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New: Full Victim Impact Statement From Jane Doe #1 aka Jen B In Danny Masterson Trial
I am publishing the complete statement because it's so harrowing and detailed, and I think everyone needs to read it to understand what Danny Masterson and Scientology put these women through.
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At the sentencing of Danny Masterson last week, three of the women who Masterson raped read impact victim statements before a California judge sentenced him.
I just obtained the statement of Jane Doe #1, aka Jen B, and I am publishing it here in full without any edits.
I wouldn’t usually publish such a lengthy statement, but I believe her words are crucial for people to understand what these women were put through and to give some insight into how Scientology operates.
I have known Jen for six years and have spent hundreds of hours on the phone with her. From the first time we spoke, I believed her—the evidence she had made her case even more believable.
The same can be said of all the women who Masterson raped whom I spoke to. All of their accounts are harrowing, devastating, and credible.
I should note that Jen mentions Masterson’s co-star without naming him in this statement.
She was referring to Ashton Kutcher.
Given the length of her statement, if you’re reading this via email, you may need to read the web version of this story as it may get cut off.
Here is Jen’s full statement without any edits:
Good Morning, Your Honor.
Thank you for giving us this time today. Thank you for letting me read this and allowing me to hear from my fellow survivors.
Twenty years. I was raped 20 years ago on my father's 55th birthday, April 25th, 2003.
I loved my father very much, and I still recall the last time I spoke to him and what he said. It was August 13th, 2010, my birthday. And he called to wish me a happy birthday, and the last thing we said to each other was, "I love you."
He passed away that weekend. I also recall the last time I heard from my mother and what her last words to me were. It was February 2020, she texted me and told me to never contact her again. She had warned me ahead of time she wanted to see Danny Masterson brought to justice for raping me but not at the expense of her religion, their religion, Scientology.
She explained clearly in texts that she was coordinating with her Scientology handlers and their legal department and she would happily cooperate and testify here in this court, but Scientology was not to be dragged into it. She had firm rules, and I had to choose between cooperating fully with law enforcement and the courts or shielding Scientology and keeping my mother in my life.
To my knowledge, my mom is still alive but not in my life because the defendant raped me and I reported him to the police. That is strictly forbidden in Scientology. It is considered a high crime. And this past nearly seven years after my case was reopened from my 2004 original police report, I fully cooperated in the investigations of the multiple rapes and victims that he was ultimately charged and convicted for.
I have a letter from my mother's where she wrote to the leader of the Church of Scientology, David Miscavige, and demanded justice for me. Even if it was just the Scientology version of it, a different version of justice. I sometimes read what she wrote back then while I was still in the good graces of Scientology, back when I mattered. She loved me then, I think. She seemed to care what happened to her daughter. I read it sometimes on Mother’s Day or times just to remember how it felt to have a mom. I didn't choose to be born into Scientology and their rules, just as I didn't choose to be raped by Danny Masterson. I'm going to read a portion later for a different reason. Unlike the defense's attempt to have my case dismissed before the trial based on a letter filed in this court from one of Danny's best friends, a letter that was not signed, was utterly unverifiable, this man had passed away nearly 20 years ago.
This letter that I will read later was forensically authenticated along with the metadata showing that my mother had written it from her login. This letter was verified as authored and unaltered since March of 2004 when it was written and sent to David Miscavige. I know this letter was written by her as she showed it to me after she sent it in 2004 so I wouldn't get in trouble with Scientology for helping her to write it.
I became acquainted with the defendant, Mr. Masterson, through the church that we were both members of- Scientology. I was born into it, and Mr. Masterson and I were what is commonly referred to as second generation scientologists. Our families knew one another. We attended parties, barbecues at his parents' house or my parents' house or his home. We shared mutual friends, many of whom I had to walk by in the hall not just today but at every attempted arraignment, every day of trial. I'm not going to speak about their behavior. I understand the code in Scientology. I understand the devotion that this celebrity, as he was considered, can garner in that religion.
We both went to Scientology schools as kids. It was the only community I knew my whole life until I was raped by Mr. Masterson. April 24th, 2003, I worked half a day, picked up my daughter from her school carpool, dropped her off at my parents' house. I then packed an overnight bag and went to my friend Brie Shaffer's house. She was Mr. Masterson's assistant and a Scientologist. I got to Brie's house around 5:00 PM. And sometime after midnight, so April 25th officially, I would end up being raped by her boss. After being drugged and raped and then waking up, I got dressed.
I still don't recall what I wore out the door, Mr Cohen. But I do know one thing you didn't ask me… I never could find my underwear. I know this because when I got home, I didn't have any on. And I remember being upset and embarrassed about The idea that my underwear were somewhere at Danny's house. At some point, I recall making it downstairs that day to the exit of his house- to that front patio. I saw Luke Watson, Danny’s best friend. Luke ordered me to report straight to the Scientology Celebrity Center International, to Susan. She was both the president of the celebrity Center and Luke Watson’s mother. Luke told me that Danny had been to Celebrity Center that morning. They were expecting me. Luke wouldn't speak or help me, even as I begged him. He just kept repeating the demand that I report to the President's office at Celebrity Center.
I did not comply and, instead, rushed to where I had left my car at Brie's and then to my parents' house as fast as I could. That's all I could think about. That was my home. I was safe there. My parents were probably very worried. I should have been home hours before. I remember getting home sometime in the afternoon of April 25th, my dad's birthday. We had our big annual family trip to celebrate him. That was our tradition, and that entailed my parents flying about 12 of us to Florida to spend the week of his birthday at his favorite hotel. I recall getting home after Danny’s house and slumping into the first chair I encountered. I was home. I wanted to be safe. I was in a daze. I stared into space for a long time.
My mother was in a frenzy. There were about a dozen people, mostly family, coming in and out of the house. I just stared into space. I managed to get to the airport with my family that night and make our flight. That was a painful five hours as I sat on the plane, my hair still smelling of vomit. And the smell of vomit can remind me of it to this day. I guess Danny hadn't been very thorough when he attempted to shower the vomit off of me before raping me. I never even packed my bag for that week-long vacation. And, instead, I wore my mother's clothes all that week. Yes, that was her bathing suit that I was wearing in the photos that the defense blew up and paraded in front of the jury saying, look at this girl in the bikini with the drink in her hands, smiling. Clearly, she wanted it. Clearly, she is a party girl. Clearly, she wasn't raped.
Well, in fact, that girl in that photo was wearing her mother's borrowed bathing suit, drinking an iced coffee and wondering how she was going to hide the fact that she was just raped from her family, that she was just raped by a fellow member of Scientology, the Church who proclaims its members to be the most ethical people on the planet.
When we returned to Los Angeles a week later, I reported what Danny did to me to my Church, just as their strict policies demanded and I was trained to do. And I followed these kinds of rules and policies my whole life. There are consequences when you don't. I reported to a man named Julian. It was very intimidating. He is tall. He sometimes walked around the building with a stick in his hand, and he seemed to take pleasure in reminding me and others why he was allowed to have it and what he was permitted to do with it. This was the man who decided what I could write or not write and made it very clear Danny was untouchable. And, again, don't say rape.
This man had the power in scientology. He held the power to expel me, to excommunicate me should he find fit. He made my life hell from that day on. Danny was a celebrity and, therefore, heavily protected by scientology. I spent the year following the policies of scientology and went through everything Danny demanded and our Church enforced. A year later and tens of thousands of dollars from my bank accounts paid to scientology for dozens of hours of interrogations performed by the staff of scientology.
Then one day in May 2004 -- and I’m only -- I’m not going to say specifics. I'll say I was told about a girl named Lily, and it shook me to my core. And I had to say her name because THAT'S WHAT I WAS TOLD, and that's when I decided to take a step that would destroy my life. I knew Danny wouldn't stop, couldn't stop.
So, I reported my rape to LAPD in June of 2004. But before that, there was a meeting I was to attend with my rapist. As Danny demanded in April '04, I was forced by scientology executive Kirsten Catano to sit across from him in a meeting at a conference table where he claimed he would apologize and make a promise to never repeat such a crime on any woman if he could just hear me describe in detail how awful and violent the assault had been for me.
I naively believed in the possibility of redemption, and I agreed to speak about the whole ordeal. However, it soon became clear this wasn't real. The defendant, along with his friend Luke Watson, turned the meeting into a mockery. They laughed and treated the situation as a big joke, showing no genuine remorse with no intention to change. It was heart-breaking, the realization that the defendant's callousness and lack of empathy and everything I said made no difference.
What makes this situation even more distressing is the defendant's refusal to acknowledge the gravity of his actions, not just to me but to so many. He's not shown an ounce of remorse for the pain he caused me. Instead, he chose to laugh at my suffering and the horrors I told him about. To compound matters, he utilized our shared faith, our community, our religion to cover up his crime and silence me. It's deeply troubling that an institution of Faith which should stand for justice and compassion was manipulated to shield a perpetrator from accountability. The second time he laughed at me in that final meeting as I was describing reaching towards the nightstand, I still remember him laughing and saying he was afraid I might knock over the lamp on his nightstand and he loved that lamp.
I told Kirsten the meeting was over. I'm sorry. Yeah. I saw – I saw the defendant when Jane Doe 2 was speaking. I looked over. I knew her pain, and I knew what she was looking at and what was looking at her. I -- I’ve -- okay. I knew he belonged behind bars for the safety of all women. And I’m so sorry because -- why I am so upset is that I spent a year doing what I did and I know yours was after mine. So, it was really painful today but, I think, necessary. I wish I had reported him sooner to the police.
I knew he belonged behind bars for the safety of all women should they come in contact with him in an isolated setting, isolated from those who could protect them from him, isolated from those who now so easily claim they never saw that kind of behavior of the defendant. Of course, there are many cowards who can claim they just “never saw him rape anyone”.
Yeah, that's generally not how sexual assault or how rape works. We know that. For those of you living under a rock who might have publicly stated before this trial they hoped he'd be “Found Innocent”, let me state this: I read that, and my own daughters could read that, too. I have three daughters, but I wonder if Danny’s co-star knows that Danny Masterson had my nine-year-old daughter's name put on an NDA and stated it forbid her to disclose anything to do with Danny or raping or assaulting her mother. Me. Yes, it was my child's name on it, and it includes her as a party and requires her not to disclose.
The reason she knew about what this monster did to her mom was the monster himself arranged for the son of one of his friends, one of his homies, one of my daughter's classmates to tell my daughter -- to tell her, to shame her and say her mommy was a liar and Danny didn't rape her mommy. I still remember the day I picked her up from school and from the back seat my child asked, "mommy, what is rape?"… She was nine years old. I mentioned that in my letter to the IJC.
In September 2004, Danny had his attorney, Marty Singer, threaten me with what my daughter would read in the rag magazines at the grocery store line should I back out of signing the NDA that afternoon. How do I know it was Danny who arranged for my daughter to hear about the rape? Well, Danny came to the meeting with Kirsten from Scientology, and he opened up by admitting that what he did with my kid was just taking it too far and that the church had him put money in my daughter's name to receive Scientology counseling to help her with her emotional upset. I refused.
He smiled when he explained that he bought the little boy's entire box of fundraiser candy bars in exchange for that message being delivered to my child. That was like a hundred dollars. It wasn't easy, every step of the most recent police investigation into the crime of the past seven years. It's been filled with attempts to silence us all, to intimidate us and even obstruct. Danny had his attorney, Marty Singer, let me know I was in serious breach of the NDA that I was forced to enter into 20 years ago.
The NDA explicitly stated it had to do with rape and assault. Not just an NDA -- and all of the steps I must take to make sure Danny and his team knew if law enforcement ever came sniffing around this whole crime or if I intended to initiate recontact and I was to send a certified letter to an address to Marty Singer. Well, I’m here today to say I did not govern myself accordingly. I went to law enforcement. I did not notify you. I have no regrets. And about that NDA, the same man who had my nine-year-old daughter included by her full name in a rape cover up NDA didn't have the nerve to use his own name. Danny used an alias, David Duncan, a true coward and heartless monster.
Testifying in court was not easy. From day one of his appearance in September 2020, he packed the halls with his neighbors and so many of the people who covered for him. There was a South African man who assaulted me when i was teen training in scientology headquarters in Florida. He came to court despite my protest, and he was aware of him. And he did what he could to intimidate and harass me. There was the defendant's sister in the bathroom.
When I had my panic attack on the stand and I ran to the bathroom with my DA Advocate Rosario, she was in the bathroom, but we didn't see her feet. The room was cleared for jurors, we thought. I pressed my face against the tiles, and I screamed into the corner of that bathroom into the white tiles, "I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't do this." I started splashing water on my face. It was pouring down my face and my hair. And then I see one black loafer and a second come down, and the door opens. And I recognized the girl smiling at me, and Rosario looked at her and said "we have to leave" and pushed me into the hallway. Because she didn't have the space -- or grace to give me that space. With my face wet, my hair disheveled, that's where I went. I don't know if this is a game to them, but this Is a real court. This is not the Celebrity Center.
The first couple of years post the attack and rape were really dark. I lost pretty much everything that I knew. I lost my religion. I lost the ability to be in contact with almost every person I had known or loved my entire life because i was deemed an enemy to the group having been declared by scientology for reporting the rape to the LAPD.
I was given one concession. I was able to remain in contact with my parents in consideration for the millions they donated to scientology. I had to find an apartment with little to no references. I didn't exist outside of the scientology world. I had to find employment outside of the scientology dominated industry that I worked with, my parents' business. I worked three jobs, sometimes four at a time. I had to start my life all over at 29. And the ugly truth is, I didn't want to live. And it seemed the world I knew didn't want me to live. I remember crying to sleep and wishing I could not wake up. That was the first time. For most of '05 and '06, it was a regular occurrence.
I had extreme suicide ideation but too much love and concern for my daughter and parents to hurt them that way; or else I would have done it, I think. I would sob in my bed alone in my apartment and even started to pray to God, which I had never done in my life, and beg, if you are real, please don't let me wake up. I would bawl and let the tears roll down my face and soak the pillow for hours sometimes and pass out into a deep sleep only to wake up hours sometime later, disappointed.
I really thought it would solve all the problems for everyone and my daughter could have her friends and school and life back should I pass. I'm here to say that I overcame that, and I hope anyone who ever feels that way knows they can get help and that things do get better. While I have not suffered from that for over 15 years, I carry other scars and I may or may not ever really get over them.
I spent the last 20 years with a super extreme fear of the dark. It can be so much of a social handicap and issue for others around me. I need a nightlight. I prefer all of the lights on in the house if given my druthers. If the lights are out and I can't see a light or a guiding light, I can wake up very disoriented. If there is no light in the room I fall asleep in, I can wake up in either fight mode or flight mode if my husband should accidentally roll over or touch me. He knows I sometimes hide in the closet. He has to repeat, "it's me, it's me." he can see my eyes when it finally registers and calms down.
I can't believe I’m saying and sharing these things, but they are what I believe needs to be considered about the true or sometimes hidden effects of forcible rapes. These are not weekly or even regular occurrences where I hide in the closet or get disoriented but even the dozen-plus my husband has to deal with these past many years, it's too many. I have another issue, and I also can't believe I’m going to share. I just want to normalize. I can get so disoriented in this state that I will urinate in the corner of the room. I can't shower in peace. That's a bad place.
The shower is a place -- my husband knows better than to even come into the bathroom when I shower. So he frequently draws me baths in the claw tub where I’m not triggered as it bears no resemblance to the bathroom that night. I would compare it to pool spooks, if that helps anyone understand what it's like. I wish I could shower with my husband, but that will likely never happen.
I have panic attacks that can trigger my breathing that can become so shallow I can't seem to get air. My husband knows to get cold on my face in the way of freezing water or cold night air if it's not too extreme. I have screamed out the windows of our bedroom in the middle of the night in tears, "I’m not okay, I’m not okay," sobbing uncontrollably. I don't even know what the neighborhood thinks. I have medicine that can get ahead of one of these if I take it early on start. My husband knows what to look for, as does my service dog. I was once a very outgoing, trusting person. I have trust issues that are so extreme, it poses real challenges just in this investigation and the trust I needed to reach deep down and find. I still remember one call with DDA Mueller where I will forever be ashamed of not trusting him.
He was truly one of the most honorable men I have ever met. I'm sorry. I had a list of more to share, but I don't think I’m required to rip my soul completely open to illustrate just how much the actions of the defendant can both nearly end a life or destroy so many aspects of one's life. And we who do survive to fight back are left shattered in a billion pieces. I would like to thank the people who made this possible.
I won't be able to, but I wanted to say thank you to Leah Remini for lending me her full support, giving me safe passage to and from the halls. There is so much more I won't begin to tell everybody. I wanted to say that safe passage in something like this, and I really hope our advocates, who work in the courts, can get more support and resources because it can be harrowing out there. Actually, sometimes here. And I had quit -- i like to think I’m a fighter, but i had quit.
In 2016, I think I had given up hope. And then Chrissie [B] Tweeted my name, said something and we spoke. And she got me back in the fight because there was another one. I'd only ever heard of her. My mother wrote about her in 2004, and I have a copy of that report. So to anyone who dares to say anything about this woman and what she's shared, they can come up to me and get a copy of this report. And it is also forensically researched. And my mother, a Scientologist in good standing, talks about Brie laughing at her being sodomized by him when she passed out drunk. That's January 2004. So, sorry, Leah is not behind this.
In closing, I decided not to share my mother's letter. I really wish I could, but I’m just -- it's not a good idea. All I would like to say about it is -- I wish I could do this. I can't do this. In closing, on sentencing I just wanted to say one thing. I lost my family. Our lives were destroyed. He took lives. But there is something that I think is really telling, and I agree with him as to the sentence he should face.
This is a report written by Daniel Masterson, signed, dated December 9th, 2003. In closing, after he describes what he did to me that night and complained that the condoms were becoming dry, he closed with:"Rape, which I am being accused of, is a felony in the State of California and in the United States, punishable for up to a Life Sentence in prison. Ruth is claiming in this report, being CC'd to over a dozen people, that I have committed a Felony."
The defendant has been convicted by a jury of his peers. I think I agree with him that life is an appropriate Sentence. Thank you. That's it.
If you have a tip about Scientology, David Miscavige, or any other person or topic, you can contact me at 310-795-2497 or firstname.lastname@example.org. I am available on Signal, WhatsApp, and Confide. My direct messages are also open on Twitter and Instagram.
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