The story reported in the media, and largely presented at trial, was a simple one. Shepard was in the Fireside Lounge in Laramie, Wyoming, when he met two young men, Aaron McKinney and Russell Henderson. Supposedly Shepard told these strangers he was gay. They left the bar with him, then pistol whipped and tortured him, and left him to die tied up to a fence at the end of town. They allegedly did this because Shepard was gay. McKinney at one point even used a “gay panic defense,” asserting that he had been so shocked by Shepard’s alleged sexual advances, he was somehow not culpable.
But McKinney and Shepard were not strangers. They had many friends in common, and had socialized with each other. And they had an even deeper history. Both were dealing (and using) methamphetamine, and as such were business rivals. McKinney was also bisexual, and had had sexual relations with Shepard.
How did the facts of this case become so distorted? Partly because a courtroom is not a venue for ascertaining truth. Prosecutors present facts designed to lead the jury to convict (rather than to tell a complete tale), and defense lawyers present cases designed to leave their client as intact as possible (either hoping for an acquittal or the shortest sentence possible). But in this case, there were additional forces at play. People involved in the drug-dealing world who might have shed some light on what had transpired had a motive for keeping quiet, or concocting other stories: self-preservation, fear of being labeled a “snitch.” And the press immediately jumped on — and continued playing up — the hate crime angle. It fit. Anti-bigotry groups, relying on media and other reports, used the case to underscore the danger of homophobia and hate crimes.
Those dangers remain real, including the continuation of violent attacks on people because they are gay, despite the progress on other fronts, such as gay marriage.
