Thanksgiving night of 1999, I did something really ignorant
to someone that did not deserve it.
I let my anger turn to rage.
But that's not who I am anymore.
I've had to deal with reliving that night for almost 24 years.
I really don't know what it was that triggered me,
but I believe the state should release me.
I'm nowhere near as violent as I was.
I think we could all be dangerous people.
People say you're a monster.
I'm not sitting here saying I'm innocent.
I just murdered some guy in cold blood.
Growing up, I always wondered what my life would be like
if my dad was here.
And how different things would be.
Hey, get that camera out of my face. Hey! Hey!
He would be the person that I could call no matter what,
and he would be there.
I feel like if my dad was here, we'd be best friends.
There is no excuse for what Michael Highley did.
Whether it was drugs, or just mental illness,
or a combination of the two,
I don't think there's any excuse for killing my father.
Since I've been locked up for almost the last quarter of a century,
I've had to do a lot of self-reflecting.
And I still do not understand why I reacted that way.
Let's get this one on you.
It still brings up
some messed-up feelings when I think about that day.
It wasn't something I intended.
My life should have been so much better.
Growing up in the south suburb of Chicago,
I lived with my mother, my grandmother, my grandfather,
and a couple of siblings that I had.
The only thing I knew about my father was he was in the Marine Corps,
and the only real memory I have
was watching him in his vehicle pull out of the yard and drive away.
I started drinking around the age of seven or eight.
One of the friends that I had growing up was part of a local gang.
Him and his friends were always showing up
with 12-packs of beer, bottles of whiskey.
And...
by the time I reached my ninth birthday, I would say I was a full-blown alcoholic.
Being intoxicated, it helped hide some of the confusion
and anger that I had.
And it helped me hide some
intimate details about myself that I didn't want to face.
It was one of those things of trying to fit in
and... make sure that I had, you know, people I could call friends.
I was, uh, definitely exposed to a lot of violence.
I was kind of a hothead, and I had a lot of anger.
Got angry at someone, you tried to beat him up.
You were throwing punches, you were throwing kicks,
you were headbutting people.
That was how you proved you were one of the boys.
After moving to Montana,
I was supposed to be working for my stepdad,
but he wasn't paying me.
So I decided to try and get even by stealing some rifles.
I knew some people that... that were willing to purchase them for... for cash and drugs.
But some of the individuals that I did business with
turned in some of the hunting rifles to the police.
So I was, uh, arrested,
and that was the start of my...
my prison life.
Prison wasn't the learning experience that I think they wanted it to be,
and, uh, even being incarcerated, I... I was still intoxicated.
Coming out of prison,
I had buried the issues with my feelings deep enough
to where I wasn't dealing with them,
and my main concern was where my next 12-pack is gonna come from.
Where my next quarter gram is gonna come from.
I had that attitude, "Nobody is going to tell me I can't."
So I kept drinking, kept getting high.
Unfortunately, that wasn't a really good attitude to have.
It was just making me more explosive.
The night before Thanksgiving of 1999,
I rode my pedal bike to my local bar.
I brought the bike inside and left it in the corner.
An old acquaintance of mine, Mr. Harris, told me he would be willing
to keep an eye on it for me.
So I told him I was going to be over at the pool table,
and that was pretty much the start of a bad night.
One of the bartenders approached me, and he accused me of being
one of several people
that he suspected went back behind the bar a night or two prior
and took some money out of what they call the "shake a day" container.
- My anger meter was raising quickly.
If you're going to accuse me of something, make sure I did it.
I wasn't out-of-control angry, but I was just about there.
I'm not exactly sure how much time went by,
but the bartender caught my attention and said,
"I'm sorry, the individual that did take the money confessed to it."
But I just kept thinking about being accused
of doing something I didn't do.
I continued to drink.
I dwelled on it.
And when I glanced up, I noticed the bike was gone.
My... anger level instantly started to boil.
I asked Mr. Harris, "Where's the bike?"
And I slapped his shoulder.
He turned and looked at me and told me,
"Even if I knew where it was, I wouldn't tell you."
And...
that... that was it.
I went from being angry to being in a full-blown rage.
I remember the bartender yelling, "Take it outside."
I remember Mr. Harris coming out of the bar,
walking across the street.
As soon as he got close enough to me, I stabbed him three times.
I still do not understand what it was that triggered me.
I cannot even begin to speculate what was going through my mind.
Throughout his life, Michael had a habit.
He gets angry, he does something,
and he doesn't think about it until after he does it.
I couldn't understand it.
I'm Carol, and I'm Michael Highley's mother.
When Michael was younger, he was drinking all the time.
And he was doing drugs,
but I didn't realize he was doing that because he didn't do it here.
I'd come home, he'd be... he'd be home for dinner,
and he'd ask to go play with his friends.
But what he was doing was actually going to a drug dealer.
When he got in trouble, Michael always had this "fight or flee."
This one incident, the dope dealer was chasing him home.
Probably he was getting chased 'cause he owed the drug dealer some money.
And he went and took his sister's .22 rifle.
He just stuck the rifle out the window, and he shot him.
I thought if I took him away from this environment,
that things would smooth out.
But it seemed like no matter what we say or what we did,
somehow or another it didn't get blocked into his head.
I think it just went, psst, one ear and out the other.
But as far as the anger issue,
I took him to the doctors trying to find why he blows up like that.
Everybody tried to pinpoint it, but nobody knew what was going on.
And that's why I always told Michael,
"Think before you do something. Just turn around and walk away."
But he don't listen,
and that's why this last incident with the knife happened.
When I found out the person that Michael knifed had died,
I was thinking...
..."This is something I can't get him out of."
I don't know why he was that angry.
I don't think it ever stuck in his brain to think about something
or the consequences of doing it before he did it.
When we get these cases, they're always tragic.
There should've been different ways to handle a dispute than this.
But now this happened, and someone is dead.
My name is John W. Larson. I'm a district judge in Montana,
and I presided over the case of Michael Highley.
Prison is generally a last resort.
We have to give them a chance to change their life.
You're not thrown back in jail for every... violation.
But Highley was given a lot of chances, and chances can't be unending.
Mr. Highley did have sufficient opportunities to change,
but he had these violent tendencies.
And in the end, someone was stabbed to death.
And when there's such violence,
we have to make sure that everybody else is protected.
The sentence in Highley's case is one that is appropriate.
It had enough punishment, but it wasn't extreme.
It had a component, uh, for rehabilitation.
There was a requirement that before he'd be considered for parole,
he complete rehabilitative programs
both in chemical dependency and mental health.
So Highley needs to take advantage of his sentence
and utilize these chances to change.
The first few years in prison were really tough for me.
I shut down mentally.
I didn't want to think about what got me here.
And that was pretty much what I did for my first few years.
But I had gotten to a point
where I was trying to make changes in my life.
And listening to gay individuals
try to explain how things are so much different in the world now,
and how things are so much more accepted...
It was 2016 that I came out as being transgender.
And mentally, I have never looked back.
And it's helped me move forward from where I was back in 1999.
I should have faced it a long time ago.
But an individual had to die,
and I had to be sent to prison for pretty close to the rest of my life
for me to realize that facing the world the way I did,
it... it wasn't a life I should have lived.
And it had me reviewing
everything that I have ever done in my life.
It helped me...
realize that I shouldn't have been ashamed of who I was.
I started wearing women's clothes at a really young age.
It was right around the time that my father had left.
I did a lot to try and suppress it
because...
the way society looked at people that were transgender back in them days
wasn't remotely socially acceptable.
And I had been caught a few times dressed up in women's underwear
when I was in junior high school.
They... caught me in the...
in the boys' locker room wearing, uh, a teddy
and... my gym shorts around my ankles and...
I was laughed at and made fun of and...
Yeah, it was, uh... it was traumatizing.
I would have to say that trying to fit into a man's world
while inside, I felt different.
I didn't process it very well.
The way I dealt with it was by drinking all the time,
trying to medicate myself to where I didn't think about it anymore.
And being intoxicated to help deal with
feeling so down on myself.
So I kept drinking, kept getting high,
and there was a lot of violence.
But since I came out as being transgender, I've been the happiest I've ever been.
I've been trying for parole
because my thirst for rehabilitation has never been
so far to the forefront
like it has been since I made the decision just to accept that this is who I am.
My current name is Ezdeth Antinua Highley.
You can like me or... or not.
I've got to live with me, not you.
We received notifications
that Michael Highley wanted to change his name.
And they told us what he wanted to change his name to.
I had the lady on the phone spell it for me,
and it was E-Z-D-E-T-H.
And I said, "Easy death?"
I was shocked.
That's kind of a slap in the face to a victim's family
where that's what it looks like that's what his name is.
Eventually, when they told us
Highley wants to transition as much as you can in prison,
I... I don't know.
It's a lot to deal with and to try and understand.
And I'm... I'm sure it is for him internally,
for what he's feeling.
Paul was hilarious growing up. A little prankster.
We always had to watch what he was doing
so we didn't get in trouble and join in in the shenanigans.
He was just fun to have around.
A good brother.
In the late '90s, Paul was living in Missoula.
And he met his girlfriend Tracy in about '97.
And then they went on to have twin baby girls.
And they were born in 1999.
He was really excited about being a dad.
I think it's unfortunate
that he had to pass away and didn't even get that chance.
I'm not really sure why Highley
thought that he should stab my brother.
But they ended up getting into, uh, an argument about the bike.
Paul told his friend, "Put that in the back of your truck,
and it'll be funny to see him say, 'Where's my bike?'"
You know, it was just a simple joke that went wrong.
I think that's pretty severe anger issues
that you have if you want to stab somebody
um, over a bicycle that wasn't even stolen.
Highley has been up for parole multiple times.
But I feel that when you take somebody's life,
that you should spend the remainder of your life incarcerated.
At the last parole hearing via video,
Highley said that he felt like he was a woman,
and maybe that that's where some of his anger or rage came from.
It's hard to say what you feel about that.
I mean, I feel for people that feel... feel that way anyways in their life.
But he killed somebody violently,
and it doesn't make it go away 'cause your name changes.
There's a lot more going on contributing to Ezdeth's behavior
than just her gender identity.
I think it provides context
for some of the things that she was going through,
and some of the things that she was struggling with.
But the vast majority of people with gender identity issues
do not commit murder.
My name is Laura Kirsch.
I'm a clinical forensic psychologist in Montana.
And I primarily evaluate criminal defendants
for the Montana judicial system.
Human behavior is very hard to parse apart.
Why anyone does anything is an interaction of so many variables
that are internal to a person and then external as part of a situation.
I think a large driver of her behavior at that time
seems like anger, substance use,
and antisocial personality traits.
Is some of that due to her gender identity? Probably.
But being able to draw a straight line from her gender identity to the murder,
I think, would be highly impossible to do.
Based on the information that I've read,
it sounds like she had a pretty antisocial and delinquent childhood.
And I think when you have someone who perhaps doesn't start out
with a whole lot of great emotion regulation capacity,
and they're raised in an environment where they don't get the extra assistance
that they need with it,
that could certainly lead to using violence
as a means to solve problems or as a means to express herself.
But I don't think they provide an excuse or a justification for her behavior.
Since I came out as being transgender,
I've been the happiest I've ever been.
It gave me a body high like nothing I have ever done before.
The thing that made me decide to start facing my issue
was remembering the contentment
and freedom it caused me to feel
every time I'd be in the basement wearing a dress and high heels.
And I had decided I just don't care what people think anymore.
But an individual had to die,
and I had to be sent to prison for pretty close
to the rest of my life for me to realize that facing the world the way I did,
it... it wasn't a life I should have lived.
My life should have been so much better.
One of the characteristics
that's pretty consistent with antisocial personality
is kind of a self-centeredness or self-absorption.
And I thought it was striking in all of the material
that she was very self-focused.
So it's possible
that a lot of her behavior was driven by antisocial personality traits.
And I think it's striking how much she's focused on herself
and how little she's spoken of the victims and the victim family.
I think if Ezdeth would like a better chance
of getting paroled in the future,
she needs to show genuine remorse for what she did.
So part of her journey that she's on
should incorporate really considering the impact of her behavior
on... her victim's family,
on his young daughters,
who have faced significant obstacles growing up without a father.
And it's not totally clear from what I've seen and heard
that she recognizes that and understands
that she was a major factor in their difficult childhood.
I have some pictures of my brother Paul Harris.
There's some in here that my niece Madison has never seen before.
At the time of Paul's death,
we didn't know what was gonna happen with the girls.
I was a single mom to a five-year-old, and I wasn't sure, you know,
could I take two babies, and all of a sudden have three kids,
and be a single mom.
You know, now I think I should have just made it work.
I think this is the first picture that I saw of you girls.
Look at how tiny you are. I don't even know who's who. Can you tell?
Yeah, you can tell that's Brianna because of her dark hair.
After my dad passed away, my mom was in and out of the picture,
and my twin sister and I were in and out of group homes for years.
Because of what Michael Highley did,
I was surrounded by drug use, abuse, neglect, all those things growing up.
I just remember thinking all the time, like, I would give anything
to just have, like, a regular family.
It does anger me that we didn't get that chance
because of somebody else's choice.
I definitely feel like if he was here,
things would be different.
But I'm just thankful for, you know, the family that we do have,
and, um, that they stepped in to help
'cause...
...you know, through everything that we went through as children...
I think we're pretty okay.
It doesn't matter to me if Michael Highley has changed or not.
Whether he was suffering with a mental illness or a drug problem.
I don't think there's any excuse for killing my father.
They didn't give me very long to talk.
It was just, "Why do you think he shouldn't be released early?"
And I just said,
"Because he took my dad away from our family."
I believe that he should serve the sentence that he was given for murder.
Any and all future parole hearings,
I will testify that Michael Highley should not be released early.
It feels terrible.
Somebody calls and tells you your son is dead.
You know, every mother's fear is losing their children.
But I have forgiven Highley.
You can't keep holding on to things like that
because they hurt you more than anybody else.
I'm Cheryl, and I'm Paul Harris's mother.
I always run the scenario through my mind about,
"Well, what if Paul wouldn't have moved his bike?"
Would he still be here?
If it wasn't for that one little thing.
I mean, there's all these parameters
that we can bring in and try to make sense of something that happened.
But trust me when I tell you, I've gone through 10,000 of those,
and they don't help.
Nothing that I could say or do would bring my son back.
Nothing.
So I decided that I was gonna forgive him,
and I wanted to at least give him a chance that he could change.
I asked about having Michael's sentence reduced.
I didn't want to punish him,
just lock him in a corner and leave him there forever.
I asked if he was gonna be getting any training.
I was trying to find the... a good side to him being in prison
and taking different classes, and...
one that would help him.
I am glad that Michael Highley is changing.
I think he is learning the hard way.
But he's coming to terms with being transgender,
and I think it's hard for him
being in prison and trying to find those changes and those answers.
I hope he gets out of prison
and can live a life that everybody deserves.
I would like the best to happen to him that could,
but he also has to do some of it too.
Everything I have done in the last 13 years
has been to better myself, but I am a work in progress.
I shouldn't have put my victim
in the position of being a victim.
But I am always thinking about his mother and his children,
and it definitely means a lot to me to hear that she has forgiven me.
That... That definitely takes a... a strong woman to say that.
Coming to terms with what I did
Thanksgiving night of 1999 has taken me a really long time.
But that's not who I am anymore.
Transitioning has helped me maintain my thoughts of rehabilitation
because it gives me something to strive for.
I'm steps away from being the person that I've always wanted to be.
I am a woman trapped inside of a man's body.
I am not this Michael Highley.
My name is Ezdeth.
Highley has been up for parole multiple times,
but I feel that when you take somebody's life,
that you should spend the remainder of your life incarcerated.
When they told us what he wanted to change his name to,
I had the lady on the phone spell it for me,
and it was E-Z-D-E-T-H.
And I said, "Easy death?"
I was shocked.
That's kind of a slap in the face
to a victim's family where that's what it looks like
that's what his name is.
I'm sorry that she sees it that way,
and I really do hope that she will be open-minded enough
to give me the opportunity to prove
that it is not intended
as a slap in the face to any of her family.
When I came up with the name,
it was a made-up character in a role-playing game
that had...
qualities that I appreciated.
She would always try to deal with situations in a communicative way.
And she always tried to find balance.
It's not supposed to mean anything
to anybody else but me.
I think what comes across
in everything that I've read and seen about Ezdeth
is that she's got a number of antisocial personality traits.
And one of the characteristics
that's pretty consistent with antisocial personality
is kind of a self-centeredness or self-absorption.
I think it's striking
how little she's spoken of the victims and the victim family.
And it's not totally clear from what I've seen and heard
that she recognizes that and understands
that she was a major factor in the daughters' difficult childhood.
How... How... How do you say I'm sorry
for... for... for taking a... taking away someone's loved one?
How... How do you say you're sorry?
Maybe that's something I need to do is
learn the fancy words that people will accept.
I regret the fact that they had to grow up without their dad.
But to me, actions do speak louder than words.
Twenty-five years ago, I was a drunken, addicted jackass.
Everything was about me.
That's not who I am anymore.
It's your actions that have to prove
that you've learned, that you're trying to change.
You know, I would like for my victim's family
to find peace in... in this atrocity that I have caused.
I want the few remaining family members
that I have to find peace out of all this bullshit.
And nobody else is gonna find it until I do.
And I am doing my best.
That's what I want my actions to show.