A Wilderness of Error: The Trials of Jeffrey MacDonald

I have taken huge interest in the MacDonald case since reading Fatal Vision in the early 90s which was closely followed by seeing the superb documentary False Witness by Christopher Olgiati. My interest piqued, I then read the Journalist and the Murderer and Fatal Justice. It is a very troubling case - either MacDonald massacred his own pregnant wife and two children or they were the victims of a sick "Manson-esque" gang of intruders. There is evidence and argument for both.Having read a lot about the case, including Morris' new book, it is clear to me that:1. there was terrible conduct on the part of the prosecution which could amount to a miscarriage warranting MacDonald's release; and2. there is no question that MacDonald is guilty.Morris' book reinforces point 1 in its portrayal of prosecutorial misconduct; it also inadvertently reinforces point 2, even though it is completely one-sided in its support of MacDonald and his innocence.The principal problem with the book is that it studiously avoids the main problem with MacDonald's defence - himself. MacDonald's explanation for what happened during and after the attack has never rung true and Morris never confronts it, focusing instead on the evidence supporting the Helena Stoeckley / intruder angle for almost the entire tome.Here is a summary of the problems I have with MacDonald's story which are never addressed by Morris:- MacDonald says he was awoken by his wife screaming for help to see four intruders next to him (allegedly Greg Mitchell, an African American with sergeant stripes, another male and Helena Stoeckley). So four intruders break into the home, start attacking the wife and kids, wander into the living room and only then does MacDonald wake up? Totally improbable.- Why did the four intruders standing next to MacDonald not attack him while he was asleep? Why wait for him to wake before assaulting him?- MacDonald says when he woke he waited a beat and then made to get up and only then was he attacked. Again, why wait to attack him? Also, if I woke to see four strangers, I would be leaping up and freaking out, not just lying there waiting for them to hit me. I would be making enough noise that the entire neighbourhood woke up! (bear in mind, the upstairs neighbour heard crying from the MacDonald house in the middle of the night, apparently after the murders, yet they didn't hear a man raging against a gang of four or more people as he defended his family?)- MacDonald says his wife cried out "Jeff, why are they doing this?" This has never made sense to me. The likelihood of someone saying this when being attacked seems so utterly remote. Brian Murtagh's view that Collette screamed "Jeff, why are you doing this?" when he initiated the attack is much more likely. Murtagh concludes that MacDonald changed it to why are "they" doing this as she must have shouted it and he was worried someone must have heard, so he subtly changed the meaning (only now it makes no sense).- MacDonald was woken by his wife and children screaming. So who was attacking them? Four people were allegedly attacking MacDonald when he woke so at least one more person was attacking his wife/kids. So at least five people were in the house attacking the family. The lack of evidence of such intruders is incredible, as is the lack of evidence of neighbours seeing or hearing this gang of people.- How (and why) did at least three male attackers leave such relatively minor wounds on MacDonald compared to the rest of his family? Surely a Green Beret would be the first person the intruders would seek to incapacitate?- Why would Stoeckley, 30 minutes after the murders, be possibly wandering the street near the MacDonald house? Why not flee? Where were the rest of her gang, did they just leave her?- If MacDonald was attacked and used his pyjama top as a shield in the living room, how come the living room is not littered with blue threads from the top and why is the pocket of the top in the master bedroom and threads from it all over the bedroom and under Colette?- How did Colette's blood get on the pyjama top before it was torn and shredded?- Why would the killer hippies have written Pig using a surgical glove? The prosecution claimed that MacDonald wrote Pig on the headboard using a surgical glove, the tips of which were found on the floor near the headboard. At the hearing, I understand the defence brought evidence to show that the glove used was from a different batch unassociated with MacDonald's gloves. Okay, even if that is true, how was it in the house? Did hippies bring a random surgical glove to the house just to write the word Pig? No. A surgical glove was used because MacDonald feared leaving a fingerprint when he wrote Pig on the headboard.- If Colette was dead by the time MacDonald tried to resuscitate her, how could a trained doctor not have noticed that and how come she had some of his hair in her dead hand?- Overall, the most damning thing for me is that, if MacDonald's wife and children were being attacked, I would expect any husband / father to fight to the death to get to them to protect them. As it is, a fit, young and athletic MacDonald says he was bashed on the head and was knocked unconscious after a short scuffle that barely disturbed the living room. Preposterous.As for the Helena Stoeckley angle that Morris focuses on, I think she may well have visited the house either on the night in question (perhaps she stimulated the argument that night) or some other time, perhaps looking for drugs and that may explain her obsession with being in the house and MacDonald's description of her. As for her testimony, although Judge Dupree comes across as biased and dislikable, he was probably right that her evidence - which was all over the place and ranged from holding a candle dripping blood during the murders, to thinking she was there to dreaming she was there - was probative of virtually nothing. MacDonald must not have believed his luck that someone as suggestible and spaced-out as Stoeckley would try and incriminate herself.Regarding Morris' book, it is not a good start for anyone unfamiliar with the story as it treats the reader as knowledgable about the case and there are no traditional photo / exhibit pages as you would expect in a normal real-life crime book. The structure of the book is actually rather annoying. Chapters are no more than 4-5 pages in length which makes for easy reading, but it makes the story choppy and disjointed. Each chapter contains a black page with a drawing of some point of reference in the chapter which is pointless and pads out the book needlessly - there must be close to 100 of such unnecessary pages. As I mentioned, there are no photos / exhibits in the traditional sense, instead there are graphics and pictures from the case which are given a stylistic twist through the use of windows zooming into the text (which didn't add much in my view).Some of the arguments Morris postulates are also infuriating and border on being disingenuous. For instance, Morris claims that Murtagh's exhibition of a pajama top being stabbed is "silly-silly" and unscientific even though it represented MacDonald's testimony, whereas he puts great stock in John Thornton's "scientific" contraption using a slab of ham which proved that the holes could be round and not torn. What Morris doesn't mention is that Thornton's experiment does not in any way replicate MacDonald's version of events. Of course Thornton's holes were perfectly round - he was stabbing the moving pajama top wrapped around a ham. The ham stopped any tearing occurring. Murtagh's demonstration proved that if MacDonald was defending himself as he claimed, the pyjama top would have been ripped to pieces and full or jagged holes. Also, something again not mentioned by Morris, MacDonald's hands would have been lacerated. In court, Murtagh's hand was stabbed during the demonstration under controlled circumstances. In the dark, fighting off three men, if MacDonald's version of events was true, his hands should have been lacerated and punctured as he warded off blows. But they weren't.Another rather annoying moment relates to Dr James Brussel. Morris' view is that there is nothing remotely psychopathic about MacDonald (indeed, he questions the whole concept of a psychopath). Dr Brussel concluded that MacDonald was a manipulative psychopath and this is dismissed by Morris. Which is fine as far as it goes - indeed, there is no evidence of fire starting or animal harming or other anti-social behaviour in MacDonald's youth). He then recounts MacDonald's interaction with Brussel in which MacDonald portrays Brussel as a seriously demented loon who probably should be have been in a secure institute (he babbled about losing a hat, had no idea where he was, and no idea where he was going after the meeting). This is repeated without challenge. To me, MacDonald's recollection of the meeting is totally unrealistic, preposterous even, and smacks of exactly the manipulative, controlling psychopathy that Brussel identified in his report.The treatment of Stoeckley's "confessions" is also inconsistent. Morris clearly takes Stoeckley's story about being present when the murders take place very seriously and sees it as a central plank in MacDonald innocence. The middle half of the book is devoted to stories of Stoeckley confessing to just about anyone, with Morris setting out in detail her statements. What Morris does not focus on at all is just how inconsistent and contradictory Stoeckley's stories are. One verbatim report has Stoeckley saying that the gang went to MacDonald's house and it was only when he went to the phone to alert some MPs that he was attacked and it got out of hand. This is relayed by Morris without comment even though it flatly contradicts MacDonald's own account and is completely at odds with the other confessions Stoeckley gave. This ludicrous "confession" is indicative of Stoeckley having invented her involvement in whole thing, something Morris never even tries to address. Stoeckley also gave video evidence to Ted Gunderson, hired by MacDonald, during which she said her gang went to give him a hard time about drugs, and when he refused to give them drugs, it got out of hand. Again, the fact that these recollections are completely contrary to MacDonald's own account, is ignored by the MacDonald apologists.The last quarter of the book is mainly devoted to the book Fatal Vision and Joe McGinniss' relationship with MacDonald and his diet pill theory. There is no doubt that McGinniss behaved in an unethical and underhanded manner to trick and deceive MacDonald. This is hardly new as Janet Malcolm has already written a whole book about it. More importantly, it is also completely pointless. Why focus so much attention on a book published years after MacDonald had been convicted? Is the reader meant to feel sorry for MacDonald?As for the diet pill theory, it probably is nonsense. It is interesting that Morris dismisses the whole psychopath concept as MacDonald seems to fit the bill perfectly to me. I suspect he and Colette had drifted apart and were tense with a third child coming, MacDonald wanted a new start and was on the edge and had a fight with Colette which got out of hand and led to him killing his family. That he had multiple affairs shortly after the murders and then went to the West Coast and lived the high life of performance cars, yachts and women - not a dull family life with 3 kids and unhappy wife - The fact that MacDonald continues to receive support from high profile lawyers and booster who plead his innocence - like Morris - just proves to me that he is one of the most compelling, believable and manipulative psychopaths of the 20th century.One of the most telling incidents for me of MacDonald's mentality was when he was first challenged by the army. At the end of the lengthy session, when the Army put to him that there would be a hearing and MacDonald broke down, he asked why he would do something to jeopardise his happily family life. He was then presented with some photos of women with whom he had had recent affairs. MacDonald then sneers "You're more thorough than I thought". What a thing to say.Overall, I found the book rather frustrating and too one-sided. The steadfast refusal to address the overwhelming circumstantial and forensic evidence against MacDonald is ridiculous. The brilliant Olgiati documentary covered basically the same ground, only much better and in a more balanced manner.As a counter-point to this book, I strongly recommend the Gene Weingarten article about MacDonald and Murtagh published by the Washington Post in 2012 which to me paints the most likely portrait of what happened that night at Fort Bragg and is thoroughly compelling and persuasive in a way that Morris' book simply is not.

Did the army doctor murder his pregnant wife and two little girls or was it someone else? I just don't know but this book is a wonderful reading of the complete crime and trials. See if you come to your own conclusion.

I have followed the Jeffrey MacDonald trial since around the year 2000 when I saw the American Justice episode on A&E. While that episode was supposed to leave you feeling that MacDonald was guilty, it still left me with a lingering sense that the wrong man was in prison, and that he had been imprisoned based mostly on the fact that he was a pretty unlikeable guy who came off quite cold. When I found out Errol Morris, he of The Thin Blue Line wrote a book on this trial, I knew I had to read it. At its heart it is a book about injustice, truth and how once we choose our own narratives they become self fulfilling prophecies. The world chose the Fatal Vision narrative and then every other fact about MacDonald fell into place for the public. Oh, he ran off to California and started a new life. Oh, he didn't show enough emotion in the interviews I saw him in. Oh, he doesn't talk about his family enough, only about himself. Morris shows that if you use the actual facts of the trial, not MacDonald's (right or wrong) way of coping with this tragedy, it pretty much points to the fact he didn't do it. Fascinating read.

Those familiar with Morris' work on film will have come to expect a certain level of investigative rigour. A Wilderness of Error may well be the apogee of his extraordinary research practice. The wealth of detailed information presented in this book is, frankly, extraordinary. Combine this information with Morris' knowledge of literature (he is notoriously a compulsive reader), allowing him to invoke some deeply perceptive literary analogies and throw into stark relief the desperate tragedy of the case, and you have a piece of investigative writing raised to the status of art, offering insight far beyond the details of the case itself. Why, then, only four stars? Morris' greatest strength can sometimes work against the narrative urgency of the text; his constant fixation upon detail and desire to pursue every line of investigation as far as is possible can become tiring. At times, you feel he has proven his point to almost total certainty and yet there are further pages of detail to work through, hammering the point home from every possible angle. Whilst this is useful in a courtroom, in the case of a book they might have been better served as appendices so as not to impede a more swift apprehension of the arguments presented. These instances are rare, however, and can be forgiven as they appear out of an earnest pursuit of truth above all else. Another criticism is that, on one or two occasions, Morris takes jabs at the less likeable characters in the story, which feel cheap. Having established that these people are untrustworthy or manipulative through more objective means (such as documentary evidence of the ways in which they behaved in relation to the case) the (very rare) cheap shots slightly undermine the otherwise excellent work Morris has done.These are extremely minor quibbles though. Overall, the book stands as an argument for the ennobling power of knowledge sought through evidence, not superstition, and the dangers of succumbing to the easiest and most palatable narrative.

What utter nonsense. Sure, there were "errors" in the initial investigation of the MacDonald case by the Army CID. But the solid and overwhelming evidence always pointed to Jeffrey MacDonald as the perpetrator of the cruel slaughter of his pregnant wife and his 5- and 2-year old daughters. This book is simply (excuse the expression) "crap." I would have expected much better from Errol Morris, but I suppose he hit his peak with "The Thin Blue Line," and had been seeking that same high ever sense. He certainly didn't get it here.