Tracy Doeman’s life changed forever the day her son, LeTrey Doeman, was taken from her. But what followed — a six-and-a-half-week Supreme Court trial that left her broken all over again — has become a burden no mother should ever have to bear.
In this second installment of Moms That Endure the Murders of Their Sons, Tracy speaks with brutal honesty and unshakable faith as she reflects on a trial that forced her to relive the night her son was murdered — over and over again.
“It has broken me again. I can say that. Because now I’ve got to figure out — how do I get justice? Because I’m not left with the question of who did this. I sat in that courtroom. I saw the videos. I read the evidence. I heard the lies.”
Tracy didn’t sit through the trial for closure. She didn’t sit there seeking revenge. She sat in that courtroom day after day because she believed in the process. She believed in truth. And she believed justice would follow.
• BUT JUSTICE DIDN’T COME
“I was told the other day that there is truth in every lie, and a lie in every truth. During this trial, the lie in the truth was believed over the truth in the lie.”
• THE VERDICT-NOT GUILTY
“It felt like I was punched in my gut. Not once. Four times. All I could do was remove myself. It was surreal. I maintained a humble heart because my only reason for being there was to see whoever did this to my son be held accountable.”
Her voice breaks as she remembers the moment that will haunt her forever.
“I had to relive it. I watched the video. I saw my son get shot in the back while running away. And then… they weren’t done. They got off the bike and shot him ten times. Ten. My son took his last breath in front of me, on a screen, while people argued over technicalities. I live with that now.”
And still, the trial plays on — in her mind, in her sleep, in her dreams.
“I keep having this dream for the past week and a half. I’m back in the courtroom. Just sitting there. I don’t know if I’m waiting for the right verdict, or if I’m looking for something I missed. But I keep going back.”
Despite the heartbreak, Tracy refuses to let grief consume her. Instead, she turns to her faith.
“Without God, I don’t know where I’d be. As I lean into Him, He gives me ideas. I have to figure out how we fix this. Because this — this hurts. And I don’t want another mother to feel this pain.”
She shares what it was like walking into that courtroom every morning, praying for strength, bracing for pain.
“I did my daily affirmations. I said, ‘God, you take this.’ And He did. That trial became something else for me. It became intriguing. Because I’m a person of truth — and I came for truth and justice.”
And though the outcome was not what she hoped for, she found a truth she could not deny.
“I want to say this loud and clear — I do not walk away from this trial wondering, ‘If they didn’t do it, and who did?’ I am confident and comfortable saying as the evidence suggested in the Supreme Court trial that two individuals are responsible for the death of my son, LeTrey Doeman.
She speaks directly to the families of the accused — not with hatred, but with conviction and clarity.
“You’ve told me to go on with my life. So do I. But the difference is — you still have your sons beside you. I didn’t put your sons in prison awaiting trial for two years. I didn’t put your sons on trial. I relied on the justice system, just like you would have if it were your child.”
• TRACY OFFERS A PLEA – AND A WARNING
“Please don’t intimidate me. Don’t harass me. I’ve been dealing with this since it happened, and I will not live my life in fear. Your sons got over. And to all four of you — God be with you. From my heart — God be with you.”
Tracy Doeman’s journey is far from over. The weight she carries is permanent. But in her grief, she finds purpose. In her pain, she finds God. And in her son’s memory, she finds a voice.
One that speaks not just for LeTrey — but for every mother still waiting for justice.
As the sun rises on another July 1st, a date now forever marked in grief, Tracy Doeman returns to a place she built with her own hands — a space to honour her son, LeTrey Doeman. For most, July 1st is just another day. But for Tracy, it is a reminder — of the night her world stopped, of the truth she sat through in court, and of the son she will never hold again.
This final portion of her story is not about the courtroom. It’s about the after. The living. The surviving. The enduring.
“How am I going to deal with it? The same way I have for the past three years — by going through it. I’ve learned you can’t get out of it if you don’t go through it.”
There is no shortcut through loss. No way to sidestep pain. Tracy walks through it daily — deliberately, quietly, with the weight of memory and the strength of resilience.
“You probably see my reality every day. I don’t have to go around Pembroke graveyard on July 1st to pay tribute to my son. I can come out here in my living room — any day, any time — just like we are now, and pay tribute to him. When this happened, I said, ‘My son is coming home with me.’ That’s why I made the decision to cremate him and build this for him.”
This memorial, tucked away from cameras and crowds, is her sanctuary — her sacred place. It exists not for show, but for healing.
“So now, we’ve got July 1st. We’ve got September 18th, his birthday. And now we have to add May 29th, the day of that verdict. These are dates that have been permanently marked by pain around the loss of LeTrey Doeman.”
• SHE PAUSES. THEN SAYS SOFTLY:
“That’s my method. I tell myself, Tracy — if you want to get out of it, you have to go through it. And so that’s what I do.”
Before she closes, Tracy has one last message — not just for herself, not just for her son, but for every mother who is enduring this same reality in silence.
“To all the mothers out there dealing with this — although I feel alone, I know that I’m not. This thing has happened to too many of us. I used to say, Lord, please don’t let this fall on me. And then it did.”
She takes a breath and calls on the country to stop looking away.
“We keep talking about fathers, fathers, fathers. But what about we mothers? Yes, fathers are often absent — but this can happen in single-parent homes, or in homes with both parents. Nobody is immune to this pain.”
And her final words land heavy — not just as a plea, but as a challenge to Bermuda.
“We need to stop making this a hot topic — a trending thing we talk about when headlines hit. We talk about it over coffee, by the water cooler, first thing in the office. Then we forget. Until it happens again.
And I hope — I pray — it don’t happen to you.
Because when it does… you’ll know.
You’ll understand.”
Tracy Doeman is not just the mother of a murdered son. She is the voice of every mother still waiting to be heard. Still standing in the gap between justice and peace. Still going through it — because she has no choice.
And on this day, July 1st, she reminds us all: grief doesn’t end when the verdict is read.
It begins there.
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