In Kansas City, Kansas, a federal trial is set to begin for a retired white police detective, Roger Golubski, accused of sexually assaulting Black women and girls in poor neighborhoods over several decades. The allegations go beyond assault—prosecutors say Golubski used his power as a police officer to intimidate and control his victims, threatening to harm their loved ones or jail them if they didn’t comply with his demands.
Golubski, now 71, faces six felony charges of violating women’s civil rights. If convicted, he could spend the rest of his life in prison. The trial, which starts with jury selection in a federal courthouse in Topeka, has stirred outrage in the community and heightened the distrust many feel toward law enforcement, particularly in predominantly Black areas.
The accusations are shocking. Prosecutors say Golubski sexually abused one woman when she was just a young teenager and another after her sons were arrested. But these are only part of the story. Seven other women are expected to testify, sharing how Golubski allegedly abused or harassed them.
One woman, Jermeka Hobbs, has filed a lawsuit against him, claiming he groomed her to be one of his victims. “I feel like I can’t have peace,” she said, describing how she still looks over her shoulder, haunted by what happened.
Golubski once held a respected position in the Kansas City, Kansas, police force, where he worked for 35 years and eventually became a captain. After retiring in 2010, he joined a suburban police department for six more years. But today, his life looks very different. Under house arrest and battling serious health issues, including kidney failure, his trial schedule will be limited to three days a week.
Golubski’s lawyer, Chris Joseph, has said the case hinges on the credibility of the accusers, pointing out that some of the allegations date back 20 to 30 years. But others, like Jim McCloskey, founder of the nonprofit Centurion, see it differently. McCloskey, whose organization helps free wrongfully convicted people, called Golubski “the dirtiest cop I’ve ever encountered.”
The community’s distrust of Golubski isn’t just about his personal actions—it’s tied to a larger system of alleged corruption and abuse. For years, whispers about his misconduct circulated in Kansas City’s poorest neighborhoods, where many homes are boarded up and crime rates are high. Former police officers, like Max Seifert, have described a department that tolerated bad behavior. Seifert even recalled how Golubski was caught having sex in his office but faced no serious consequences. “It was treated like a ‘boys will be boys’ thing,” he said.
The investigation into Golubski’s actions began with the case of Lamonte McIntyre, a teenager arrested in 1994 for a double murder. McIntyre had an alibi, and no evidence linked him to the crime. Yet, he was convicted after an eyewitness—allegedly coerced by Golubski—identified him as the killer. Years later, McIntyre’s mother revealed in an affidavit that she believed Golubski framed her son because she refused to have regular sexual encounters with him.
McIntyre spent 23 years in prison before being freed in 2017. The case prompted the local government to settle a lawsuit with McIntyre and his mother for $12.5 million. During a deposition, Golubski invoked his Fifth Amendment right to remain silent 555 times.
The stories from women who encountered Golubski are harrowing. Prosecutors say one victim was driven to a cemetery and told to pick a spot for her grave before being assaulted. Another was forced to crawl on the ground with a dog leash around her neck as Golubski mocked her with a cruel chant.
The second woman at the center of the trial, Ophelia Williams, said Golubski targeted her after her teenage sons were arrested for a double homicide. Williams claims he began assaulting her, using both threats and false promises of helping her family. Her sons, now in their 40s, remain in prison, and Williams believes their confessions were coerced.
Williams has shared her story publicly, despite the risks. She said that when she once considered filing a complaint, Golubski taunted her: “Report me to who, the police? I am the police.”
This trial is not just about holding Golubski accountable—it’s also a reckoning for a community scarred by years of abuse and corruption. While Golubski maintains his innocence, the voices of his accusers are finally being heard in a court of law, and the outcome of this case could have far-reaching consequences for justice in Kansas City and beyond.
