"So when Jeff and I discussed it, I encouraged him to go. This is something that if you think will help restore your spirits because the sun does shine, and if the people are kind, and if you can be engaged in the work of your interest—why not?' "
"Well, it seems to me he might want to stay around to occasionally visit the graves."
"Let me tell you something. I don't even visit those graves. I did very consistently in the very early years but I found that after a while—first of all, the memory of the children—and that includes Colette, because essentially she was my child—the memory is very pure and very good and I would like to keep it that way. I don't mind putting flowers on the graves, but I don't want to enter into a competition."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Mr. Woerheide, I am not casting aspersions, but it is true that Mr. and Mrs. Kassab keep those flowers fresh and there are multiple baskets of flowers and they are never left to wilt or die.
"Their visits there are continuous but by the same token it seems like a show and I will tell you why. Beside those bodies lies the body of her husband and there is no tombstone or name commemorating him. This may sound harsh, and I pass no judgment, but as you know I am sure that man committed suicide and Mildred could not ever forgive this. As a result she will not honor him by even putting his name there." (This, as it happens, was not true. There was, and is, a marker at the grave of Cowles Stevenson.)
"Please let me clear some of these things up right now. The fact that there was a great deal of attention paid to the girls' graves was pleasing at first, and then I realized that in a sense it was symbolic, as though they were keeping alive more than the memory of the death of the children: it was mostly for attention to be brought to this thing.
"Now for the loss of three lives attention must be paid, but it seems to me not in this showy way. So I feel that if that is how they spend their time and since I, for about a year and a half, have felt that it would be impossible for me to continue visiting or meeting them on the basis that their attitude toward Jeff had changed, then you will have to forgive me when I tell you that I prefer to have the thoughts of my children in my mind rather than in flowers placed on a grave where there are already too many placed."
"That is very interesting," Victor Woerheide said. "Tell me, Mrs. MacDonald, why do you think the Kassabs, who were so supportive of your son, suddenly changed their mind about him?"
"In the dynamics of human behavior one has to stop and wonder why attitudes change. Now let me start from the beginning, as I see it."
"By all means, do so."
"Frequently, I have heard the story over and over again from both Mildred and her sister Helen that Mildred was the youngest and the prettiest, and therefore a lot of attention was paid to making sure that Mildred's life was filled with gaiety and good things. She was given the opportunity that the older sisters and the parents worked towards giving her and she herself was almost prepared to sort of be onstage.
"In all sincerity, the woman has had a tough time because there have been tragedies in her life. But every time something happened, it always seemed to—you know, she is a little lady, but a very powerful lady and the power is in that she shuts -out more. In other words, she has the power, I think, to change her temperament.
"Now what happens is that when her husband died—and this is foreign to my lifestyle—she was a lady who traveled in the more elite set in Patchogue. We were with other kinds of people. They were good people, from all walks of life, but Mildred was very selective about professional people.
"When her husband died, the concern in the family was for Mildred. So they gathered together and they sent her on a world tour of one year, and when she returned, they then established her in a hotel in New York for six months, and they gleefully talk about how she was set up in the best table in the dining room night after night to attract the attention of wealthier people, because obviously they would be in that vicinity.
"Now this is not hearsay. This is what is being told me over and over again. And eventually she did attract the attention of one Alfred Kassab, who is by all means a reasonably attractive man. His family was wealthy—he came from the South, as I understand—and he and Mildred were genuinely attracted to each other. I am not disputing that.
"And then they got married. And when they got married—and this was told me over and over again by that family—Freddy's mother was insane with rage and decided that she would cut him out of her will. And because of this, Mildred and Freddy— mostly Mildred—would talk incessantly to me about how they were going to work to declare his mother incompetent at the time of that will. Because they wanted their rightful share, and they were accustomed also, of course, to money.
"Again, this may sound a little too strong, but there were times, sir, in her conversation when everything looked very good and we were all together and there was no tragedy yet—there were times when my feeling was that their concern was much more for Jeff than for Colette.
"Mildred tended to apologize for Colette. I found her to be an entrancing girl. Sometimes she looked a little harassed, but it was mostly, I felt, that she felt she wasn't managing very well. I was aware of her faults and they made us understand each other better.
"But, by the same token, I really feel that one of the things that made everything okay in their eyes was the fact that Jeff was going to be a doctor. I have a feeling that they felt very well protected by the fact that there was going to be someone to lean on. Now that may sound severe, harsh, or whatever. But I honestly feel that when Jeff made the decision to move to California, that was the beginning of their disenchantment.
"Also, let me tell you that from day one, February 17th, when we arrived, Mr. Kassab made some really strong statements about how he was going to pursue this case down to the end of his days.
"And I realize that we all handle our grief and our anger in different ways, and this statement by itself is an understandable one, but by the same token he also feels he has to, like, prove this to his wife, who is the one behind him, like making the spitballs, and he is throwing them. I really think he has been pressured in this way."
"When was it that you first traveled to California and visited your son?" Woerheide asked.
"I went probably in August of the first year when he was there. I went again in February." (This would have been within days of February 15—the evening on which Freddy Kassab had spent two hours explaining to Dorothy MacDonald how he had come to believe her son guilty of murder.) "I felt that was probably going to be a bad time for him as it is for all of us always. Always Christmas and February are very bad."
"What is his lifestyle out there?"
"Well, he works very hard, and that has sort of been the story of his life. He does socialize. He entertains at home a great deal because that has always been a style of his life. He has always been a good host. He has a boat. I have enjoyed being on it. It is a very refreshing experience to be back on the water. That, again, was part of our lifestyle."
"So you feel he had adjusted well to California?"
"Yes, and I remember being very impressed by it myself. It was sunny, the people were kind, traffic seemed to flow in a nice way, and things seemed logical. Roads led somewhere. In other words, they have better—it just seemed to me that people were very nice. There was a calm approach to life, there was a joyfulness, people looked healthy. People seemed to be tan, brown, kind.
"I was depressed and it appealed to me. So I went back and actually looked for a little house and found one and felt that it would be nice to be able to retire here because you could pull in with a car to a station and you have a knock in your motor, the man would raise the hood and he'd fix it and you'd say how much do I owe you and he would say, Tor what? Fifteen minutes?' And I'd think this is a whole new way of life. It was really very pleasing."
"Well, since he's been in California, has he talked to you at all about the night of February 16 and 17 or does he put that out of his mind and tal
k about other things?"
"I think we talk about the pain of loss."
"But apart from the time when he testified before the Article 32 hearing, that's about the only time that he sat down in your presence—"
"—and told the whole story. That is correct, sir. And I've never probed. I'm sure that some people think that may be very strange. But I felt that there were enough people asking questions, and that I, in a sense, you know—"
"Since the FBI and the CID were asking questions, it was superfluous on your part?"
"It seemed to be that there were people who were asking questions."
"Mrs. MacDonald, before we close, do you have any comments that you wish to make to the grand jury? If there is something I haven't inquired into that you think should be brought to their attention?"
"No, except I am sorry that they have been imposed upon, because I feel that essentially we've been through a grand jury hearing before."
"Well, this is not an imposition, Mrs. MacDonald. There are three dead people."
"I understand that very well."
The Philadelphia psychologist who had administered the tests to Jeffrey MacDonald in 1970 and who had found "no sign of either psychosis or psychopathic tendencies" was called to testify.
Victor Woerheide first asked him how it had come about that he had been called upon to examine MacDonald.
"In a rather unusual way," the psychologist said. "The defense attorney, in an effort to help prepare a potential defense, requested that Captain MacDonald be examined by a forensic psychiatrist in Philadelphia with whom I had worked on previous occasions. The purpose, as I understood it, was to show that he was not mentally ill. The crime, apparently, was of such a nature, as it was explained to me, that it was highly likely that someone who was fairly disturbed would have committed it. And one line of reasoning that the defense was pursuing was to show that Captain MacDonald was not so disturbed.
"So I was not being asked to examine him to determine whether he was not guilty by reason of insanity or anything like that, but simply to see if there was any sign of emotional illness or maladjustment or what his potential for extreme violent behavior was."
"How many days did you see him?"
"Only on one day."
"Is this the ideal procedure?"
"I would prefer to see a subject over several days, but in this case I remember that there was a great hurry about getting the whole thing done, and the subject could not be provided over several days."
"I assume that in conducting the type of examination you conducted, you first have to establish a certain rapport with the subject?"
"Yes, and the difficulty in establishing rapport with someone like this is to initially convince him that you are indeed working for his defense. I mean, you have to reassure him that it is important he explain himself as frankly and openly as possible.
"It was particularly difficult in this case because Captain MacDonald was a very intellectualizing fellow. He thought things out a lot in his head and was always anticipating and worrying and concerned about what might happen next and what would be the results of what he would say. I suppose that's sort of an appropriate concern, but it stood in the way of getting him to open up, frankly.
"So I spent some time with him pointing out that what he told me he was telling me in confidence—that the information would be communicated only to his attorney and the psychiatrist employed by his attorney, and that it was very important that he discuss things with me as frankly and openly as possible.
"He was concerned because he said the incident was very much on his mind, and he was afraid that the fact that it was would influence his test results and might suggest that he had committed the crime.
"I said, on the contrary, if he attempted to keep such information out, it would certainly look as if he were being evasive. As we went into the examination it seemed fairly clear that he had taken my advice. His responses were quick. They did not suggest that he was being carefully reflective, thinking ahead of what he was going to say. He showed no indications, in other words, of planning ahead in what he was saying and trying to make himself look good. Instead, he seemed to be speaking quickly, openly, frankly, and without reserve."
"Now can you tell us what your general observations were with respect to Captain MacDonald?"
"Besides his concern that his preoccupation with what had happened might influence the test results, what struck me first was that he was the sort of person who initially comes across as very self-possessed. This is a man who doesn't turn to other people for help with his problems. This is a man who can work things out for himself.
"So he denies any emotional difficulties, any complaints. Many individuals, if you ask, 'Have you ever had any problems of getting along?' would say, 'Well, occasionally, yes.' Captain MacDonald tended not to do that. He seemed to be the sort of person if you came up to him on the street at any time he would tell you things are going fine.
"He seemed quite naive psychologically. Some people with no training or education are very sensitive and quick to think in psychological terms and know how people are thinking and feeling. He was not this sort of person. In spite of the fact that he had completed college and medical school, he was not an insightful—he was a very bright person but not a person who understood how the mind works and how people think. He was really quite dumb in that regard.
"He seemed to come across as a person who had very little understanding of his own behavior. And this made me feel that more than most people, Captain MacDonald would not be very good at subtly or cleverly or consistently hiding features about his personality. He was too naive to do that.
"You know, if you have any smarts psychologically and a psychologist asks you, 'Do you have any problems at all?' you know you are not supposed to say, 'Oh, no, Doc. No problems at all.' You're supposed to say, 'Well, yeah, you know, like anybody, I have occasionally.'
"He didn't have that kind of smarts. It made me feel that this was a person who was not going to have the sophistication to evade things cleverly.
"Once he actually began the tests his responses were very quick, almost impulsive. There was no indication whatsoever that he was trying to conceal or hide things that came up. In fact, in the actual content of his test responses, material came up that was clearly related to the incident. And so, overall, there was certainly no indication whatsoever that he was attempting to conceal his thoughts about the deaths or to convince me in any way of his innocence.
"And the overall results—just looking at the whole works— falls broadly within normal limits. In other words, there is no particular thing on any of the tests that jumps out at you as a strikingly abnormal finding.
"On the MMPI, for example, there is one scale that approaches the abnormal range but doesn't quite get there. You and I probably have ones that approach the abnormal range and don't get there either. Might even have a few over it. Which may or may not mean anything.
"Actually, the fact that they are all within normal limits is in itself unusual. Of all the people that I have ever seen who have been accused of violent crimes, it's pretty unusual that—I suppose because in most instances, even on the cases where they've been found not guilty, they had an adjustment such that there was reason to believe that they might have done it. In other words, there were some abnormal features in their adjustment.
"Now, the main thing that came across about Captain MacDonald is that basically this guy—and if you talk to him you're going to find this hard to believe—basically this guy is a very passive, dependent guy with marked feelings of inadequacy.
"But this is all concealed by a surface where he presents himself as adequate, competent, in control, perfectly well adjusted, and always at ease and ready to handle whatever comes up.
"So there is this sort of shell of adequacy or competency, but inside, these marked feelings of not being assertive enough, not being adequate, having real doubts about himself.
"And all this is very much unc
onscious. Like, if you asked him, 'Welt, underneath you really are sort of worried about yourself, huh?' you would really get him up in the air because he would say, 'What do you mean?'
"He might get threatened if he worried about you, but if you were a person that he could sort of put down, he would have no hesitation to say, 'What are you talking about?'
"So it's this contrast between the way he presents himself and what comes across unconsciously as you begin to spend time with him and test him and talk with him and work with him.
"For example, on the MMPI, the highest scale—the one that's approaching the abnormal range—is the masculinity-femininity scale. And he is scoring rather in the feminine direction, which doesn't mean homosexuality or anything like that, but men who score in the feminine direction are men who are usually somewhat passive, not terribly direct or assertive, people who, when they are angry or upset would express their feelings in somewhat more passive ways. They might, for example, be sarcastic rather than directly argumentative.
"To give you another example, here's a TAT story. He sees a picture of a boy looking at a violin, and he is asked to tell the story about it. Generally, on all the TAT stories you say, Tell me what led up to what is going on now, how it comes out, and how the people are thinking and feeling.
"Okay. It's just a boy looking at a violin. It's purposely made so you can't say exactly what's going on. You have to make it up.
"Now, he says, This is a little boy who is getting ready to practice his violin.' He didn't have to say, 'little' boy. Why did he use the word little?
" 'He's getting ready to practice his violin. He's a little annoyed.'
"Okay, now some of you probably would see this boy as annoyed; some of you might see him as pleased. But for Captain MacDonald the boy is a little annoyed. 'He'd rather be doing something else. He's had it a number of months and is barely adequate.'
"Now where is that coming from in this picture? 'He's had it a number of months and is barely adequate.' I'm trying to present this in a way that is pretty straightforward, you know. One can dwell on psychoanalytic interpretations of this material and see the violin as a symbol for the male sexual organ and all this sort of thing, but that's getting pretty hot and heavy. And I think the point gets across without getting into all of that.
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