would never happen. However, the Suffolk County District Attorney's Office proved us wrong. This day would never have been possible without the tireless dedication of the task force with the District Attorney's Office, and I would like to specifically comment on District Attorney Raymond Tierney for his relentless pursuit of justice and leadership. The persistence and diligence shown by this team are truly commendable. We thought this was a lost case, but they proved otherwise. We are incredibly grateful to everyone who worked on this investigation, paid meticulous attention to detail, and demonstrated such deep care for the families experiencing such a horrible tragedy and loss. We cannot say enough thanks to all the participants. We know this. Sondra was a beautiful, intelligent young woman with endless potential. Her life changed completely when she had her son, Zach. He was the center of her world, and Sondra cherished every moment of being a mother. While our lives were permanently altered that day, the greatest loss was one experienced by Zach. Losing his mother at such a young age is an unimaginable hardship that has robbed him of her guidance and her love, and one that no child should ever have to endure. Zach grew up never knowing her, and the loss has had an irreversible impact on his life, and has caused significant emotional distress throughout his life. As this long journey to find justice for Sondra, Amber, Valerie, Karen, Jessica, Maureen, Melissa, and Megan comes to a close, my heart is with all the families, and it is my deepest hope that their loved ones will find peace and will honor their lives by living their best lives. And may the children left behind carry on a beautiful legacy of their mothers, respectfully submitted Ruth Ramos. Your Honor, that concludes the victim impact portion of the proceedings.