Justyna M. in Criminal Justice
“The truth may hurt for a little, but a lie hurts forever.” – Unknown
In recent years, the Menendez brothers, convicted of the brutal murders of their parents in 1989, have gained a significant online following. Their story, once a symbol of privilege and patricide, has been reinterpreted by some through a modern lens, focusing on claims of long-term abuse. It seems District Attorney George Gascón is catering to this social media-driven narrative as he revisits the case. But the question remains: is this a genuine pursuit of justice, or a desperate political move to salvage his failing re-election campaign?
The possibility of the brothers’ release or a reduced sentence has sparked debate. While the moral and legal merits of such an outcome are unclear, the timing raises red flags. Gascón is trailing in the polls, down by 30% against law-and-order candidate Nathan Hochman, according to a recent UC Berkeley Institute of Governmental Studies and Los Angeles Times poll. It’s hard to shake the feeling that his renewed interest in the Menendez case is less about justice and more about political survival.
To his credit, Gascón has overseen the exoneration of 14 wrongfully convicted individuals during his tenure. However, this doesn’t seem to fit the same mold. Rather than correcting a miscarriage of justice, this feels like the exploitation of a tragedy for political gain. Even Hochman has labeled the timing “incredibly suspicious,” and while both men have political stakes in this race, Gascón’s sudden focus on the Menendez brothers reeks of opportunism.
The Menendez Case Revisited
Last year, the Menendez brothers’ legal team submitted a writ of habeas corpus, presenting new evidence that framed the killings as acts of “imperfect self-defense” after years of physical and sexual abuse by their parents, Jose and Kitty Menendez. This includes a letter Erik Menendez wrote at 13 to a cousin, describing his fear of his father, and allegations by Roy Rosselló, a former member of the boy band Menudo, who claimed he was sexually assaulted by Jose Menendez. On October 3, Gascón announced his renewed interest in the case. Coincidentally, that same day, the Los Angeles Times ran a story about Shanice Amanda Dyer, a member of the Crips, who killed two people at random when she was 17. Gascón, in line with his progressive philosophy, tried her as a juvenile. She served a short prison sentence, only to be released and later arrested for a suspected murder in Pomona. These two cases side by side raise concerns about Gascón’s judgment and priorities. Gascón’s office has defended his review of the Menendez case, stating that he has the legal right to request a reduced sentence if the brothers have been rehabilitated. However, for Kathy Cady, attorney for Kitty Menendez’s brother, this is yet another instance of Gascón’s “callous disregard” for victims and their families.
Politics and the Social Media Stage
The Menendez brothers’ story has captured the imagination of many online, where their fan base continues to grow. Gascón seems to be pandering to this audience, as if his constituency exists entirely on the internet. In one particularly awkward TikTok video, he hypes himself up to a Sabrina Carpenter song, garnering comments like, “I’ve never been more invested in California politics,” from a user based in Mississippi. While this might win him some clout online, the real-world implications are much more complex.
Gascón’s career has been varied. He served as a Los Angeles police officer, became the chief of police in Mesa, Arizona, and eventually took up the role of district attorney in San Francisco, filling the seat vacated by now-Vice President Kamala Harris. In 2019, Gascón returned to Los Angeles to run for district attorney on a progressive platform. His reforms, aimed at reducing mass incarceration and focusing on rehabilitation, have met with both praise and fierce criticism. Despite this background, Gascón’s handling of the Menendez case feels like a last-ditch effort to sway voters in his favor. Criminal justice reform is a necessary but delicate task, and Gascón has struggled to balance reform with public safety. His policies, which often prioritize alternative sentencing for violent offenders, have made him a target for critics who accuse him of being too lenient.
Where Is Leslie Abramson, the Original Defense Attorney for the Menendez Brothers?
Leslie Abramson became a household name during the 1990s for her passionate defense of Lyle and Erik Menendez, the brothers who were convicted of murdering their parents in 1989. As the Menendez brothers’ story re-emerges into the public eye with the recent Netflix documentary Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story, many are asking: Where is Leslie Abramson now, and why isn’t she speaking up? For those who remember the trials, Abramson was a force to be reckoned with. She fought tirelessly to defend the Menendez brothers, arguing that the killings were the result of years of physical and sexual abuse inflicted by their parents. Her fierce advocacy was central to their defense, helping them avoid the death penalty, though they were ultimately sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
The Menendez Case Revisited
The Netflix documentary, which has quickly climbed into the platform’s top 10, revisits the infamous case and features audio interviews with the brothers for the first time in 30 years. However, one key figure is noticeably absent: Leslie Abramson. Despite being contacted by the filmmakers, she declined to participate in the documentary. This has left many people wondering why Abramson has chosen to remain silent, especially when this could be her opportunity to weigh in on the renewed claims of abuse and the possibility of justice for her former clients. Could it be that she no longer believes in their defense? Or perhaps she feels that the case is closed, and no amount of media attention will change that?
Why Is Leslie Abramson Silent?
Abramson has kept a relatively low profile in recent years. She built a reputation as a formidable defense attorney, but after the Menendez trial, her career began to slow down. She briefly represented music producer Phil Spector but stepped down due to “ethical” concerns. Today, her legal license is no longer active, and according to the State Bar of California, she is retired from practicing law. While Netflix reached out to her to participate in the documentary, Abramson explained that she has no interest in revisiting the past. In a statement provided, she said, “Thirty years is a long time. I’d like to leave the past in the past. No amount of media, nor teenage petitions will alter the fate of these clients. Only the court can do that, and they have ruled.”
This response suggests that Abramson believes that the courts have already made their decision, and there’s no point in reopening old wounds. For her, the case is over, and perhaps, despite her efforts, she now accepts that the brothers’ fate was sealed by their actions that night in 1989.
Abramson’s reluctance to engage with the renewed interest in the Menendez brothers has sparked speculation. Some wonder if she now harbors doubts about the abuse claims she once fervently defended, or if her withdrawal is simply a reflection of a seasoned lawyer who was doing her job: defending her clients to the best of her ability, regardless of personal belief. The question arises whether Abramson has come to see the case in a different light, or if she is simply choosing to stay out of the spotlight. She may believe that the court’s ruling was just, and no matter how compelling the new evidence may seem, the brothers’ guilt was clear.
Retrial of the Menendez Brothers: A Study in Legal Strategy and Family Tragedy ?
On February 28, 1995, Judge Stanley Weisberg set the date for the retrial of the Menendez brothers, Lyle and Erik, to June 12, 1995. However, the retrial faced several delays and did not commence until August 1995. In April, Judge Weisberg ruled that both brothers would be retried together before a single jury, asserting that “the advantages of a single trial greatly outweigh the potential prejudice.” With the appointment of David Conn and Carol Najera, both seasoned prosecutors in the Los Angeles County District Attorney’s Office, the case was set to take a new direction. Conn, with 18 years of experience and an impressive career that began with a stint in the Marines, took on the challenge of dismantling the defense strategies employed in the first trial. Conn was known for his meticulous planning, often compared to the comic hero Clark Kent due to his sharp appearance and determined demeanor.
Representing Erik Menendez was Leslie Abramson, funded by Los Angeles County taxpayers after the brothers had exhausted their financial resources. Abramson was assisted by Barry Levin, while Lyle was represented by Charles Gessler, a respected death penalty attorney. The court declared both brothers indigent, leading to Gessler’s representation of Lyle and Towery’s assistance as a deputy public defender. This case marked Gessler’s final trial before retirement. Jury selection for the retrial began on August 21, 1995, with opening statements delivered on October 11, 1995. In contrast to the first trial, which was highly publicized and televised, Judge Weisberg ruled against televised coverage to minimize outside influence on jurors and restricted the number of defense witnesses testifying about abuse allegations. The retrial featured only 64 witnesses compared to 101 in the first trial and lasted 23 weeks, adopting a far more subdued atmosphere. Conn had spent the two-and-a-half years since the first trial studying the prosecution’s mistakes, particularly the failure to directly address the brothers’ claims of abuse. This time, he attacked the defense’s assertion of battered person syndrome and introduced new theories regarding the murders. Conn opted to present recordings of the brothers’ confessions instead of relying on Dr. Oziel, the original psychiatrist who had testified in the first trial. In his opening statement, Conn argued that the brothers acted out of greed, ambushing their parents and attempting to secure their inheritance. He illustrated this point with autopsy and crime scene photos, highlighting that just 24 hours after the murders, Lyle and Erik were moving their parents’ safe to a probate attorney’s office. In contrast, Abramson contended that the brothers acted out of fear, citing Erik’s history of abuse, while Gessler argued that they believed their parents possessed supernatural powers.
The prosecution’s case began by playing key tapes of the brothers’ interviews and confessions, suggesting they had constructed a web of lies to evade suspicion. Testimony from witnesses reiterated the strict and abusive parenting style of Jose Menendez, while new evidence emerged from Klara Wright, the wife of the probate attorney. She testified that the brothers brought the safe to her home in hopes of accessing their parents’ will, yet it was discovered empty just two days after the murders.
The prosecution also introduced testimony from Carlos Baralt, who noted that Jose Menendez had discussed disinheriting his sons before the killings. The brothers’ credibility came into question when Conn presented excerpts from a letter Lyle wrote, attempting to persuade a potential defense witness to testify falsely regarding their alleged solicitation of a handgun.
Throughout the trial, Conn established a narrative of premeditated murder, utilizing Dr. Roger McCarthy to reconstruct the crime scene and assert that the brothers executed their parents. He contended that the nature of the shootings indicated a deliberate plan to frame the murders as a Mafia hit. This narrative was met with skepticism from the defense, who sought to demonstrate inconsistencies in Conn’s arguments and the prosecution’s use of so-called “junk science.”
As the trial progressed, Erik took the stand for 15 days, recounting his experiences of alleged sexual abuse and detailing his relationship with his parents. He faced extensive cross-examination by Conn, who highlighted inconsistencies in Erik’s statements and questioned the absence of corroborating evidence. To bolster Erik’s claims, the defense called Dr. John Wilson, who diagnosed him with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) attributed to the abuse he alleged to have suffered.
The defense strategy for Lyle shifted throughout the trial, with Gessler arguing that Lyle acted in the heat of passion and was overwhelmed by emotions during the killings. The brothers’ initial joint defense began to splinter, with Lyle’s reluctance to testify resulting in a diminished defense compared to the first trial.
As the defense case concluded on January 30, 1996, Judge Weisberg restricted the number of mental health experts that could testify and ruled out six witnesses from the first trial, asserting that psychological mistreatment was irrelevant to the case. This decision left the jury with limited insight into the brothers’ psychological state during the tragic events of August 20, 1989.
The retrial of the Menendez brothers stands as a pivotal moment in American criminal law, highlighting the complexities of family dynamics, the impact of alleged abuse, and the intricacies of legal strategy. Ultimately, the outcome of the trial would depend on how effectively the prosecution could dismantle the defense’s narrative of fear and trauma while illustrating the brothers’ motives rooted in greed and premeditation. As the case unfolded, it served as a stark reminder of the profound effects of violence within families and the broader societal implications surrounding issues of justice and accountability.
On February 29, the closing arguments concluded with Conn asserting to the jury that Lyle and Erik had shifted blame onto their victims, effectively putting their parents on trial. He accused them of fabricating a clever excuse of abuse and telling numerous lies to rationalize their decision to shoot their parents. The jury began deliberations on March 1. However, on March 14, Judge Weissberg dismissed two female jurors, including the foreperson, for medical reasons. The foreperson had suffered a heart attack, and another juror had gone into premature labor. They were replaced by one male and one female alternate juror, necessitating a restart of the jury deliberations. The new jury comprised eight men and four women.
After four days of deliberation, on March 20, the jury found the Menendez brothers guilty of two counts of first-degree murder, as well as conspiracy to commit murder. The jurors also identified two special circumstances associated with the murders: lying in wait and multiple murders. With these special circumstances established, the only sentencing options were life in prison without the possibility of parole or death by execution. The same jury that convicted the brothers of first-degree murder would reconvene for a second, smaller trial known as the penalty phase to determine their sentences.
The Menendez Brothers: A Mockery of Justice
It’s possible that Gascón, flawed as he may be as a politician, is correct about the Menendez brothers deserving a fairer hearing. After all, our understanding of abuse—especially the abuse of boys and men—has evolved over the past 30 years. But even with this newfound perspective, it’s hard to argue that the brothers didn’t commit a horrific crime. They weren’t convicted because they were spoiled rich kids, but because they cold-bloodedly murdered their parents.
Alan Abrahamson, who covered the first Menendez trial for the Los Angeles Times, recently wrote that “the brothers are skilled liars who prey on the emotions of those who do not understand the presence of evil in our world.” His assessment was harsh, but it reflects the reality of a case that ended with the brothers behind bars for a reason. Despite their emotional testimonies and the skill of their defense attorneys, the jury found them guilty, and justice was served.
By reopening this case now, Gascón risks undermining the credibility of the very criminal justice system he’s supposed to represent. While his efforts may resonate with a niche online community, Angelenos deserve more than social media theatrics—they deserve leadership that prioritizes truth and justice over political gamesmanship.
In the end, it’s not about whether the Menendez brothers should receive a fair hearing—they already did. It’s about whether the district attorney can do his job without exploiting high-profile cases to save his career. As voters head to the polls, they’ll have to decide if Gascón is the right man for the job. But as it stands, his handling of the Menendez case leaves much to be desired.
Leslie Abramson remains an iconic figure in the history of American criminal defense. Though she has stepped away from public life, her work in the Menendez trial left a lasting impression on the legal community and the general public. She fought hard for her clients, helping them avoid the death penalty—a victory in itself, even if they were sentenced to life without parole.
While the Netflix documentary has reignited debates about the Menendez brothers’ motives and whether they deserve a reduced sentence, it seems Abramson is content to let the legal system run its course without her involvement.
Whether she still believes in the defense she presented all those years ago or has simply moved on from the case, one thing is certain: Leslie Abramson has made her decision to stay silent, leaving the rest of us to speculate on the truth behind the Menendez brothers’ crimes.
The case of the Menendez brothers has long been a source of controversy, but recent developments reveal a troubling trend: a mockery of the criminal justice system fueled by social media, celebrity culture, and a generation seemingly disconnected from reality. As I discussed in my previous publication, the Menendez brothers have leveraged their status—essentially monetizing their notoriety—to once again challenge the system that convicted them. Their retrial was funded by money generated from their attorney, who has remained silent even after 35 years of legal battles. This raises the question: what message does this send about the values of justice in our society?
In what I call the “XYZ generation,” there is a pervasive lack of understanding about critical issues such as the definitions of murder and manslaughter. Many young people seem to live in a bubble, influenced by platforms like TikTok and Instagram rather than engaging with real information. They don’t read, they don’t educate themselves, and they are instead captivated by a “La La land” where they accept narratives without question. This is deeply concerning, as it creates a populace that may one day jury or legislate without understanding the gravity of their decisions.
The recent Netflix documentary, “Monsters,” has only exacerbated this issue by romanticizing the Menendez brothers, fostering a cult-like belief in their innocence. But let’s be clear: the police investigation revealed no substantial evidence of abuse. Jose Menendez, the brothers’ father, was a strict parent who made it clear that if they did not pursue meaningful careers, they would be disinherited. Why, then, were they so desperate to find a will? This was not a case of escaping abuse; it was a crime motivated by greed. The Menendez brothers have adeptly played their roles as model inmates, crafting a façade that would make them appear sympathetic to the public eye. This strategy is calculated; they know that a polished image increases their chances of parole. But what about those who are truly innocent and languish in prison for decades, victims of wrongful convictions? How do they feel knowing that their struggles for justice are overshadowed by the sensationalized stories of two convicted murderers? The system appears to be blind and inequitable, favoring those with celebrity status while ignoring the voices of the wrongfully imprisoned.
Director, who created “Monsters,” have a responsibility to portray justice accurately. Instead, they perpetuate a narrative that undermines the integrity of the legal system. These individuals may seek fame, but they should remember that such notoriety can also lead to legal repercussions, especially when they fabricate stories that defame the characters of those involved.
“Two stars of Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story address the show’s controversial storyline that implies the titular brothers had an incestuous relationship. The new Netflix series from producer Ryan Murphy has drawn a lot of attention ever since its release weeks ago, particularly for its portrayal of the Menendez brothers’ relationship. This primarily involves a moment featuring Vanity Fair reporter Dominick Dunne (Nathan Lane), where he entertains guests with questions and speculative theories, including why the brothers didn’t disclose their alleged abuse earlier. At one point, he even floats the possibility of incest, leading to a flashback of Kitty Menendez walking in on her sons in the shower.”
Furthermore, the legal representation for victims like Kitty and Jose Menendez is alarmingly inadequate. With a District Attorney eager for reappointment and seemingly more invested in political ambitions than in justice, the legacy of individuals like Kamala Harris hangs heavily over this case. It’s time for a reckoning in the California justice system, one that prioritizes truth and accountability over sensationalism and fame.
As we continue to navigate this complex landscape, it’s imperative to advocate for true justice—justice that serves the innocent and holds the guilty accountable. Let’s not allow the spectacle of a retrial to overshadow the real issues at hand.
The Private Diary of Lyle Menendez: In His Own Words!, and tells his brother, “You fucked us. We are fucked. They have hours of you on tape! And you sound insane!”
Source for this publication:
Where is Leslie Abramson now? Lawyer in Menendez brothers’ trial | Radio Times
The real reason Los Angeles’ DA reopened the Menendez brothers’ case (msnbc.com)
Justice Unlocked. 
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