Lying for love
Jake Severino had such a sad, sad story.
When I wrote about Severino last summer, he was a promising 24-year-old brought low by a terminal brain tumor. His family and friends had arranged a fund-raiser at Florian Hall in Dorchester. They approached me and asked whether I could help get the word out. They were concerned about making sure his wife, Kelli, would be able to care for him and bury him when the time came.
They needn't have worried.
Jake Severino is in good physical health, though you should feel free to question his sanity. He never had a brain tumor. He was never dying. The whole thing was a scam from start to tearful finish.
Before I get to his psychobabble explanation, delivered via a telephone interview yesterday, a couple of points: There is no indication whatsoever that his wife or her relatives were anything other than victims here.
Also, nearly all of the $48,000 that was raised on his behalf is still in an account at Mt. Washington Bank, and the family pledges that it will be returned to donors, with apologies, as soon as possible. Access to the fund required the consent of two trustees, and the couple had no direct access to the money.
Severino and his wife both work at the University of Massachusetts at Boston, where he is also a student. Officials there gradually began to doubt Severino's story. Citing privacy regulations, a university spokesman declined to say specifically what sparked their suspicions. DeWayne Lehman would not say whether he faces firing or expulsion, though both would seem like safe bets.
Kelli Severino's suspicions came about gradually. First there was his unusual resilience, which was at first inspiring but then mysterious. There was his insistence that he attend every medical appointment alone. There was his refusal to answer questions after his "appointments" - which, again, seemed at first like an attempt to shield her from misery, and later as mere stonewalling.
She said she found it hard, as her suspicions mounted, to believe her husband could be conning her.
"There were good days and bad days, but I'm not a doctor," she said. "I didn't know what to expect. I trusted him as my husband."
But the story just wasn't adding up anymore. Last week, she confronted him. "I kept asking and I kept asking, and he broke down and told me he'd made it all up," she said. "He said it all got out of hand and he couldn't stop it."
Jake Severino had a simple explanation for why he started telling the world he was dying. "I wanted to be loved," he said. "I wanted to be loved more than I was."
He had never wanted the fund-raiser, he said, and thought of telling his wife the truth as they rode to Florian Hall for the event. It wasn't the right time, he decided. But is there ever a good time to tell your wife that you're not really dying, that you made it all up?
The Severinos' alleged plight came to the Globe's attention through Catherine O'Neill, a Dorchester resident and all-around good neighbor. She did not know the Severinos personally, but knows Kelli's mother and was convinced the story was legit.
"I thought we were doing a good thing at the time," O'Neill said yesterday. For whatever it's worth, I have occasionally tried to help someone in need via a column, and this is the first time I have ever regretted it.
Not surprisingly, Jake and Kelli Severino are in the process of separating.
"I shouldn't have ever lied," he said.
True.
"I've lost my wife, I'm losing my family, I'm losing everything," he said.
I cannot muster any sympathy for Jake Severino and his pathetic need for "more love." My sympathies are with his wife, especially, and her family.
And also with the next honest person in need, who will face an ever more cynical and suspicious public.
Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at walker@globe.com 