Games and delays are finally over for all in tot's death

The Boston Herald

Beverly Beckham

The mood was different Thursday. The defense was contrite instead of confrontational. The game was over. No more winning through intimidation. No more delays and distortions. No more referring to the Oct. 16, 1990, death of 22-month-old Todd Slocum as "an incident which is said to have occurred."

Last month, Robert Donahue pleaded guilty in Middlesex Superior Court to manslaughter, motor vehicle homicide, operating under the influence of alcohol and operating to endanger. One would like to believe that Donahue admitted his guilt, however belatedly, to ease his conscience.

But conscience isn't a part of this game. The simple fact is Donahue lacked a defense. He had been drinking. He had admitted this to police. He did back out of his driveway, across a street, over a curb, into a fence and over Todd Slocum, killing the toddler, who'd been playing on his baby sitter's lawn.

Donahue's attorney, Al Johnson, tried for nearly two years to twist the truth and save his client from going to jail. Johnson postured and postponed, asked the court for a change of venue, asked to have the case dismissed, accused the prosecution of unprofessional conduct and complained that his client wouldn't be able to get a fair trial if a jury had to listen to "heart-wrenching" testimony from the dead boy's mother.

The judge bought none of this. He set a date for a trial. It was only THEN that Donahue decided to plead guilty.

On Thursday, nearly two years after Todd's death, Donahue was finally sentenced for his crime.

The prosecution, before the sentencing, reminded the court that "Robert Donahue chose to drive that afternoon," and that "Todd Slocum's death was not an accident." Assistant District Attorney Martha Coakley asked that Donahue be sentenced to no fewer than 18 years and no more than 20: "Unless this court imposes a significant sentence it will not ensure that this won't be repeated."

Todd's mother spoke - about the agony of being a childless parent, about a life empty of joy and hope and laughter, empty of everything except pain.

Al Johnson talked, but he still did not refer to Todd by name. Todd was the "one who died." Todd was "a child." "We have all suffered enough," Johnson said, seeking compassion for his client. The words rang hollow. Then Robert Donahue stood and spoke.

"I knew my life would never be the same," he whispered, his head bowed. "But I never knew my family would suffer. I pray that my family and the Slocum family will forgive me."

Family and friends of the Slocums and the Donahues wept.

Other parents of children killed by drunken drivers relived their loss.

Every bit of this - the pain, the tears, the agony, the anger, the despair - was preventable. Todd's death, the trial, the sentencing, should never have happened.

Donahue served in the Korean War. He was a police officer for 29 years. He is a husband and father. HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER. The public sees this man taken away from his family, locked up behind bars and thinks: poor guy.

Isn't it a shame.

And it is a shame. But the public should remember that Donahue CHOSE to drink and drive. Donahue CAUSED this pain.

He's been walking around free, living, loving, even driving, for almost two years. And all the while Todd has been dead.

In two and a half years, when Donahue gets out of jail (he was sentenced to serve four years but will get time off for good behavior), Todd will still be dead. That's what people forget. That a life has been erased. That a lifetime - 70, 80, maybe 90 years - has been stolen.

"The commonwealth realizes that no one will leave this courtroom happy," the prosecutor told the court last Thursday. And no one did.

The game is over, but nobody won.