Heroin killed her brother. She wants his dealer to get a second chance
The Hennepin County courtroom had nearly cleared out on June 21. The families of five men who died after taking drugs supplied by Beverly Burrell had mostly left the gallery.
Burrell had just been sentenced to 23 years in the 2016 deaths of Nick Petrick, 29, and Spencer Johnson, 34 — the last of the third-degree murder cases prosecutors had brought against her.
Johnson’s sister, Shelley Roberts Gyllen, and her parents lingered in the courtroom while Burrell and her attorney signed paperwork. Burrell turned and noticed them. They made eye contact.
"She was surprised," said Roberts Gyllen. "I don't think she expected that we would still be there. But she mouthed the words, 'I'm sorry' to me. I mouthed back, 'Thank you.'"
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That brief moment — three years after Johnson's death and after several postponements of court
trials tied to Burrell’s prolific drug dealing — was a turning point for Roberts Gyllen, who says she wants to help Burrell get a second chance.
"I know it seems insane as I'm saying it," she acknowledged. “But, Beverly gets this chance to not have heroin have a part of her life, that my brother … didn't get."
Roberts Gyllen is now reaching out to Burrell, 33, who’s in the women’s state prison in Shakopee, hoping to help her turn around a life that was troubled before she became a major Twin Cities drug dealer. She said she wants to know if there's anything she can do to help Burrell avoid falling back into her old ways after prison.
While Burrell sold the heroin that killed her brother, Roberts Gyllen said she sees plenty of blame beyond the dealer to go around.
"While I'm angry that she sold these drugs to my brother, to Spencer, I'm more angry at the system that made her ... that pushed her into that option," said Roberts Gyllen. "And I don't know a lot about Beverly's life."
‘Most prolific drug dealer we’ve seen’
Burrell was convicted of five third-degree murders — Johnson, Max Tillitt, 21, Luke Ronnei, 20, Dustin Peltier, 31 and Nick Petrick, 29. She’s expected to spend the next 12 years in prison.
Born in St. Paul, Burrell is the oldest daughter of six siblings. In an interview from prison, she said her parents split up when she was little and that her mom used drugs but still provided for the family. Burrell said she was called on to help care for her siblings.
"I had to step in and was babysitting or cleaning and cooking and doing a lot of the other things that I probably shouldn't have been doing at 11 or 10 years old," she said. "Bearing that burden at a young age put a lot of pressure on me."
It would not be long before Burrell became a mother herself. She gave birth to her son when she was 14. Burrell and her baby lived in a shelter before she could find an apartment at the age of 16.
Through night programs, she finished her high school degree and tried to get by on a fast food job and other pursuits before starting to sell drugs. She said she did it to help her family, though she knew the risks, noting that two people in her extended family had died either from an overdose or addiction withdrawal.
Her dealing, however, evolved into more than a low-level pursuit to pay the bills. At the time of her arrest in 2016, police found more than $100,000 in cash and 27 grams of heroin in her Maplewood home.
A Hennepin County prosecutor described her as "the most prolific drug dealer we've seen."
Burrell said she’s remorseful about what happened to the victims of the heroin she sold, although she believes she’s being overly punished. Her sentences, she said, don't reflect the cooperative nature of the crime, adding that while she understands heroin is an addictive drug, her customers took part in the crime, too.
The families of her customers have differing opinions on her fate.
Tillitt’s father had urged the courts to be lenient with Burrell and focus more on rehabilitation than punishment.
Ronnei's mother Colleen had asked for a much longer sentence to help send a message to others who sell lethal drugs to stop now or face harsh penalties. Colleen Ronnei has since started a nonprofit group aimed at stemming the tide of the opioid addiction crisis by reaching out to middle school and high school students.
Peltier's mother, Carla, said she wanted Burrell to get a life sentence. Members of Petrick's family said Burrell's greed drove her to seek profit over the lives of the men she killed.
Johnson died April 3, 2016 of mixed heroin and fentanyl toxicity, according to the autopsy. Burrell said she didn't know the heroin she sold Johnson was mixed with the lethal synthetic opioid.
In court, Johnson's mother said she didn’t blame Burrell for her son’s addiction. She placed that responsibility on the pharmaceutical industry and doctors she said prescribed painkillers to treat sore throat pain while her son had mononucleosis in college, opening the door to a seven-year heroin addiction.
Roberts Gyllen said she’s angry at the prescribing doctors as well as the pharmaceutical industry for promoting the widespread use of the same powerful opioid painkillers. She said her brother warned his doctors that he was addicted but they still prescribed them.
Questions of race, class and privilege also permeate Burrell’s case.
Four of the five men who died, including Johnson, were white. Burrell is African American and believes race played a role in her punishment, although her lawyer never raised the issue at trial.
Roberts Gyllen said she is aware that Burrell likely had limited job prospects due to a lack of opportunities and racial barriers.
‘She knew my brother’
Looking back at her life, Burrell said she should have been more confident that she could have earned a living for her family without selling drugs. She said she wanted things that other people want, like owning a home and be comfortable financially.
"Sitting here and reevaluating everything — don't get me wrong, I still hold myself accountable for my choices I've made in my life. But I don't think the extent of the penalties that's been put on me ... is right."
In prison, Burrell is getting a cosmetology license and said she plans to open her own salon when she gets out in 2031.
She is also enrolled in a parenting from prison program designed to help keep incarcerated parents connected to their loved ones. She said her 13-year-old daughter visits her at the prison regularly. However, her son, who is now 20, has yet to come see her.
"He says, 'you know, mom, I'm going to want you to leave with me, and you can't leave with me,'" said Burrell. "So he's dealing with it the best way he can."
Burrell said her mother has also not come out to Shakopee to see her.
Roberts Gyllen wants to contact Burrell in an effort to learn more about her — and perhaps learn more about her brother.
Burrell recalled fond memories of Johnson, saying they had talked frequently about life and parenting during the time they knew each other.
"He loved his son," said Burrell. "But he also — he was a free spirit. He was just doing his own thing. And there was no way that you could stop him doing his own thing.”
Roberts Gyllen said she remembers her brother as a devoted father who loved baseball, playing the drums and being outdoors. As kids, Roberts Gyllen said the two siblings built homemade forts in a forest near the family home.
"She sold my brother drugs multiple times. So she knew my brother," said Roberts Gyllen. "I don't know if they were friends. But I think you can't interact with someone multiple times and not feel something."