On October 6, 2025, the halls of the Outagamie County Courthouse in Appleton, Wisconsin, were lined with eight striking red silhouettes. These figures weren’t just art—they stood as silent sentinels, each representing a life lost to domestic violence within the community. The display, a collaboration between multiple Fox Valley advocacy groups, the Outagamie County District Attorney’s Office, and Harbor House (a local domestic abuse support program), was more than a symbolic gesture. It marked the fifth anniversary of the passage of Marsy’s Law in Wisconsin, a landmark act granting crucial rights to crime victims, and coincided with Domestic Violence Awareness Month.
“Some of the rights that we are highlighting today are the right to know your rights, the right to be heard, the right to be treated with dignity and respect, the right to be notified and so on,” Nela Kelpic, state director of Marsy’s Law for Wisconsin, told FOX 11. The event was designed to ensure victims not only know these rights but also have the resources and support to assert them. Each silhouette was accompanied by links to further information for those seeking help or wanting to understand victims’ rights and the organizations involved.
For Tracy Plamann of Harbor House, the silhouettes carried a heavy emotional weight. “The silhouettes represent, for us, people that we’ve lost,” Plamann said. “Victims that have lost their lives to domestic violence. And so, each program, most of our programs, have their own silhouette to represent lives that have been lost in their community.” The message was clear: while the display would last only a day, the fight for victims’ dignity and safety is ongoing.
Yet, even as Wisconsin marked progress in victim advocacy, stories from elsewhere in the Midwest revealed the persistent, systemic challenges facing survivors of domestic violence and stalking. In Salina, Kansas, a case that drew national attention underscored just how far the criminal justice system still has to go.
Shawn Koch’s ordeal began in August 2024, after she separated from her husband of nearly two decades, Christopher L. Koch. The end of their relationship was anything but peaceful. Despite obtaining a protection order, Shawn received over 1,000 threatening messages from Christopher—emails, texts, and voicemails that spanned from August 2024 until spring 2025. Some messages were chillingly graphic. One email included a photo of a dead body, accompanied by the warning: “This was the last person that made me chase them. Don’t make me chase you.”
Shawn did everything the system asked of her. She reported every threat, handed over her phone, forwarded evidence, and even moved and went into hiding. But the response from law enforcement was slow. Police took months to arrest Christopher, during which time the threats escalated: he claimed to be tracking her car, threatened to contact her employer, and even shared nude photos of her online without her consent. Flyers with her contact information and offers of sexual acts for money began circulating online.
“I’m gonna torture you,” Christopher wrote in one email. “I’m gonna put you through pure … hell. I’m gonna try to cleanse you … (while) you’re sitting there suffering (in) all that pain, I’m going to pour gas on you and (light) you on (fire)—the cremation part for the burning … that you deserve. … I’ll be in town tomorrow. I look forward to meeting you.”
Eventually, Christopher was charged with more than 180 counts—ranging from stalking to violating a protection order, and sharing pornographic images without consent. But the case took a shocking turn: the Saline County district attorney’s office offered Christopher a plea deal, dropping the charges down to just three counts of stalking. The prosecutor responsible for the deal was later fired, but the agreement remained in place.
Shawn, understandably, was left feeling betrayed by the system. “I did everything they asked me. I got a (protection order). I moved. I went into hiding. I didn’t tell anybody where I was,” she told The Beacon. Despite the mountain of evidence and the severity of the threats, Christopher was released on bond while awaiting trial. “The price on me, on my life, on my head, is $3,000,” Shawn said. “That’s all they put … to protect me from somebody who has threatened to kill me.”
Experts say Shawn’s case is not an outlier, but rather a stark illustration of the gaps in the criminal justice system’s response to domestic violence and stalking. Survivors, they argue, often feel unheard and unprotected, with law enforcement and prosecutors struggling to keep pace with the complexity and urgency of these cases. Justin Boardman, a former officer and investigator now specializing in domestic abuse training, told The Beacon, “The abuser (thinks) that nobody’s going to touch them, nobody’s going to stop them, nobody’s going to try to do anything to curb the behavior.”
Data backs up these concerns. According to a study by the Homicide Research Group at the University of Gloucestershire, stalking was present in 94% of homicides involving female victims and male perpetrators in the UK between 2012 and 2014. The Washington Post found that nearly half of women murdered in 47 major U.S. cities were killed by intimate partners, and over a third of those men had restraining orders or prior convictions for domestic abuse.
In Shawn’s case, police did use some best practices, including lethality assessments and prioritizing her case. They increased patrols during court dates and encouraged her to work with a domestic violence advocate. But communication was inconsistent, and the investigation was bogged down by the sheer volume of digital evidence. “You know (protection orders) don’t work,” Christopher taunted Shawn in another email. “You know court orders don’t work.”
Jane Anderson, a senior attorney adviser at AEquitas, emphasized to The Beacon that specialized responses and trauma-informed practices are critical. “These cases are not like other cases,” she said. “Specialized responses are key.” Michelle McCormick, executive director of the Kansas Coalition Against Sexual and Domestic Violence, added that the system is often structured to protect the rights of the accused over those of the victim. “The criminal justice system is designed to protect the rights of abusers, not the victims,” she said. She called for more training, systemic changes, and survivor-focused practices.
Back in Wisconsin, the red silhouettes at the courthouse were taken down after just one day, but the message lingers. “We are empowering victims to reach out, to ask questions and to remember that they are not alone, and that there are so many people in their corner working day in, day out, to ensure that they are treated with dignity and respect,” Kelpic said.
As communities across the country reflect during Domestic Violence Awareness Month, the stories of survivors like Shawn Koch and the ongoing advocacy in places like Appleton serve as a sobering reminder: progress has been made, but the work is far from finished. The fight for true justice and safety for victims of domestic violence continues, one case—and one silhouette—at a time.