From the Desk of Detective Brian Colwel: Reflections on the Mackenzie Shirilla Case After the Appeal Denial

My name is Detective Brian Colwel. For over two decades with the department, I’ve investigated homicides, fatal crashes, and the dark intersections where intent meets tragedy. The Mackenzie Shirilla case is one that stayed with me long after the scene was cleared. I was deeply involved in the investigation from the early hours after that horrific crash that took the lives of Dominic “Dom” Russo and DaVon Flanigan. When the Ohio Supreme Court recently declined to hear her appeal—upholding her 15-years-to-life sentence with parole eligibility in 2037—I felt it was time to share a firsthand perspective. Not for headlines, but for the record.

I’ve listened to the discussions, including Matt Johnson’s conversation with forensic psychiatrist Dr. Carol Lieberman. Much of what they covered aligns with what we uncovered on the ground. This isn’t speculation from a distance. This is what the evidence showed us investigators who lived it.

The Night That Changed Everything

It was a chaotic scene when we arrived. High-speed impact, two young men dead, and Mackenzie Shirilla as the lone survivor and driver. From the outset, the physical evidence told a story that went beyond a simple accident. The vehicle’s speed—approaching 100 miles per hour—left little room for doubt about the forces involved. Skid marks, vehicle positioning, and the point of impact painted a clear picture.

What struck me early was the preparation suggested by the evidence. We developed information about a prior run to that same stretch of road. Someone had scouted the location, figuring out exactly where the car needed to be to produce the desired outcome. That wasn’t random. Combined with prior communications where Mackenzie had threatened Dom—telling him she could cause an accident that would kill him—it raised serious red flags about intent.

I remember interviewing witnesses and reviewing those texts. Dom had been concerned enough to reach out to his own mother for help. That fear was real. As investigators, we don’t chase narratives; we follow facts. The facts here supported charges of murder, not just vehicular homicide.

The Defense That Wasn’t

One of the most frustrating aspects of the trial was the defense strategy—or lack thereof. Mackenzie’s team chose a bench trial. They floated the idea of POTS, her postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, as a medical explanation for a sudden incapacitation. Her family, particularly her mother Natalie, has continued pushing this hard in media interviews.

From my experience, we thoroughly examined the medical angle. The prosecution demonstrated effectively that her actions at the moment of impact—foot on the accelerator, coordinated control—were inconsistent with a full syncope or fainting episode. No credible medical expert took the stand from the defense to back up the POTS theory in a compelling way. That was a critical missed opportunity for them.

Dr. Lieberman nailed it in her discussion: a psychiatric expert should have been called. Mackenzie’s history suggested deeper issues. We saw indications of emotional volatility, fear of abandonment, and behaviors consistent with personality disorders. Borderline traits often involve dramatic gestures, including suicidal ideation used to elicit attention and rescue. There was that earlier 911 call when she was 15—father reporting a suicidal situation, then the family walking it back once responders arrived. Patterns like that don’t appear in a vacuum.

In my line of work, you learn that mental health issues can be mitigating but rarely fully exculpatory in cases with clear evidence of planning and execution. A diminished capacity argument, properly supported, might have changed the tone. Instead, ineffective assistance of counsel became a centerpiece of the appeals. Filing an appeal one day late with a leap-year excuse? As someone who’s built cases that hinge on precise timelines, that was amateur hour.

Inside the Family Dynamic

Working this case meant dealing with the Shirilla family up close. I’ve seen every kind of parental response in tragedies—raw grief, anger, denial, cooperation. What stood out here was the enabling.

Mackenzie was raised in an environment where consequences seemed optional. Her father reportedly downplayed substance use. Her mother focused intensely on her daughter’s image—social media presence, appearance, potential brand deals. Dr. Lieberman described it accurately as fostering narcissism and vanity. In interviews, the parents still struggle to fully confront the reality.

I sat through portions of the process where Natalie Shirilla expressed confusion about the trial outcome: “Something’s wrong somewhere.” She’s portrayed the appellate process as mired in procedure over justice. From my perspective, the system worked. The evidence was presented. The judge made a ruling based on it.

The parents’ insistence that there was “no proof of intent” ignores what we documented: the practice run, the threats, the speed, the positioning. In the jail calls released publicly, you hear the mother reassuring Mackenzie, telling her they’re filing appeals, to trust the process, and not to discuss details on monitored lines. It’s protective, yes—but it also perpetuates a bubble where accountability is externalized.

Life Behind Bars: The Calls, the Artwork, the Reality

Mackenzie’s adjustment to prison has been rocky. The recorded calls reveal a young woman grappling with a future she never envisioned. In one, she rejects the idea of rehabilitation outright: “I don’t need to be rehabilitated.” She worries about aging out of having a family, kids, a normal life. Her mother’s response is classic enabling: “Let us fight… Just live right now.”

We’ve seen reports of prison tickets—for rule violations, possession of contraband items, and other behavioral issues. A fellow inmate described her maintaining a “mean girl aura,” waking early for full makeup and hair routines. These details matter for parole boards. They speak to insight and change.

Her artwork, which her mother has described poignantly—self-portraits with thorns around the neck, sewn-shut mouth, question marks—fits the psychological profile. Dr. Lieberman interpreted the imagery as feeling strangled by incarceration and holding back truths. From an investigative standpoint, that “sewn-shut mouth” is telling. Mackenzie has maintained no memory of the crash. She didn’t testify at trial. In the Netflix documentary The Crash, she shares her “truth,” expressing sorrow and love for the victims while denying intent.

Would she have taken the stand in a retrial? Possibly. Dr. Lieberman thought she might seize the opportunity to tell her side. Whether that would have helped is doubtful. Shifting blame to the passengers or spinning another narrative could have backfired under cross-examination.

The Victims at the Center

As a detective, I met with the families of Dom Russo and DaVon Flanigan. Their pain is permanent. No appeal denial brings them back. Dom was Mackenzie’s “soulmate,” according to her. DaVon was a friend. Yet two lives were extinguished in a single, violent moment.

I’ve reviewed the sentencing hearing. The judge acknowledged the victims’ families’ desire for the harshest penalty but imposed concurrent 15-to-life terms, noting belief that Mackenzie wouldn’t likely be released at the first eligibility. That parole board will have a massive file: the evidence, the behavior in prison, the public statements, the documentary.

Will those materials hurt her? Almost certainly. Boards look for genuine remorse, accountability, and rehabilitation. Statements rejecting the need for reform don’t help. Continued family narratives that minimize intent or blame the system create a poor impression.

What the Evidence Showed Us

Let me be clear as the detective who worked the case: this wasn’t just a medical emergency. The convergence of factors—speed, prior reconnaissance, threats, post-crash positioning—supported the murder convictions. We don’t charge murder lightly. It requires intent or extreme recklessness.

POTS may be real for Mackenzie. Many people manage it without tragedy. The defense failed to bridge the gap between a legitimate condition and this specific outcome. Psychiatric factors, including possible borderline personality disorder with abandonment fears, offer context for her emotional state leading up to the crash. But they don’t erase the choices reflected in the evidence.

I’ve consulted with experts like Dr. Lieberman in other cases. Her insights here ring true: Mackenzie’s history of attention-seeking behaviors, the family’s role in amplifying entitlement, and the inadequate legal strategy all contributed to the outcome.

Looking Toward 2037 and Beyond

Mackenzie has over a decade before her first parole hearing. She’s reportedly held a job in prison—that’s a start. But real change requires more: accepting responsibility, processing the loss of two young men, and demonstrating consistent reform.

Her parents continue advocating, exploring every legal avenue. That’s their right. But the denial of the latest appeal signals the courts’ position. Further appeals to higher courts are uphill battles.

I’ve seen cases where inmates transform. I’ve seen others double down on denial. The documentary and jail calls will be part of the record. Public interest remains high. Dom’s sister and others are pushing for legislative changes to prevent offenders from profiting off their crimes—another layer.

Final Thoughts from the Field

Working the Shirilla case reinforced why I do this job. Justice isn’t perfect, but in this instance, the system held. Two families lost sons and friends. Mackenzie faces the consequences of actions that, by the evidence, were preventable and intentional.

The psychological dimensions Dr. Lieberman explored—borderline traits, enabling parents, narcissistic elements—help explain but don’t excuse. Mackenzie’s prison art may reflect genuine suffering. She calls herself “not a monster.” No one is purely one thing. But actions have outcomes.

To the victims’ families: your loved ones are remembered. To Mackenzie: true rehabilitation starts with truth. To the public: these cases remind us that entitlement, unchecked mental health issues, and poor choices can have fatal consequences.

The appeal is denied. The sentence stands. Now the real work—for everyone involved—continues.

Detective Brian Colwel (Ret.) consulted on high-profile cases involving violent crimes and fatal incidents. This reflection draws from investigative findings and public records, including expert analyses by Dr. Carol Lieberman. Views are my own based on direct participation.