Former Michigan cop sues brotherhood, says they bet on who would sleep with her first
As she downed the Fireball shot, Teresa Williams saw herself as one of the guys.
She was the first female cop in Iron Mountain, Michigan, and the men at work had invited her out for drinks — only the night of bonding would turn into an uncomfortable initiation ceremony: Williams had to make out with her supervisor after the shot.
She initially refused, called it BS, but said her supervisor told her the kiss was required for initiation into the brotherhood — which he demonstrated for her: He did a shot, and then allegedly kissed a former male dispatcher who was sitting nearby.
Williams caved and kissed him.
That was just the beginning.
In a scandalous legal tale unfolding in U.S. District Court, Williams is suing the Iron Mountain (Michigan) Police Department and its leadership for what she describes as years of sexual harassment and discrimination, alleging she was taunted, groped and humiliated by her male counterparts — and then faced retaliation when she reported the abuse.
'I still have nightmares ... I wake myself up screaming'
“When she pressed the issue of sexual harassment, she was ultimately forced to resign or face termination,” the lawsuit states.
Williams chose to resign — then sued her employer in federal court, alleging, among other things:
- Her direct supervisor groped her during a night of drinking, placed a bet with her partner as to who would have sex with her first and referred to her hiring as "a lawsuit waiting to happen."
- Her former partner kissed and groped her against her will in their squad car multiple times, called her vulgar names and coerced her into a sex act that ultimately ruined their professional relationship and set the stage for her eventual resignation.
For Williams, who got married after joining the police force and has two children, the lawsuit is emotionally and mentally draining, and includes embarrassing details about her life that weigh heavily on her. She is now a recluse in her tiny Upper Peninsula town of 7,500 people, afraid to leave the house, fearful of bumping into the men she says humiliated her.
“I still have nightmares about everything I’ve gone through at that department,” Williams said in a recent interview with the Paste BN Network. “I wake myself up screaming. My husband will wake me up because I’m trembling. I am petrified.”
'I'm not the only female that this has happened to'
But she’s tired of living in fear and anxiety, she said. So she is speaking out.
"My biggest thing is having integrity, standing tall and doing the right thing," said Williams, who's 35. "I know that this kind of stuff happens everywhere. I'm not the only female that this has happened to."
She stressed: "I want my story to be told because I want people to know — other women to know — that they’re not alone. And I want other women to know that it’s OK to be embarrassed about stuff like this. … You shouldn't have to hide from it. People need to be held accountable for this type of bull----."
Williams’ lawsuit names five defendants: the city of Iron Mountain, Michigan; the Iron Mountain Police Department; Ed Mattson, the director of the Police Department; Joseph Dumais, her former supervisor; and Garth Budek, her former partner on the force.
Mattson, Dumais and Budeck did not return multiple calls for comment. Traverse City, Michigan, attorney Gregory Grant, who is representing all three police defendants, the city and the police department, declined comment, stating in an email: “I cannot comment on pending litigation. My clients do not believe in trying cases in the media.”
Breaking barriers: Girls can play football, and be cops
Williams joined the Iron Mountain Police Department in October 2017, a job she had dreamed of since the second grade, when she interviewed a DARE officer for a class report, and developed a passion for law enforcement and helping people.
Williams knew it was a male-dominated profession, though that didn't faze her. She had been down this road before.
During her sophomore year in high school, Williams joined the junior varsity football team at Florence High School, 17 miles from Iron Mountain in Wisconsin. At 5-foot-3 and 130 pounds, she played defensive end and was on the kickoff return unit — and was the only girl on the team. She had the full support of her mom, stepdad, brother and friends, though a handful of varsity players gave her some grief.
"I got harassed and bullied. They said, 'Females can't play football. You need to quit,' " Williams recalled. "But I didn't quit. I'm not a quitter."
That resilience would stay with her through adulthood.
Single mom hardships
After graduating high school in 2004, Williams moved to Florida and New Orleans with her partner and did reconstruction work following natural disasters. They had two children, though Williams would eventually leave her partner following years of turmoil. It was an abusive relationship, she said, so she rebuilt her life in Michigan, where she would raise two children on her own, juggling three jobs at a time. She was a waitress, a dog groomer and worked at a clothing store — though her dream of becoming a police officer was ever present. She just had to wait.
Williams had a strong work ethic, passed down from her mom, who worked at a bakery, and her stepdad, who was a butcher.
Williams eventually enrolled in college and got a job as a corrections officer with the Marquette County (Michigan) Sheriff's Office. In 2016, she graduated from Bay De Noc Community College in Escanaba with an associate's degree. That summer, she entered the police academy.
Within a year, she would have her dream job at the Iron Mountain Police Department.
"I distinctly remember Teresa Carr (Williams) and her astute demeanor," said Stephanie Graef, a human trafficking instructor at the Northern Michigan University Regional Police Academy. "She stood out, not because she was the only female recruit in her class, but through her sincere sense of duty to serve."
'I thought I was being accepted'
Within her first few weeks at the department, her co-workers started asking her to join them for drinks. "I was happy. I thought that I was being accepted, which meant a lot at the time," Williams recalled.
But then came the cringey initiation stunt at the bar — the shot-and-kiss incident, followed by uncomfortable stares at work, she recalled.
"The way that they would look at me was one of the biggest things. It made me feel like I was a piece of meat," Williams said.
For months, Williams said she quietly tolerated her coworkers' behavior. She was afraid to say anything, she said, because it was well known in the department that her supervisor Dumais “had a great amount of power. "
"If he ever said anything or told somebody to do something, they did it," Williams said.
On that first night at the bar, the night of the initiation kiss, she said Dumais pressured her to do a second shot. She kept saying no, but he kept insisting — so she did it, only he didn’t kiss her that time. Instead, he allegedly put his hand between her legs and "grabbed her genitals."
"(Williams) froze in fear," the lawsuit states.
Groping, followed by an apology and tears
After that first bar night, Williams said she soon realized that harassment would become routine at work, though she continued to socialize with Dumais and Budek because she longed to be accepted.
Meanwhile, the misbehavior continued.
For example, after one night at a local bar, Williams drove Budek home when he instructed her to stop the car so that he could “tell her something.” She stopped the car. Budek shifted it into park, then told her "how hot her ass looked in her duty pants" before grabbing her hand, pulling her closer and placing her hand on his genitals, the lawsuit alleges. Then he leaned in to kiss her. She turned away, so he began kissing her neck.
Williams told him to stop, but he overpowered her and shoved her hand beneath his pants.
When Williams stopped resisting, he let her hand go. She then shifted into drive and took him home, where he thanked her for the ride and asked her "at least for a hug," She obliged. Then he kissed her neck again, and groped her upper thigh. She told him to stop. Budek apologized and started crying.
Williams told him he needed to get into his house. He left and she drove away.
In another incident, while again driving Budek home from the bar, Budek told Williams that it was “difficult to work with her” because he got distracted looking at her and found it hard to restrain himself. Then he began rubbing her thigh and allegedly said, “How are we going to resolve this issue?”
'I'm very embarrassed about all this'
There's one incident that Williams struggles to talk about.
It involves a night at the Greenleaf Bar with Budek and his wife. After drinks, they all went to Budek's house and watched a movie. At some point, Budek’s wife excused herself. Budek then grabbed Williams' hand and guided her downstairs, where, according to the lawsuit, he pressured her to perform oral sex, and then told her she could never tell anyone.
"I said I wanted to go home," Williams recalled of the incident, noting she felt scared and powerless. Budek wasn't just her partner, she said, he was also her superior and close friends with Dumais. They "pretty much ran the department,” she said.
"I basically felt helpless … like I didn't have a choice," Williams said, noting that many of her actions with Dumais and Budek were fear-based. "If I didn't go along with what was going on, they were going to ruin me and make my life a living hell."
So she did as Budek instructed that night.
"I'm very embarrassed about all of this," Williams said, noting she went home that night and struggled to fall asleep. "I was trying to process, 'how I'm going to get through this?' And wondered, 'Is this going to be a regular thing?' "
Experts: This is 'more common than you think'
Jennifer Salvatore, an adjunct law professor at the University of Michigan Law School and veteran employment attorney, said the sexual coercion of women by male superiors in the workplace is far too common. And what appears to be a consensual sex act, she said, is really an unwelcome act that the law views as unlawful harassment.
"I deal with these issues a lot. It’s actually more common that you would think, particularly in jobs where there’s a big power differential," Salvatore said, stressing that just because a woman engages in a sex act with a male superior at work, or doesn't say "no, knock it off," doesn't mean the conduct was welcome.
"The test is not whether the sex act was consensual, but whether the conduct was truly welcome or not," Salvatore said. "If you are having sex with your boss because you feel that's your only option to keep your job — that's not welcome conduct."
Salvatore cited a 1986 landmark U.S. Supreme Court case that for the first time recognized sexual harassment as a form of sex discrimination under federal law. That case involved a female bank worker who was being sexually harassed by the bank manager, and who had sex with him dozens of times. The high court concluded that the harassment in this case was pervasive and created a hostile work environment, and noted that what mattered was not whether the woman's participation was voluntary, but whether it was unwelcome.
"It's not an uncommon fact pattern at all," Salvatore said. "Unfortunately, there are lots and lots of workers who are vulnerable. And if they report it, they know they are going to lose their jobs."
This is one of the reasons many women go along with the harassment, and don't speak up, said longtime civil rights attorney Shereef Akeel, who specializes in workplace discrimination cases in metro Detroit and has handled numerous cases involving bosses who coerce subordinates to engage in sexual activity.
"Women and whistleblowers often are faced with the unfortunate situation of having to make a decision between reporting the sexual harassment or other bad acts, or be blacklisted forever in their career that they worked so hard for," Akeel said. "It takes a lot of courage from these women and whistleblowers to speak up because they know of the underlying negative consequences, and stigma which still occurs — even today."
Williams gets a new partner, breaks silence
After the night at Budek's house, Williams' work relationship with Budek became "extremely hostile." The two got into a heated argument during a traffic stop. Cuss words flew. Williams drove home in tears.
The next day, Williams got a new partner, who confided in her some upsetting news: When she was first hired, her partner told her, Budek and Dumais placed a bet as to which one would have sex with her first. Williams was appalled. Budek and Dumais got promotions.
Budek was named sergeant. Dumais was named second in command.
Meanwhile, Williams' work environment continued to spiral downhill. By fall 2020, when word got out at work that she was getting married, she was getting "relentlessly" disciplined for things that her male counterparts routinely did without issue. In one month alone, she was disciplined four times: for unprofessional activity; for failing to answer her radio for a call that was routinely handled alone; for insubordination — she told Dumais she was uncomfortable meeting him alone in his office — and for allegedly not taking the fastest route to a call.
In November 2020, Williams reached a breaking point and went to her union for help.
According to the lawsuit, Williams told three union representatives that she was facing discrimination, sexual harassment and unfair discipline. But her complaints fell on deaf ears, the lawsuit says. She said the union advised against being a whistleblower, and warned that she could be fired if her claims were determined to be unfounded.
The Paste BN Network contacted three union representatives cited in the lawsuit, though none returned repeated calls for comment.
Williams also reported the harassment to top management — Mattson and Dumais — but "they preferred I do nothing more and move on," her EEOC complaint states.
Williams' attorney, Jack Schulz, described the treatment of Williams as “the most horrific he has seen" in his career as a lawyer.
“Rather than embrace diversity and inclusion, these officers, including leadership, have acted with complete impunity," Schulz said. "Their actions are disgraceful and they must be held accountable.”
Resign, or be fired
In the end, it would be a traffic stop involving her husband that would end Williams' career.
On April 14, 2022, Williams' husband was pulled over and charged with driving while intoxicated in neighboring Spread Eagle, Wisconsin, by the Florence County Sheriff's Department. He called his wife and told her he would be late due to the traffic stop. Williams headed to the scene, where she asked if she could take her husband's truck home.
The police said no, but instead towed her husband's truck to an impound lot, where it cost $700 to get out. Williams said after being told she couldn't take the truck home, she got in her car and left.
The next day, she would learn that Florence County planned to charge her with disorderly conduct and obstructing justice, alleging she tried to stop the officers from searching her husband's truck. She was placed on unpaid suspension pending an investigation.
Soon after, she was given an option: Resign immediately, or be fired.
One week after the traffic stop, on April 21, 2022, Williams submitted her letter of resignation.
She maintains she did so under duress. She was ultimately charged with interfering with her husband's traffic stop — though she denies the allegation, maintaining that was orchestrated by a police department that long wanted her out for exposing sexual harassment on the force. She ultimately pleaded the charge down to a county ordinance violation.
On July 13, 2022, Williams filed a discrimination and harassment complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, which would notify the police department within 10 days about the complaint.
On July 26, 2022, three days after learning of the EEOC complaint, Williams' criminal charges become front-page news in the local media, even though she had been charged and resigned months earlier. She believes Iron Mountain police went to the media as payback for the EEOC complaint.
Things got worse. The police, Williams alleges, then went after her kids.
According to the lawsuit, Williams' youngest son was charged with destruction of property involving damage to a picnic table at a public park. Despite multiple children being present, according to the police report, only her son was charged. The charge was eventually dropped.
Then in late 2022, an unidentified Iron Mountain police officer contacted the Michigan State Police Department to report a “tip” that Williams' oldest son was allegedly seen with a pistol at school. A state police trooper visited their house, though no one reported this to the school. Williams says it wasn't true. No charges were filed.
"They couldn’t have made it feel more like retaliation after what they did," Williams said, referring to the police actions involving her children.
But at least the worst is over, Williams said.
"My job meant everything to me. I’ve had a lot of days where I have been able to do nothing but cry because I miss my job and I miss what I did," Williams said. "But, ultimately, the day I submitted my resignation letter — even though it absolutely crushed me, I felt an immense sigh of relief, at the fact that I never had to walk into that place again."
Contact Tresa Baldas: tbaldas@freepress.com