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Authors: Buried Memories: Katie Beers' Story

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What’s next for Katie? She’s survived, but can she ever recover?

In Bay Shore, Carolyn Gusoff reporting.

MAKEOVER

The press was not kind to Marilyn. A
Post
headline was especially pitiless: “Disgusting Marilyn Beers” a big woman with bad teeth.
21
Mike McAlary, the acerbic Pulitzer Prize winning columnist, had a New York way of seeing it and saying it straight:

She is a sad figure, really. But then you remember that this woman gave up her child to a house run by an admitted pedophile, Sal Inghilleri. She lost two children to the deranged lust of John Esposito. On occasion, Beers sent her own kid out into the cold with bare feet....No one can save Katie Beers from her first ten years. But we should be damned as a society if Katie Beers is returned to this loutish lot.

So when Marilyn initially signed over temporary custody of Katie to Suffolk County then changed her mind the next day, there was no one, at first, volunteering to walk her through the mine field that was Suffolk Family Court. No one but John Jiras. Tall, white-haired and sixty-something, Jiras began his career as a TV and film makeup artist but decided, ten years into his chosen vocation, to attend law school. After earning a name in Hamptons’ homicide cases, he was referred to Marilyn by her psychic, John Monti. He took the case with gusto.

“All future questions about Katie should go through my office,” he instructed reporters on the first day Marilyn appeared in Family Court to attempt to win back custody of her daughter.

The jockeying for Katie’s custody had actually begun in earnest days earlier, on the talk show circuit. Linda had no legal standing in the tug of war, so instead, she made her case via satellite on
The Montel Williams Show
.

“To me, there is no difference between John Esposito and Marilyn Beers,” she said, as the audience raucously stood and cheered. “They both have claimed to love (Katie) but in a sick way. John had her living
under
a garage and Marilyn had her living
in
a garage. But Katie and I have shared a
real
love, a
real
home, and
real
tears to be together forever.”

Marilyn, who appeared live in the studio, admitted on national television that she didn’t know the identity of Katie’s father. “So crucify me.” The jeering crowd nearly did just that.

Linda’s argument may have gone over with daytime talk show addicts, but in court, it was only Katie’s biological mother who could stake a claim to custody. And the stake was planted, albeit tenuously, in Suffolk Family Court on January 21, 1993.

Ms. Beers, are you willing to let Katie stay in foster care?

Are you satisfied with the arrangements?

How often will you get to see your daughter?

Ms. Beers?

Tony back peddled and I stuck a mini recorder under Marilyn’s chin as she walked into court, Little John’s father, Teddy Rodriguez, on her side, lips clenched. Not even a hello.

Reporters were allowed into the proceeding but had to leave video cameras outside, so when the brief session ended, we catapulted out of our seats, beat the lawyers outside by hustling down staircases and waited in a pack in the only part of Family Court’s exterior that is not an arctic wind tunnel—steps from the revolving front doors.

“You got it all inside. What else do you need?” Anthony DiSanti, a young county attorney assigned as Katie’s law guardian, asked. “The case was put off until February 11
th
and there is an agreement between all parties.”

What’s the agreement?

“Can’t tell you. That’s part of the agreement. I can’t tell you any more.”

What are the allegations against Marilyn Beers? On what grounds can the County take Katie away?

“Can’t tell ya.”

A passing attorney muttered something about there being a letter “N” on the docket number, indicating an allegation of neglect or abuse.

But Katie stays in foster care?

“Yes the child is in foster care.”

And Marilyn can come back at any time and request custody?

“Yes, she can request that.”

It was actually quite a bit of usable sound-on-tape for a no comment.

Marilyn came out next.

C’mon guys, down in front, make room for Marilyn.

Marilyn, are you giving up custody of Katie?

Jiras, who stood beside her, cut in.

“We are not here to make a statement. I’m here and the Suffolk County attorney is here,” he said, gesturing to Jeffrey Adolf, who made the common mistake in the legal community of exiting the courthouse in the bitter cold sans winter coat and going slowly numb as reporters’ questions dragged on.

Adolf added, “The law prevents us from discussing the contents of any information contained in court documents…”

But what about the allegations of neglect against Marilyn
….?

“Can I please finish? A child protective petition,” he explained, “alleges neglect, abuse or both. Can’t tell you which of those, but it’s one of them.”

What the lawyers did reveal was that the county and Marilyn had agreed to the following: supervised visitation with Katie three times per week and that the matter would be revisited by the court in three weeks. Additionally, both Marilyn and Katie, now referred to in court as Katherine, would undergo psychological evaluation.

Jiras didn’t even try to hide his motivation. Rumors were swirling about big money movie deals with the networks. The county had floated the idea of assigning a legal property guardian to manage the piles of money that were sure to come Katie’s way. Marilyn agreed to a county money manager for Katie, saying she wasn’t interested in the inevitable riches; she only wanted her daughter back. But Jiras, by all accounts, was pushing Marilyn to sign over the rights to her story to movie producers. He reportedly turned down a three hundred and fifty thousand dollar offer for the rights to Marilyn’s side of the story, insisting on a million dollar movie deal.
22
No one believed Marilyn could make a dime off of her perspective, except perhaps Jiras.

Do you expect to sell Katie’s story for big money?

“Is the Pope Catholic?” he quipped.

If it was supposed to get a laugh, no one in the tight circle of journalists huddled around him cracked a smile. McAlary wrote in his
Post
column the next day, “after that remark, I promised Jiras, ‘You sir, are a dead man.’”
23

It was the last time Jiras would represent Marilyn in court. Even she could recognize a public relations disaster. “I’d rather be poor and have my daughter.”
24

Eight years later, Jiras was crossing Main Street in East Hampton, on his way to meet a friend for dinner at Sam’s, the “Cheers” of the East End. It was dark out and he may not have seen the Nissan heading south. The driver told police she just couldn’t stop in time. Jiras didn’t make it. None of the anticipated riches for Marilyn or Katie materialized either.

Meanwhile, any mystery about exactly what kind of home Katie was living in was solved by the Suffolk County Sheriff who volunteered to reporters that Katie’s foster father was a long time sheriff’s deputy and decorated Vietnam veteran and her foster mother, a homemaker with four other children who was herself adopted as a child.
25
And the principal of Katie’s new school gave interviews out on the front lawn. Peter Lisi said Katie was doing very well.

“If folks would just leave her alone, she would be on the road to recovery.”

The three weeks passed and we were all back at Family Court outside staking out arrivals. This one, though, was not anticipated. Wheeled up the walkway of the sprawling modern courthouse was Linda, pushed by her mother, Ann Butler. Linda was uncharacteristically cold to reporters to whom she had poured out her heart in the previous month. She stared ahead, as if camera crews tracking her ride were invisible. Instead, a tall blond man toting a legal briefcase answered for her, but continued to walk with purpose.

“We are just here,” George Harkin said, “as interested observers.”

This time, Judge James F.X. Doyle granted the media’s application to videotape the proceeding. It was rare for Family Court to be open to the public, much less news cameras, but the judge’s ruling mentioned something about the fact that everyone already knew the parties involved, Katie’s identity was no secret, so any privacy issue was moot. And the public could use a lesson in the workings of Family Court.

A heavy-set neatly dressed woman entered Judge Doyle’s courtroom and sat down at the defense table. She had a shoulder-length perm with bangs reaching to the top of her aviator glasses, and wore a neat black blazer. Marilyn Beers had undergone a complete beauty makeover.

She had done more than lop off a foot of hair. She had cleaned up her Mastic Beach garage apartment too. The day before, she invited news crews in to show off her squeaky clean digs. The dirty dishes were gone; the floors were mopped and cleared of the piles of magazines, beer cases and trash.

But the upgrade in appearance did little to change the custody arrangement. More visitation was requested but denied. Disanti, who represented Katie, told the judge he would side with the request for more visitation, but the judge was not moved.

Linda positioned herself on a bench in the back of the courtroom. Harkin had filed a motion for custody, but the judge would not allow it to be heard in court.

Outside, Disanti again, was the first to emerge.

How is Katherine feeling?

“She’s in good spirits; she is in a very good foster home. But she loves her mother very much.”

Does she have a preference?

Where does Katherine want to live?

“She has indicated to me her desire; that is all I’m going to say.”

Linda came out with a scowl and no comment. Ann, who held a cigarette between her teeth, opened the front passenger seat for Linda, bumped into a cameraman and barked, “Hey, want me to get you for damages to my car?”

Linda was caught in the camera frame of a dozen news crews and couldn’t escape as Ann hurried to remove the wheelchair legs.

Were you here to make your own custody petition? Did you get to do that?

Nothing.

Linda, if Katherine is watching this, is there anything that you’d like to say to her?

With that, Ann slung a purple wind breaker over the passenger side window, blocking the cameras’ view as Linda propped herself into the car looking more dejected than usual. After the car sped off, Harkin stuck around.

“She is seeking custody of Katherine. The Court would not hear her application at this time. Certainly she is disappointed.”

Marilyn’s new attorney, a short blond with a perky bob, was more upbeat and optimistic.

“She wants custody of her child and she is willing to do whatever it takes to create the least pain for this child that has already had enough pain,” Andrea Lannak said.

“We are working toward gaining their reuniting. It’s our understanding that Katie wants to be with the mother.”

Is Marilyn happy with the visitation?

“Marilyn Beers will not be happy until she is with her daughter.”

Are you concerned with Linda Inghilleri’s claim for custody?

“No, not at all. I don’t know why you all keep giving Mrs. Inghilleri so much notice. She is in no position to be applying for custody of this child. Nor is she capable. I don’t even think it needs to be addressed.”

She claims she raised her.

“People claim all kinds of things.”

Adolf, refusing to offer specifics, managed to give just enough to confirm the case against Marilyn wasn’t going away.

Will the county pursue its neglect case against Marilyn?

“The case is continued till March 1. It’s continuing. It never stopped.”

March 1
st
came as did new charges that Marilyn was an unfit mother. The assistant county attorney revealed in court that Suffolk was now not only seeking to take Katie away from Marilyn, but also had a neglect petition against her for failing to send John Beers to school. And Katie, Judge Doyle said, would be taken away permanently if the county could prove she would be in imminent danger to her life or health if she were to stay with Marilyn. The motion for permanent removal would be argued in a full blown trial in eight days. With tears in her eyes, Marilyn bit her lip and walked out of court, navigating her way through adjacent District Court, ducking out on the waiting cameras.

Frustration over having missed a key interview was short-lived. Lenny Kostas, a stringer photographer, was helping Marilyn out with her
image and stood before the microphones fielding a barrage of questions. Marilyn, he told the gathered press, was seeing a therapist to turn her life around. She was stunned, he said, that she was being accused of failing both of her children.

Eight days later, Marilyn’s prospects were even worse. Suffolk was now formally accusing Marilyn of allowing Katie to be abused by both John Esposito and Sal Inghilleri. Kostas, again speaking on Marilyn’s behalf, held several pages of handwritten notes. He read, often interrupted, what he said was a statement from Marilyn. But he prefaced it with some words of his own.

“Every time she says something, it is misconstrued or twisted and it causes the public to form a false judgment about her. This is a very high profile case and every time a rumor or hearsay is reported, it’s almost construed as fact by the general public and, even though it’s proven false down the road, they remember that rumor or allegation. They believe what they read in the papers. When you are reporting, remember that a ten-year-old child is watching everything that’s going on. And that’s her mom you are talking about. She loves her mom. She wants to be home with her mom right now. She doesn’t want to see her mom on television being crucified. …”

The gathering of reporters bristled at the suggestion.

What have we reported that’s not true?

Didn’t she allow her daughter to go to Linda’s with Sal in the house?

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