Defense lawyers and prosecutors agree -- Leo Boatman's upbringing was 'uniquely awful.'
Stephen Hudak
Sentinel Staff Writer
August 4, 2007
OCALABorn in a psychiatric hospital. Orphaned at age 8 by a mother who drowned drunk in a ditch. Abused by a grandmother. Molested in foster care.
"I have never in my life seen someone who was forced to fend more for himself from almost literally the time he came into the world than Leo Boatman," Chief Assistant Public Defender Bill Miller said, recounting the childhood of the dishwasher who pleaded guilty Monday to killing two campers in the Ocala National Forest. "His life started off bad and only got worse."
Boatman's heartbreaking life does not excuse his senseless crimes, but it may help explain what made him a killer, Assistant State Attorney Rock Hooker said.
He, too, described Boatman's wretched boyhood, chronicled in court documents, as "uniquely awful" among killers he has prosecuted during the past 21 years.
Boatman, 21, was spared the death penalty because the families of his victims, Amber Peck and John Parker, signed off on a plea agreement that was negotiated by prosecutors and defense lawyers. The accord substituted two life terms in prison without parole for lethal injection.
The families were permitted to review a 14-page appeal for "mitigation" -- or mercy -- drafted by defense lawyers who researched Boatman's life.
"Where was the village raising this soul who decided John's and my fate," asked Glenda Peck, 62, reading from a letter that she had written in the voice of her slain daughter, Amber.
After Boatman's plea, prosecutors released the mitigation document and other previously sealed materials that detailed the slaying of the two Santa Fe Community College students. Peck and Parker, both 26, were shot to death Jan. 4, 2006, at Hidden Pond, a remote camp site near the Juniper Springs Recreation Area in the forest.
'Abused, neglected'
Lawyers for killers facing the death penalty often cite a shabby childhood, abusive or absent parents, and drug addiction as contributing forces in their clients' capital crimes.
"But Leo's case goes far beyond that," Miller said. "He would have been better off if he had been raised by wolves. Wolves would have been more nurturing."
The mitigation document, which refers to confidential records of the Florida Department of Children and Families, said Boatman's mother "abused, neglected and abandoned him repeatedly until her death." His father's identity is unknown, though family members think Sheila Boatman became pregnant with her son while she was a patient in the psychiatric hospital.
The burden of raising the boy often fell upon his grandmother in Pinellas County, Ethel Lucille Boatman, who officially adopted him and his older sister, Rosezilla, in 1991. The grandmother, who had six children with six different fathers, preferred her granddaughter to her grandson and often returned the toddler boy to his derelict mother, Miller said.
Anonymous complaints to DCF said the toddler roamed in traffic and he seldom was dressed in anything but underwear, according to investigators who frequently found his mother drunk or high.
Boatman was 8 when his mother, Sheila, died in 1995, falling into a ditch in Jefferson City, Mo., where she drowned. She was hitchhiking home to Clearwater.
He then lived in a series of foster homes where the 4-foot-8, 80-pound boy was deemed impossible to handle.
'Don't go underneath'
An uncle told authorities, "Oh, he's such a cute kid, you know, like Home Alone, like cute on the surface, but don't go underneath."
He was described as a delinquent at age 9, and by 12, he was committed to a juvenile prison.
Juvenile records show he was incarcerated for breaking into a city utilities office in St. Petersburg where he discharged fire extinguishers and dumped ink on the carpet; vandalizing a church-school bus; and stealing from his grandmother.
He spent the next seven years in the custody of the Department of Juvenile Justice, steadily climbing the security-risk ladder.
Records show that while Boatman was in Sago Palm Academy, a youth facility, he head-butted a teacher in a dispute over a test grade; tried to slug a pregnant case manager in the belly; and was caught having sex with another boy.
Miller said Boatman acted up in custody because he didn't want to go "home" -- wherever DCF would decide that to be.
His lone visitor while locked up was his grandmother, who suddenly stopped coming in 2002. She had died of cancer, but no one told Boatman, Miller said.
He was released from Omega Juvenile Prison, a maximum-security facility in Manatee County, in August 2005, less than five months before the murders.
"Youth Boatman has always been very intelligent which he used in a negative way through manipulation of rules and the program in general," an exit summary noted. "Youth has shown over the last six months that he can do better if he puts his mind to it."
He moved in with his uncle Victor Boatman, 40, a convicted sex offender who helped him get a job as a dishwasher at Hooters.
An aunt, Regina Arledge, 48, a real-estate broker in Colorado, said the family did what they could for her nephew but that he seemed lost from the start.
"I hate to say he hasn't any moral compass, but obviously he doesn't," she said.
Boatman could not be interviewed for this story. He is a temporary inmate at the state's Reception and Medical Center in Lake Butler and cannot consent to an interview until he is assigned and moved to a permanent facility.
Stephen Hudak can be reached at shudak@orlandosentinel.com or 352-742-5930.
Stephen Hudak
Sentinel Staff Writer
August 4, 2007
OCALABorn in a psychiatric hospital. Orphaned at age 8 by a mother who drowned drunk in a ditch. Abused by a grandmother. Molested in foster care.
"I have never in my life seen someone who was forced to fend more for himself from almost literally the time he came into the world than Leo Boatman," Chief Assistant Public Defender Bill Miller said, recounting the childhood of the dishwasher who pleaded guilty Monday to killing two campers in the Ocala National Forest. "His life started off bad and only got worse."
Boatman's heartbreaking life does not excuse his senseless crimes, but it may help explain what made him a killer, Assistant State Attorney Rock Hooker said.
He, too, described Boatman's wretched boyhood, chronicled in court documents, as "uniquely awful" among killers he has prosecuted during the past 21 years.
Boatman, 21, was spared the death penalty because the families of his victims, Amber Peck and John Parker, signed off on a plea agreement that was negotiated by prosecutors and defense lawyers. The accord substituted two life terms in prison without parole for lethal injection.
The families were permitted to review a 14-page appeal for "mitigation" -- or mercy -- drafted by defense lawyers who researched Boatman's life.
"Where was the village raising this soul who decided John's and my fate," asked Glenda Peck, 62, reading from a letter that she had written in the voice of her slain daughter, Amber.
After Boatman's plea, prosecutors released the mitigation document and other previously sealed materials that detailed the slaying of the two Santa Fe Community College students. Peck and Parker, both 26, were shot to death Jan. 4, 2006, at Hidden Pond, a remote camp site near the Juniper Springs Recreation Area in the forest.
'Abused, neglected'
Lawyers for killers facing the death penalty often cite a shabby childhood, abusive or absent parents, and drug addiction as contributing forces in their clients' capital crimes.
"But Leo's case goes far beyond that," Miller said. "He would have been better off if he had been raised by wolves. Wolves would have been more nurturing."
The mitigation document, which refers to confidential records of the Florida Department of Children and Families, said Boatman's mother "abused, neglected and abandoned him repeatedly until her death." His father's identity is unknown, though family members think Sheila Boatman became pregnant with her son while she was a patient in the psychiatric hospital.
The burden of raising the boy often fell upon his grandmother in Pinellas County, Ethel Lucille Boatman, who officially adopted him and his older sister, Rosezilla, in 1991. The grandmother, who had six children with six different fathers, preferred her granddaughter to her grandson and often returned the toddler boy to his derelict mother, Miller said.
Anonymous complaints to DCF said the toddler roamed in traffic and he seldom was dressed in anything but underwear, according to investigators who frequently found his mother drunk or high.
Boatman was 8 when his mother, Sheila, died in 1995, falling into a ditch in Jefferson City, Mo., where she drowned. She was hitchhiking home to Clearwater.
He then lived in a series of foster homes where the 4-foot-8, 80-pound boy was deemed impossible to handle.
'Don't go underneath'
An uncle told authorities, "Oh, he's such a cute kid, you know, like Home Alone, like cute on the surface, but don't go underneath."
He was described as a delinquent at age 9, and by 12, he was committed to a juvenile prison.
Juvenile records show he was incarcerated for breaking into a city utilities office in St. Petersburg where he discharged fire extinguishers and dumped ink on the carpet; vandalizing a church-school bus; and stealing from his grandmother.
He spent the next seven years in the custody of the Department of Juvenile Justice, steadily climbing the security-risk ladder.
Records show that while Boatman was in Sago Palm Academy, a youth facility, he head-butted a teacher in a dispute over a test grade; tried to slug a pregnant case manager in the belly; and was caught having sex with another boy.
Miller said Boatman acted up in custody because he didn't want to go "home" -- wherever DCF would decide that to be.
His lone visitor while locked up was his grandmother, who suddenly stopped coming in 2002. She had died of cancer, but no one told Boatman, Miller said.
He was released from Omega Juvenile Prison, a maximum-security facility in Manatee County, in August 2005, less than five months before the murders.
"Youth Boatman has always been very intelligent which he used in a negative way through manipulation of rules and the program in general," an exit summary noted. "Youth has shown over the last six months that he can do better if he puts his mind to it."
He moved in with his uncle Victor Boatman, 40, a convicted sex offender who helped him get a job as a dishwasher at Hooters.
An aunt, Regina Arledge, 48, a real-estate broker in Colorado, said the family did what they could for her nephew but that he seemed lost from the start.
"I hate to say he hasn't any moral compass, but obviously he doesn't," she said.
Boatman could not be interviewed for this story. He is a temporary inmate at the state's Reception and Medical Center in Lake Butler and cannot consent to an interview until he is assigned and moved to a permanent facility.
Stephen Hudak can be reached at shudak@orlandosentinel.com or 352-742-5930.
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