Duluth man who says he can’t remember killing girlfriend sentenced to 20 years

DULUTH — The mother of a Duluth woman who was killed by her boyfriend earlier this year started her victim impact statement by introducing herself — and acknowledging the deep blue urn she had set on the table in front of her.

“This is Allisa,” Kerry Ehlenbach told the court.

Ehlenbach was among a handful of Allisa Marie Vollan’s family members who spoke Monday morning in St. Louis County Court ahead of Dale John Howard’s sentencing for second-degree murder while committing domestic assault, which he claims to not remember. At the time of her death Vollan had a no-contact order against Howard, who had beaten her and threatened to murder her days earlier — violence witnessed by neighbors in Duluth’s Central Hillside neighborhood.

Judge Theresa Neo sentenced Howard, who pleaded guilty in September, to 20 years in prison. As part of a plea agreement, Howard agreed to an upward departure from the state’s sentencing guidelines — which was allowed because of the no-contact order against him.

Vollan’s family packed into the courtroom wearing T-shirts with the victim’s face, the words “We will remember Allisa Marie Vollan” and the purple ribbon used to symbolize domestic violence awareness. This past weekend there had been a memorial march for the victim. They spoke about the 10-pound baby born to a 90-pound teen mom and how Vollan changed everyone’s life for the better. Through a proxy, her grandfather told of picking apples with her and the sound of her voice singing in the car. Her grandmother said Vollan planned to take care of her when she got old.

They described the 27-year-old with her big brown eyes as having loads of positivity and an ease with making friends. She might have been a marine biologist or an interior designer, her cousin said. She never got to be 28 years old, they said.

Still more people who knew her submitted letters to the court.

Some of the family members who spoke expressed hatred toward Howard, who they described as soulless and a monster, and questioned his lack of memory from the night of her death. They were angry that he had been charged with just second-degree murder.

“What is the meaning of justice?” Vollan’s grandfather Dean Ehlenbach wrote in his statement. “It’s not about fairness to the victim. We want first-degree murder charges.”

Vollan’s cousin Anna Pace described the loss of a role model and the joy that was stolen from the family.

“This injustice has left us feeling powerless and angry,” she said. “How do we move forward when the system meant to protect us has failed us.”

Vollan and Howard, 25, had been dating about 6 months in March when Duluth police officers responded to a morning call to their duplex. They found Howard beneath a blanket alongside Vollan, who was dead by strangulation. Upstairs neighbors at the duplex said they heard a woman crying after midnight, an angry male voice, muffled moaning, thuds and the sound of something being dragged — sounds they recorded. Video surveillance showed Howard leaving the apartment to go to downtown bars.

Neo gave Howard the opportunity to speak, which he declined with a subtle shake of his head. Later, he changed his mind and in a raspy whisper described Vollan as “the world’s greatest treasure.”

“I’ll never forget everything she’s given me, which I don’t deserve,” he said. “And I love her so much.”

His declaration didn’t sit well with Vollan’s family members — one who responded aloud, “Are you kidding me?” — or the judge. Neo firmly told him that love means helping, not hurting, someone.

“You didn’t just take one life,” she said. “You took part of dozens of lives.”