for BigTrial.net
He shaved his wispy beard.
He wore a suit and tie.
And he was pretty damn forgetful.
During a deposition in his civil case against the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, as first disclosed on newsweek.com, Daniel Gallagher, AKA Billy Doe, the amazingly rape-prone altar boy, claimed he couldn't remember more than 130 times.
Gallagher's two full days of depositions were conducted on May 30, 2014, and June 20, 2014. The event was attended by a dozen lawyers and a videographer. The official transcript ran 572 pages, and, thanks to a deal between the archdiocese and Billy's lawyers, it was supposed to remain secret. The transcript has "Confidential" stamped on the top of every page.
One witness at the confidential deposition said it was obvious to everybody in the room that Gallagher was "a professional liar." Another witness went a step further, describing the plaintiff as "a fucking liar." But it didn't hurt Gallagher on his way to the bank. Philadelphia Archbishop Charles J. Chaput settled the case last August, a month before the Pope came to town, by paying Gallagher $5 million. Oh, they didn't want that disclosed either.
That's quite a payday for a guy who testified that he makes $11 an hour working for his grandfather's landscaping business down in Florida. At his deposition, Gallagher stated he put in "anywhere from 50 to 60 hours a week" working for Grandpop, earning "between 500 and $600 a week," or $20,000 a year.
The deposition began with Nick Centrella, the lawyer for the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, asking the questions.
Centrella asked Gallagher if he recalled reading an article by this writer that discussed Gallagher's medical records and the many false claims that Gallagher had made over the years to his many doctors and drug counselors about allegations of sex abuse.
"Yes, I do," Gallagher said.
"And do you remember seeing in there that -- at least he claimed that your medical records said that you had told medical providers that you had been abused by a friend at one point, a neighbor at one point," Centrella asked.
"I don't remember everything he wrote," Gallagher testified. "I don't try to pay attention to what he writes."
"Ok," Centrella said. "Regardless of when you knew it, is it -- would you agree with me that -- have you ever tried to contact him and say it's inaccurate?"
"No," Gallagher said.
There you have it folks, a personal endorsement under oath from Danny Gallagher. I've written many stories about Gallagher/Billy Doe over the years. And not once has he or his lawyers ever called or written, to ask for a correction.
Although they did send over a subpoena, trying to figure out where all those confidential records came from. But that little fishing expedition didn't go anywhere, thanks to Pennsylvania's Shield Law that prevents a reporter from having to name his sources.
At his deposition, as first disclosed in Newsweek, Gallagher stated he didn't remember claiming he'd been: sexually abused by a friend at 6; sexually abused by a neighbor at 6; sexually abused by a teacher at age 7; sexually molested at 6 or 8 by an unknown assailant; and sexually abused at 9 by a 14-year-old boy.
He did admit, however, under oath, that all of those previous accusations recorded by his doctors and drug counselors on medical records subpoenaed from some 28 different hospitals, drug clinics and doctors' offices weren't true, and never happened.
"Is it fair to say you never recall telling somebody that you were abused by a friend, correct?" Centrella asked.
"Right," Gallagher said.
"All right. So you -- you don't remember ever saying that, do you?"
"No," Gallagher said.
"However, if we see such things in your medical records, and this is one example of them, do you have any explanation for how those things wound up in your medical records?"
"They could have written it down wrong," Gallagher replied. "I don't know . . ."
"Do you know if you told them this?"
"I honestly don't remember," Gallagher said.
"Ok, were you were you ever sexually assaulted by a friend?"
"No," Gallagher said.
". . . OK, Do you remember ever telling anybody that you were assaulted at the age of 9 by someone who was 14 years old?"
"No," Gallagher said.
"Ok, did that ever happen?"
"No, it did not," Gallagher said.
"And again, you don't remember ever specifically lying to Northeast Treatment Center about your manner of abuse, do you?" Centrella asked.
"Not that I can remember," Gallagher said. "Not that I can recall. At that point in my life, I was high on drugs."
Gallagher also couldn't remember giving a lengthy statement to Louise Hagner, a social worker for the archdiocese, where he claimed he was: anally raped in the church sacristy for five hours by Father Engelhardt; beaten and knocked unconscious by Father Avery; tied up naked by Father Avery with altar sashes; and forced by Father Avery to suck blood off the priest's penis.
"Have you ever met Miss Hagner?" Centrella asked.
"Not that I can recall, no," Gallagher said.
At his deposition, Gallagher stated he also couldn't remember what he told the cops.
"In the notes of Detective [Drew] Snyder, he records that 'The fourth encounter . . occurs around July,'" Centrella said, reading from the records. "'Danny is serving a funeral mass with Father [Edward] Avery.' Do you recall ever telling any detectives, Detective Snyder in particular, at the District Attorney's office . .. that one of the encounters with Father Avery was after a funeral Mass?"
The problem here was that the church kept a register of funeral Masses. And the register showed that during the year Gallagher claimed to have been raped as a 10-year-old fifth grader at St. Jerome's after a funeral Mass, that Avery had never officiated at a funeral Mass the entire year.
"I might have," Gallagher said. " I can't say for sure. I don't really know."
"Ok," Centrella said, "Well, was it at a funeral mass?"
"No, it was not," Gallagher said.
"Was there any point in time at which you thought it was a funeral Mass?"
"I can't really be sure," Gallagher said. "I don't know."
At his deposition, Gallagher was also asked about a bunch of other stories that he told his doctors and drug counselors.
Thomas Hurd, a lawyer who represented the estate of the late Father Charles Engelhardt, asked Gallager about a line on a mental status exam that stated Gallagher's weight as 148 pounds.
"There is a notation here in the chart that he [Gallagher] had weighed 220 pounds," Hurd said. Then he asked disbelievingly, "Did you ever weigh 220 pounds?"
"I don't know if I ever got that high up," Gallagher replied. "But when I was in jail, I did gain a lot of weight, and I lost it as soon as I came out."
"Let's go down to the social history," Hurd said. "It says, 'He did work for three-and-a-half years as a paramedic with the private ambulance company.' Is that true?"
"Not entirely, no," Gallagher said.
"Well, you never were a paramedic, right?"
"No," Gallagher said.
"And you never worked for any ambulance company for more than a couple months, is that correct?"
"That is correct," Gallagher said.In the medical records of another clinic, it stated, "Patient was a paramedic and professional surfer before having to stop working due to addiction."
"Did you give them that history," Hurd asked.
"I might have," Gallagher said. "I don't really remember."
Gallagher told the lawyer he was an EMT.
"Ok," Hurd said. "You didn't tell them you were a paramedic, did you?"
"Not that I remember, no."
Did you tell them you were a professional surfer?"
"Not that I remember."
"Were you a professional surfer?"
Gallagher responded by claiming that he was sponsored as a professional surfer by some local surf shops down at the Jersey shore "when I was younger," but surprisingly, he couldn't remember the names of any of those surf shops.
"Did you ever earn any income as a surfer?"
"Not really, no."
"Did you have to stop surfing because of your addiction?"
"I -- hmm, honestly, I really don't know," Gallagher said. "My addiction kind of put a damper on my surfing."
"Why?"
"Because I was too busy wanting to get high rather than surf."
Maybe all that lying can be catchy.
At his 2014 deposition, Gallagher was asked about whether he had ever taken a polygraph test before. It was something that his lawyer would claim a year later in an interview with the Legal Intelligencer, a polygraph test that Gallagher supposedly passed, according to his lawyer, with "flying colors."
"Mr. Gallagher, have you ever taken a lie detector test about your allegations?"Hurd asked.
"No," Gallagher replied.
"Have you ever been asked to take one?"
"No, I have not," Gallagher said.
So, listen up, all of you convicts out there sitting in jail. It doesn't matter if you've got a long rap sheet for drug dealing and/or any other crimes. Here's how to get out of jail and make millions of dollars.
Especially if the state legislature listens to the wisdom of The Philadelphia Inquirer's editorial page, and does away with the statute of limitations for sex abuse victims.Tell your lawyer you just remembered you were raped by a Catholic priest a couple of decades ago. Or better yet, you were raped by a bunch of Catholic priests.
As Danny Gallagher has proven, it really doesn't matter how ridiculous your story is. Or whether you get all your facts straight the first, second, third or even fourth time around.
When it comes to putting Catholic priests in jail, our District Attorney, Seth Williams, has proven he will run with any old crazy story. And our archbishop, Checkbook Charlie, is ready to roll over too, even if it means throwing his own guys under the bus.
Once you hoist the flag of victimhood, the lunatics from SNAP will rally behind you. On this blog, even though they've never met you, and you may be a total freaking liar, goofballs like Dennis Ecker and Jim Robertson will back you up in the comments section with plenty of support. The Philadelphia Inquirer, a Pulitzer Prize winning newspaper, can also be counted on to write news stories and editorials on your behalf, without ever questioning your veracity.
Just think. Instead of being a junkie criminal loser, you too, can become a rich and famous victim like Danny Gallagher.
And if you get as far as a deposition in your civil case, just remember what to say whenever one of those smart-ass defense lawyers tries to trip you up on your way to the bank.
Be like Danny:
"I don't remember."
"I really don't remember."
"I honestly don't remember."