By AMANDA KIMBLE
TheFlashToday.com
Editor’s Note: This story is the product of a one-on-one interview between Staff Writer Amanda Kimble and Maria DonJuan, a local victim of continuous sexual assault. The story at times uses the first-person tense and is intended to be read as factual editorial, not a news report.
(February 23, 2017) – I wasn’t sure if she had been reading my stories. First when her attacker was indicted or coverage throughout the trial. In my reports she had another name, I wasn’t sure what to call her in the story that follows.
As I introduced myself, tears trickled down my face. Human, but unprofessional. I apologized.
“You can use my real name, I don’t need to hide,” Maria DonJuan said. “I’m not ashamed anymore, I’m not afraid.”
The day before she agreed to speak with me, my reports had referred to Maria as “Chrystal Waters,” a pseudonym, a common approach when reporting on sexual assault cases.
I sat through the two-day trial, sharing news from inside the courtroom, providing as much detail as possible to readers. For some readers, the details are too much. But I believe they’re important. There are people in the community who have suffered, who are suffering.
People like Maria.
From the get-go, I realized she was – is – much stronger than me. I was flooded with emotions, silently weeping at times – not so silently at others. Like Maria, I’m a woman, a daughter, sister, aunt and mother, and this case – one of far too many sexual assault cases – hit close to home. Painfully close.
During closing statements, District Attorney Alan Nash said Victor Moreno Colunga had stolen Maria’s virtue and innocence. He was right. Colunga was a thief. A dirty, rotten, evil criminal.
But, the prosecutor didn’t say the pursuit of justice can be slow. It’s at times reliant on irrefutable evidence and more often prevails when victims are willing to take the stand and stare into the face of evil.
Such it was in Maria’s case. She’s a harbinger of justice. She had proof. She’s still standing tall.
As Maria spoke from the witness stand in the 266th Judicial District Court, she faced her attacker. It was the same face that stared her down years ago. Colunga is a stout man, about an inch shy of six feet tall and weighing more than 255 pounds.
Maria recounted memories of abuse – his words, his actions. She was so young at the time, and Maria had to have been dwarfed by attacker.
Not now. He was the one cowering over a table, flanked by an interpreter and his court-appointed defense attorney.
Maria’s testimony remained clear and factual. Her voice remained strong, only cracking while sharing vivid details of a particularly painful attack in August 2005.
Listening to her testimony, I instantly felt a sense of admiration. As a reporter, I have observed many sexual assault trials. Too many. I’ve seen strength of many victims – girls and young women. But, Maria’s story and strength was like nothing I had seen before.
I have personally known others who have suffered and never been given the opportunity to stand up for themselves.
This case was different.
Maria was just 10 years old when Colunga came into her life, her mother’s new boyfriend. Maria said Colunga revealed his evil intentions “right off the bat.”
She recounted memories from about three years of continual sexual abuse – forced, brutal rape – and the birth of an initially unwanted child.
While her attacker would ultimately receive the maximum 20 years of confinement with eligibility for parole, Maria would live with the memories forever.
Still, there was – is – a confidence about Maria, one I needed to understand – a sense of peace I wished could be bottled up to share with other victims.
“I have the truth on my side, and I am confident in that,” she said following the proceeding.
Instantly, I knew Maria’s story, parts of her present and past that hadn’t been revealed to the jury, needed to be shared.
Could we inspire others to be as courageous? Can we tell them that they’re not alone, there’s always someone who cares? Could she tell them that life can – and will – go on? Could we let other victims know justice is possible and they have the power to stand up, fight and refuse to go unheard?
We can. They do.
Maria is now 26 years old. She is a mother of three, raising her children, ages 10, 6 and 2, on her own. She works a full-time job and recently received a promotion.
Maria has a big, beautiful smile and eyes overflowing with understanding, sympathy and love. She’s at peace. She’s grateful. She is living – for herself and others.
She’ll tell you that wasn’t always the case. Maria was at times was ready to give up and believed death was the only way to escape her personal hell. She lived in fear, anger and desperation. She felt alone in a crowded house.
As a child, she had been victimized in her own home while her siblings slept nearby, her mother was in a room just down the hall and Colunga’s family members were also there.
“I have always said what happened to me was the worst thing that could happen to a child,” Maria said.
The worst included outcries to her mother, who refused to believe her.
Maria hadn’t known her attacker for long before Colunga, her mother’s boyfriend and soon-to-be husband, started making unwanted advances. He attempted to teach her how to French kiss when she was just 10 years old. Then there were comments about her body. Colunga enticed her to get money from his pocket, forcing her hand to stroke his unclothed penis.
Nobody seemed to care.
By the time she was 13, Colunga was holding Maria down and raping her.
How could everyone be unaware?
Making an outcry is never easy. But, Maria was strong. She knew from the beginning the kissing, touching was wrong. Maria wanted and needed to be heard. She tried from the beginning, prior to being raped. She kept trying.
Colunga – like most predators – said she was lying, trying to destroy his relationship with her mother. He said Maria was a spiteful, hateful child trying to sabotage the family.
Pedophiles groom children, raise victims. They also groom their wives, children and anyone else who might grow suspicious.
“I love my mom, none of this is her fault,” Maria said. “She was only trying to be a good wife; I cannot blame her.”
After more than two years of sexual abuse, Maria learned she was pregnant. She was only 15.
Following previous outcries, it could have been assumed she had been telling the truth about being raped. Instead, the belief was that she was no more than a promiscuous teenager, hiding indiscretions with an unnamed boyfriend.
She didn’t correct them. She didn’t tell her family things she would later tell a jury; they wouldn’t believe she never engaged in consensual sex, never made love. She had been raped – repeatedly.
At that point, it didn’t matter what anyone thought. She was six months pregnant, understandably overwhelmed with sadness, fear, shame, anger and anxiety. The thought, the reality made her sick.
Then she had a baby – a little girl. The infant’s entrance into the world wasn’t a celebration. The child, like the acts that conceived her, had been forced upon Maria. She had no desire to cuddle, nurse or love.
“I didn’t know it then, but she was sent to save me,” Maria told me. “To save us.”
That little girl, now 10 years old, is in fact a savior. She not only taught Maria how to love, she helped seal the case against Colunga.
DA Nash referred to the Maria’s daughter as “living, breathing proof” Colunga was pedophile.
“If not for her, he could be walking the streets, doing what he does,” Maria said, adding her child understands how she was conceived. “She is wise beyond her years, and I tell her every day God sent her to me as prize for my suffering. He made me love her, learn to love.”
The investigation didn’t really begin until 2010 when Jason Cashon, who was district attorney at the time, handed it over to Texas Ranger Danny Briley.
Colunga denied raping Maria. He denied all sexual contact.
But, Maria’s daughter held something he couldn’t deny. Briley obtained DNA evidence that offered staggering statistics, proving Colunga was the father of Maria’s daughter.
Colunga was 31 years old when the child was born. Four days earlier, Maria’s mother gave birth to a little boy who was also his son.
Initially, Maria denied her child. The family passed the two newborns off as twins.
Then one day, when her baby girl was a few months old, Maria had a change of heart. Her brother accidently dropped the child. The baby was not injured, but Maria, like any mother, reacted with care and concern.
At that moment, she realized her daughter needed her and a mother’s love and protection.
“What I went through was the worst, but it opened my eyes to how I had to protect my own child and never let a predator, or any other hurt, come her way,” she said. “None.”
Maria left her family’s home at the age of 18. A short time later, she reported the abuse to police.
At some point during the investigation Colunga was deported, further slowing the pursuit of justice.
“I found out I wasn’t his only victim,” Maria said, adding something she couldn’t say in court.
She wanted justice for herself, but she also wanted to protect others. The nurturer within her surfaced again, this time to save her younger sisters. Their secret had remained bottled up. They were afraid nobody would believe them, that they, like Maria, would be labeled liars.
“How could he not only do that to me, but also to my little sisters?” she questioned. “That’s what convinced me he wasn’t going to get away with it.”
Her sisters were in the courtroom when the guilty verdict was read and Colunga was sentenced.
“It was a victory for myself and my sisters, they are why I pushed it,” she said. “I had to be the one, I had the living proof.”
Before Colunga was ushered from the courtroom, Maria made brief statement, addressing him directly with a fiery mix of courage and strength.
“I have finally received justice,” she said. “It took a long time.”
Maria told him there were times she had lost hope. He had ruined her childhood. But, she was no longer afraid of the man who once held her prisoner.
He’s the prisoner now.
But, Maria said his confinement isn’t the beginning of her healing.
“Healing started a while ago, over a period of time,” she said, adding the biggest progression to peace came about six years ago. “I decided to have another child, decided that I was going to plan, chose to have a baby and give birth.”
She was ready for the next phase of motherhood and at 20 years old, ready to move on with her life and as a person.
“That’s when the healing really started,” Maria said. “Today is more about relief and thankfulness.”
When I told her she was an inspiration, a look of surprise flooded Maria’s face. She had never heard those words. She was grateful, glad to be seen as a “warrior.”
“I never really thought of myself like that,” she said.
Maria is a warrior and she can also offer advice to girls, women, or anyone else caught in a cycle of abuse.
“To other victims, I would say that is worth coming out,” Maria said. “My case shows you might not get listened to right away, but if you keep crying out and keep your hopes out of the dark, you will eventually find the light to justice. You will find the light in your soul. Believe me, it’s worth it.”
She would also tell them that they don’t need luck.
“They need to have faith, because the truth is on their side,” she said.
In Erath County and the surrounding area, there is an organization here to help.
Cross Timbers Family Services provides services to adult and child survivors of domestic violence, stranger and non-stranger sexual assault, child abuse and other violent crimes.
Services include: crisis intervention; a 24-hour hotline; medical, legal and judicial accompaniment; emergency shelter; safety planning; individual and group therapy; assistance with protective orders and crime victims’ compensation; personal advocacy; and information and referrals.
No appointment necessary for immediate face-to-face crisis intervention and advocacy services. Crisis intervention and advocacy are available during regular business hours – 9 a.m. until 5 p.m., Monday through Friday) at the CTFS office, located at 1794 N. Graham Street in Stephenville.
Crisis intervention and advocacy are available during non-business hours via hotline, for more information call 866-934-4357. All services are free and confidential.
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