Justice Denied at AFMX 2013: Military Sexual Assault Advocacy, Faith, and Survival in Albuquerque
June 8, 2013 — Albuquerque, New Mexico | By Jen Norris
Author’s note: This is my first-person account, reconstructed from my memories, photographs, and the records I have published over the years. I will present the remaining messages and screenshots in chronological order. I distinguish what I witnessed from what I came to believe later.
Why I Went to Albuquerque
On June 8, 2013, I walked into Albuquerque’s historic KiMo Theatre for the premiere of Justice Denied at the inaugural Albuquerque Film and Media Experience. I had been interviewed for and featured in the documentary. I had traveled to New Mexico because male survivors of military sexual assault deserved to be heard, and I wanted to support the people who had trusted the filmmakers with their stories.
That purpose was personal to me. I have an alienated late father, four brothers, and a husband, and I have seen how easily conversations about sexual assault and domestic violence leave men out. A film centered on their experiences could help an audience understand the shame, fear, and institutional barriers that kept many of them silent. I also wanted time to explore Albuquerque, a city I had quickly grown to love. My earlier article about the festival and film explains why its mission mattered to me.
A preview published before the premiere also described the filmmakers’ hope that the documentary would bring greater attention to male survivors.
I arrived with advocacy work of my own underway. In January, I was asked to testify before the House Armed Services Committee about bias, conflicts of interest, and abuse of authority in the military justice system. I spoke for male and female survivors and recognized families still seeking answers about non-combat deaths, murder, and suicide. Those concerns are now a part of my public record.
On May 16th, I stood with Senators Kirsten Gillibrand and Susan Collins and other survivors at the public introduction of the Military Justice Improvement Act. The original proposal would have moved decisions to prosecute most serious crimes out of the chain of command and into the hands of experienced military prosecutors, with exceptions for uniquely military offenses. Its scope mattered to me: service members harmed by sexual assault needed a fair path to justice, and so did victims of other serious crimes. Senator Collins’s announcement named me among the survivors present.
I knew what it felt like to seek accountability inside an institution that controlled the process. That is why a public challenge to the MJIA, only weeks after its introduction, would land so hard.
The Boundary I Set Two Days Before the Premiere
This was my second trip to Albuquerque that year. After an unsettling experience during my March visit, I returned in June with my own hotel room, a rental car, a friend traveling with me, and my service dog, Onyx. I could support the documentary while making my own decisions about where I went and whom I spent time with. Onyx was still new to my life, but she was already helping me move through places that once felt overwhelming.
On June 6, my friend and I had plans and work to do. Michael Matthews called and asked me to pick up Jeremiah Arbogast at the airport. I said no. I was busy, and I had not agreed to be anyone’s driver. At the time, I regarded it as an ordinary decision about my schedule.
That evening, we went to a dinner for documentary participants. I wanted to meet the men connected to the film and continue showing support. When I introduced myself to Arbogast, I experienced his response as an angry snub. I was confused by the intensity of it. From my perspective, I had done nothing to him except decline an airport pickup.
My friend and I stayed focused on why we were there. I had traveled across the country to support survivors, and a cold reception would not erase that purpose. I have written about the airport request, my refusal, and the dinner in more detail.
Watching the Film and Defending the Bill
On premiere night, we showed up at the KiMo Theatre. We watched Justice Denied. Whatever tension I had felt at dinner, the men who shared their experiences on screen deserved an audience willing to listen. I wanted the film to succeed in bringing their stories into the open.
Then came the question and answer period. During it, Matthews attacked the MJIA in front of the audience. When I looked toward him, Matthews and Arbogast appeared angry to me. I remembered a May phone call in which Matthews had told me he did not think the bill was the answer and said people considered me a “media whore.” I had recorded that call in a timeline I published in February 2014.
Hearing the bill challenged in that room triggered me. Another film participant and I had fought for it and helped bring survivors’ voices to its introduction just three weeks earlier. I had put my name, my history, and my hope for meaningful reform behind that work. It was a first step.
I kept my composure and stood up to defend the MJIA. I cannot give readers a word-for-word transcript of the exchange, but I know why I spoke. The original bill offered a way to take a consequential decision out of a chain of command that could have its own interests in the outcome. I believed survivors deserved that first step toward a fairer process, and I was willing to say so in the room.
Afterward, we took a photograph with Onyx in front of the AFME wall and left the theatre. That picture remains part of the day for me. Onyx was beside me, and I had stood up for something I believed in.
One Drink After the Premiere
The after-party was at a bar down the street. My friend and I went in, sat at a table by ourselves, and had one drink. The atmosphere was pleasant enough, and we wanted to show support before heading out.
What I remember most clearly, though, is feeling isolated. At one point, I looked over and saw Arbogast, Matthews, and Susan Avila-Smith looking in our direction. I read their expressions as angry. I could not know what they were thinking or saying, and I did not understand the hostility I felt around us.
I had spent the trip praying, and I wore the diamond cross necklace I had bought in Santa Fe. Onyx’s presence throughout those days helped ground me. I had my friend, my own transportation, and a place to return to when the evening ended. Those things may sound small, but they mattered to someone who was trying to participate in advocacy while also protecting her health and sense of safety.
I left Albuquerque believing I had done what I came to do. I had supported the film, listened to the survivors, defended the bill, and respected my own boundaries.
1 Reasonable Boundary, 2 Angry Strangers, & the Smear Campaign That Upended My Advocacy Efforts
What Followed Me Home
I date the beginning of the smear campaign to June 9, the day after the premiere. After I returned to the Portland Jetport in Maine, I turned my phone back on and discovered a hateful tweet from Arbogast calling me a “bitch and a snob.” I blocked him. My February 2014 timeline records the tweet as a June event after the New Mexico trip. The timeline also records the later circulation of an unrelated local article containing my address and false accusations that followed. A guy claiming to be an “advocate” doxxed a crime victim to his large social media following.
That sequence is important to me. I had declined to give a false accuser a ride, experienced an angry reception, discovered an insulting public message, and cut off contact. I was trying to get away from a conflict I had never wanted. Seeing personal material circulated afterward made the experience harder to put behind me.
After months of internet beatdown and lies, someone who had participated in a November 2013 Facebook group discussion gave me a copy of it. In the conversation I later published, participants discussed gathering allegations, coordinating when to send messages, and contacting people or organizations in advocacy and media circles. Parts of that discussion concerned other advocates as well as me. Jeremiah Arbogast is an unhinged liar and was clearly obsessed with destroying me.
The impact on me was real even while questions about motive remained unanswered. I was living with brain injuries that had not been properly understood or treated. The hostility compounded the trauma I was already carrying. In my 2014 timeline, I wrote that the online targeting had significantly affected my PTSD and that I sought help from the VA. I had gone to New Mexico to support male survivors. Coming home to public insults and false accusations was painful and disorienting. Unfortunately, the bullying lasted for months and negatively impacted our health.
Trapped in an Abusive Chain of Command: What I Told ‘The World’ About Sexual Assault in the Military
Why I Am Putting the Record in Order
My research work on Military Justice for All has made me attentive to what can happen when vulnerable service members or veterans are treated as opportunities instead of people. The site documents Gary Prokop’s murder in a plot involving benefits and life insurance, Jack Irwin’s murder amid the theft of his money and property, and Richard Englander’s murder by a caregiver who sought access to his money. Each case has its own evidence and outcome but they explain why I take the exploitation of vulnerable people seriously.
Looking back, I believe declining the airport pickup may have protected me from a private encounter that could have been misrepresented or dangerous. What I know for certain is: I did not go to the airport, and I was never alone with Jeremiah Arbogast at the airport or in my rental car. I strongly believe they wanted me out of advocacy because I would not step aside from my work or the original scope of the Military Justice Improvement Act.
I will send my concerns and the records I have retained to federal officials because the coordination to set me up and the gang bullying was all conducted across state lines, making it even more difficult for me to hold the group accountable. As I continue writing, I will put the photographs, posts, and all communications in chronological order. The dates matter. So does the difference between what I witnessed, what I documented at the time, and what I came to believe later.
Here is what no one can take from June 8, 2013: I traveled to Albuquerque to support male survivors. I watched their film. I stood up for the MJIA. I took a picture with Onyx in front of the AFME wall. I said no when I needed to. And I made it home safely. Mission accomplished.
Sources and Related Records
- June 25, 1998 — Gary Prokop case — Military Justice for All.
- September 13, 1999 — Jack Irwin case — Military Justice for All.
- September 15, 2012 — Institutional Betrayal: How the U.S. Air Force and U.S. Navy Failed Victims Who Reported Sex Offenses by Superiors.
- January 23, 2013 — Jennifer Norris’s House Armed Services Committee testimony.
- March 6, 2013 — My First Full Day in Albuquerque, New Mexico: Excitement, Faith, and Warning Signs.
- March 7, 2013 — From ‘The World’ Radio Interview to Gang Bullying Three Months Later.
- May 16, 2013 — Senator Gillibrand’s announcement of legislation to reform the military justice system.
- May 16, 2013 — Senator Kirsten Gillibrand Leads Bipartisan Coalition to Reform the Military Justice System: Military Justice Improvement Act.
- May 20, 2013 — Senator Collins’s announcement naming Jennifer Norris among the survivors present.
- May 28, 2013 — “Justice Denied” Will Look at Sexual Assault and Rape Against Men in the Military — Social Workers Speak.
- June 3, 2013 — The Trip That Changed Everything: Jennifer and Onyx Fly to Albuquerque, New Mexico.
- June 3, 2013 — Justice Denied at AFMX 2013: Military Sexual Assault Advocacy, Faith, and Survival in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
- June 6, 2013 — A Brief Visit to Petroglyph National Monument in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
- June 6, 2013 — One Reasonable Boundary, Two Angry Strangers, an Internet Beatdown, and the Smear Campaign That Upended My Advocacy Efforts.
- August 15, 2013 — Trapped in an Abusive Chain of Command: What I Told ‘The World’ About Sexual Assault in the Military.
- November 17, 2013 — November 2013 Facebook discussion and Jennifer’s accompanying commentary.
- February 6, 2014 — Richard Englander case — Military Justice for All.
- February 27, 2014 — Jennifer’s timeline on Military Justice for All.
- May 6, 2024 — Military Injustice: The Story of Kamisha Block.
- May 31, 2024 — Maine Newspaper & Police Department Leaders Assist Abusive Police Officer in Dehumanization of Disabled Veterans During a Mental Health Crisis.
- July 4, 2024 — False Narratives with National Consequences: How Our Traumatic Past Was Weaponized Against Us.
- August 28, 2026 — From Excitement to Survival Mode: The Albuquerque Trip That Changed How I Trusted, Traveled, and Protected Myself.
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