Bruce's Sentencing

I have done difficult things. Many of these difficult things have been related to the death of my brother, Lucas Benjamin Leonard, on October 12, 2015. Speaking at our father's sentencing was definitely one of the most difficult. Our father, Bruce Leonard, was originally arrested and charged with first-degree manslaughter. I immediately knew that this was not an accurate reflection of the truth of what happened. The Grand Jury indicted him along with the other defendants on 13 counts, 6 of which were later dismissed. At the last minute, one day before his trial was to begin, Dad chose to plead guilty to 1st and 2nd degree assault. The sentence would be 15-16 years. Sarah Ferguson's trial did begin the next day.

D.A. Scott McNamara asked me to speak on behalf of my father at his sentencing. Typically, the prosecution provides opportunities for victims to speak at the sentencing of a criminal, but Mr. McNamara understood the need for my father's true identity to be presented. Along with myself, Dad's brother-in-law, Tim Wright, and our friend, Father Richard Dibble, addressed the court, describing the Bruce Leonard we knew. In an unprecedented move, the D.A. asked Judge Dwyer to reduce the sentence Dad received to be less than what Tiffanie Irwin received. The sentence imposed was 10 years in state prison. I will forever be grateful to Mr. McNamara and Judge Dwyer for the effort they made to understand the situation of undue influence and destructive mind control that was at work over the many years of Irwin control at Word of Life.

Following is the statement I gave in court when my father was sentenced on February 6, 2017.

Your Honor, thank you.  You are an admirable judge—fair and impartial. You have diligently sought the facts in this case, carefully considered each decision you’ve made, and not allowed the highly emotional drama of this tragedy to influence your rulings. For this I will be ever grateful. 

When I was little, one of my favorite things to do was wrestle with my dad. As I grew just a bit older, I began to understand that he was a good wrestler. The story of his success would come to a hasty end though as a light-but-chiding caution from his high school wrestling coach was recalled: “Bruce,” he’d declare, “you’re too nice.” I learned that my dad was “too nice” in another field as well—teaching high school students. You see, my dad earned his teaching certificate and has a Master’s degree in plant and soil science. He is a keenly intelligent man. But, his professional teaching career was brief, because again, “Bruce, you’re too nice.”   

Of course he never quit teaching really. He taught me lesson upon lesson in all areas of science… and life. As a typical teenager who thought she knew better, I would get miffed at my dad for not being harsher with household members who failed to complete their chores. I saw our “Family Meetings” as meaningless—apart from the snack cakes we were treated to at the end—because still, Dad was too nice. The snack cakes were hardly the "just desserts" I thought were fitting. Now that I have my own household to run, I can appreciate and admire my father’s copious amounts of tolerance and the amazing persistence he consistently exercised in training his children. Even so, I will never have the patience that he has invariably exemplified.  

When I was little, my dad demonstrated to me how to care for all life. He trained me to take care of the runts of litters born on our family farm. He guided me in nursing injured wildlife I’d find on the side of the road. He taught me to tend the living treasures I decided to collect. We built terrariums and cared for plants. We built habitats and cared for critters. All my life, my dad has been collecting and nurturing life—working on the family farm when I was very young and at the Farmer’s Museum in Cooperstown after that. He found deeply satisfying work in landscaping for Creekside Gardens during the past two decades. Even in these most recent years, as he worked for the Utica City School District, he found his niche—caring for, teaching, and supporting students with special needs. 

Besides his gentle, patient character, my dad is well-known for a few other traits, and these are the ones I believe the Irwins seized upon: his indecisiveness and stubbornness. One might think that these particular traits do not go together, that they are almost opposite. However, for my dad, his stubbornness actually reinforces his indecisiveness. There has been a running joke about asking Dad if he’d like a cup of coffee, and how many moments may pass before the answer is given. As a kid, asking his permission meant being prepared to develop a list of pros and cons.  

Now, considering how hesitant my father has always been to make a decision--having to ponder the choices and weigh the options--it is easy to see how this impulsive behavior on October 11-12, 2015, was directly demanded of my father. He did not call for the counseling session. Rather, he was ordered to stay along with his family. He did not retrieve the cord to use.  Rather, it was put in his hand. The one decision he made personally, as has been testified, was to examine Luke’s bleeding injury and pronounce to the others who were present, “We have to stop.” 

As I have expressed, my father has always collected life, that he might nurture and further develop it—plants, animals, and people. My dad was so excited when he married Debi, because now he was getting two more kids after 13 years of having just one child. Then he was thrilled at having four more babies to raise. The only problem was that his large, growing family was fully under the control of the Irwins. He and our whole family became victims. 

So much life was destroyed—decimated—on October 12, 2015. Our family was blown apart. My dad has lost so much, and what hasn’t completely vanished is held only by the most delicate thread. Your Honor, I would ask that you sentence my father to no more time than Tiffanie Irwin will serve. I would also propose that the sentence include some form of service, which would make use of my father’s talents and skills. I am not qualified to make any specific suggestion, but Bruce Leonard—outside the undue influence of the Irwins and Word of Life—is a significant asset to society. Please consider how he could best serve his sentence, and best attempt to make things right for himself, his family, and his community. 

I want the court and the public to know my dad... I realize I will never be able to say enough to feel satisfied with my attempt to describe who Bruce Leonard was and is outside the control of Word of Life. People will believe what they want to believe, but I shall endeavor to inform them and let my dad know that I have not forgotten who he truly is, that I would always trust him with my children, and that my deep love for him will never end.