Baltimore County’s dilemma: Risk retraumatizing rape survivors, or lose $5.3 million?

A disagreement over how to notify survivors of sexual assault about decades-old DNA could cost Baltimore County $5.3 million in state funding.

The issue involves 1,400 pieces of sexual assault evidence collected by the Greater Baltimore Medical Center (GBMC) from 1977 to 1997. A coalition of county officials, hospital administrators and advocates for sexual assault survivors was tasked with processing and testing evidence that could solve years of backlogged cold cases.

Over the past year, the group notified about 150 survivors that the samples they gave to GBMC were tested for DNA evidence that could lead to arrests or convictions.

But county officials and advocates were divided over how to reach survivors.

Amanda Rodriguez, executive director of TurnAround Inc., the county’s rape crisis center, said the county has a responsibility to inform all survivors whose bodily fluids were collected by GBMC physician Rudiger Breitenecker — before DNA testing was even a concept.

County officials, though, feared that contacting victims with inconclusive results could unnecessarily retraumatize them.

That disagreement led the county to end its partnership with TurnAround and the Maryland Coalition Against Sexual Assault (MCASA).

State Sen. Shelly Hettleman, who said she was frustrated by the decision, added language to the state budget signed last month by Gov. Wes Moore that withholds the county’s $5.3 million in local police funding unless it notifies all victims whose 1,400 pieces of evidence have been tested.

“Nobody should have more information about someone’s body than they do,” the Pikesville Democrat said. “Survivors should have the autonomy to make decisions for themselves.”

But notifying survivors when their assailants’ DNA was not found or the test result was inconclusive could retraumatize victims, said Rebecca Young, the county’s deputy administrative officer overseeing the Baltimore County Police Department.

The county has the final decision in how to notify survivors. But officials have a difficult choice: They can do what they think is right, or they can have $5.3 million. But they can’t have both.

Historic missteps

For decades, survivors and their advocates accused the state’s attorney’s office and Baltimore County Police of mishandling sexual assault cases and survivors. A task force commissioned by former County Executive Johnny Olszewski Jr. in 2019 found that law enforcement was reluctant to pursue cases if women could not prove they physically resisted their assailants.

In 2022, the county and the state paid $100,000 to settle a lawsuit filed by Anna Borkowski, who claimed Baltimore County State’s Attorney Scott Shellenberger and detectives violated her First Amendment rights by showing up at her home to dissuade her from asking a district court commissioner to file sexual assault charges.

Shellenberger — who declined to charge the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, baseball players Borkowski said assaulted her — said he was trying to protect the woman. He said he did not want Borkowski to be charged with frivolous prosecution.

Processing the GBMC slides was supposed to be a turning point, Young said.

Breitenecker collected more than 2,200 forensic samples from survivors. County police began reviewing and investigating hundreds of those samples in 2005. The initial ones were selected because they were attached to cases that had the highest likelihood of being solved, Young said.

In April 2024, Olszewski committed to partnering with TurnAround and MCASA to test the remaining 1,400. By December of that year, thanks to $2 million in county, state and local funding — and another $500,000 from the Baltimore-based Hackerman Foundation — the county had tested the slides.

All that was left was to notify the survivors.

Notify all, or only some?

Baltimore County Police spokesperson Joy Lepola-Stewart said that about 1,100 of the DNA samples did not meet the legal requirements to be entered into the FBI’s database, which could match unknown DNA with known criminals. Officials were able to log only 180 DNA samples; another 100 are under review.

At issue was how to explain the limitations of 50-year-old forensic evidence to a survivor who might not recall giving a sample.

Young said she cautioned TurnAround against the “notify all” approach, arguing for nuance.

The county wanted to directly contact survivors only if there was a “change in case” — an opportunity to identify or prosecute a suspect, she said. Survivors who wanted information could contact the county by phone.

But Rodriguez said survivors deserved access to any and all test results from the slides, even if there was partial or no DNA.

“We’re basically making decisions for people in an attempt to like not hurt their feelings, or not trigger them,” she said. “We can’t be so patronizing. People have got to be able to make decisions for themselves. Survivors of sexual violence have had their consent stolen from them.”

In April 2025, two women were distraught after being notified that DNA testing of their decades-old evidence had not yielded any male DNA and called the Baltimore County Police Department. One said she’d left the trauma in her past and was incensed to have to relive it for no reason.

“They said, ‘Why would you ever do this to me?’” Young said. “‘Why would you do this to anyone?’”

After the two survivors complained to the police in April 2025, the county stopped notifying victims altogether — regardless of the results.

Tensions rose after Rodriguez wrote a letter on behalf of journalist Catherine Rentz, who filed a records request for additional information about the GBMC slide project. The request was denied.

After Young found out about the letter, she called Rodriguez to inform her that TurnAround was off the project, both women said.

Expert recommendations

Ilse Knecht, a national rape kit backlog expert, said the GBMC slide project is uniquely challenging, given the evidence’s age and the tension among advocates, police and prosecutors.

“We’re talking about almost historical trauma here, and knowing this system has never worked for survivors,” Knecht said.

As director of policy and advocacy for the Joyful Heart Foundation, Knecht develops survivor-centric reform with various jurisdictions. She favors a case-by-case approach.

“If you’re just notifying for the sake of notifying, and there’s nothing that can be done, you probably shouldn’t be doing that,” she said.

But others say cutting advocates out of the process only harms survivors.

“Willfully disregarding best practices or not seeking to repair relationships is not good practice and not victim-centered,” said Suzy Boylan, a retired prosecutor who handled sexual assault cases against University of Montana football players.

What’s next?

In March, Young replaced TurnAround and MCASA with a team from GBMC, led by forensic nurse examiner Laura Clary.

Young wants Clary to finish notifying all survivors whose test results could help solve their cases before the new fiscal year begins in July. That way, she said, she doesn’t have to comply with the budget language Hettleman added tying $5.3 million to the “notify all” approach.

Rodriguez is skeptical. She said that police spent months pulling information for the first 150 survivors TurnAround contacted last year, and that some may have moved, died or changed their names.

Young and Rodriguez acknowledge that the county has made great strides in handling sexual assault cases. But their difference of opinion could end up costing Baltimore County money that it needs.

“We’re not in the business of turning away state funding for local law enforcement,” Young said.