MINNEAPOLIS — Vance Boelter sat like a statue as his victims exposed the raw wounds with which he left them after he carried out the most shocking act of political violence in the history of Minnesota.

In a federal courtroom, before Boelter was sentenced to two consecutive life prison sentences plus 40 years for killing Rep. Melissa and Mark Hortman and attempting to kill Sen. John and Yvette Hoffman, they read victim impact statements. They laid bare the physical anguish, mental trauma, raging anger and ultimate resolve they live with because of Boelter’s crimes.

“He destroyed the lives of so many,” Yvette Hoffman said, looking at Boelter. “In the end, he destroyed his own life.”

Before he was sentenced, Boelter approached the podium and addressed the court. “To every person I have caused loss, pain, heartache, confusion, sadness, shame, or loneliness, I am truly sorry,” he said. As he spoke, some supporters of his victims stood and left the room.

In the span of two hours on the morning of June 14, 2025, Boelter donned a mask, shot the Hoffmans, travelled to the homes of Reps. Ann Rest and Kristin Bahner in a plot to kill them, and then killed the Hortmans before fleeing into the night, sparking the largest manhunt in state history. He was arrested the next night, after being found crawling through a field near Green Isle, Minn.

“It was an attack on democracy itself,” Judge John Tunheim said.

Despite its wide-ranging impact, the crimes were also deeply personal.

The Hortmans’ daughter Sophie Hortman, described in anguished detail the decision she had to make with her brother, Colin, to put their family dog, Gilbert, to sleep after Boelter shot the beloved golden retriever.

“My entire life had been shattered in 30 seconds at 3:30 that morning,” Sophie said. “My parents were dead. The dog had been shot multiple times. My brother was wrecked and we had to stand up and keep going.”

Boelter tilted his head slightly, as Sophie explained how she and Colin decided at the recommendation of the veterinarian to put Gilbert to sleep. They knew it was right, so Gilbert could be with their parents.

When they walked into see him, Sophie said Gilbert shakily lifted his head to greet them. He was wrapped in a green flannel blanket with his big head and paws poking through. Sophie said he looked at her and Colin with “wet, dark eyes” as if he was crying, but still wanted to give them a lick with his big tongue.

At some point, they looked down to see that Colin’s hands were covered in blood. He didn’t know if it was from Gilbert, his mom or his dad. He went to wash his hands. One of Sophie’s friends, who held her hand through the trauma, went outside and threw up.

It gave Sophie some relief.

“Someone needed to respond appropriately to the horror that happened to us,” Sophie said.

“This was June 14, 2025,” she continued, as sobs echoed throughout the courtroom. “Justice can never be served for those we lost. I miss my mom. I miss my dad.”

Colin described the horror he lives with, and the thought that his parents’ final moments were screams. Seeing his mom with staples in her head. Bullet holes in her body.

“These are the images that torture me,” Colin said.

He described his mom missing his wedding. Of wishing he had turned 15 minute stops to see them into 30 minute stops. He recalled their family kitchen, always smelling like something was baking. He talked of being his mom’s “little buddy,” sitting on her couch, resting his head on her shoulder. It was a routine that “could take any pain away.”

“That was her power,” Colin said. “That memory was shot 15 times.”

The Hoffmans described losing their daily security. Installing steel doors. Increasing security. Ending mail delivery to their home. John Hoffman described losing the normal ability to go to the bathroom, to go to sleep, to perform his favorite hobby, playing the drums. “Every ordinary, boring moment forever altered by extraordinary violence,” Hoffman said.

The shootings were the implementation of Boelter’s plan to rattle the political foundation of the state. He had plotted it for some time. Court filings say he frequently sent text messages to friends and family about the balance of power between the political parties in Minnesota, about the Republican U.S. House majority being “in danger” and that “Democrats steal enough elections to tip the balance of power.”

After he killed one of the most prominent Democrats in Minnesota, and attempted to kill several others, he messaged his family that, “Dad went to war last night.”

On Thursday, he sat in an orange sweatsuit. His body appeared frail. No one was there in support of him.

“Your mission failed,” Bahner said, turning to look at Boelter. “Your judgement will be left to the courts and to God himself.”

Several family members of the Hortmans lamented that the federal government refused to pursue the death penalty against Boelter. They told Judge Tunheim they wanted more information about how police responded to the shooting. They wanted the highest punishment in the country has to offer, that Boelter be hung or electrocuted.

There were also several instances where family members discussed how Boelter’s belief that he was carrying out a political war were part of a miserable viewpoint that has crept into certain corners of the country. They vowed to carry on the political message that Melissa Hortman lived with.

Rep. Zack Stephenson, Minnesota’s current DFL house leader, read from an interview Melissa had given explaining why she tried to reach across the aisle to find solutions as a state politician.

“We’re all in this because we want to make people’s lives better,” Hortman had said. “We just have different ways we think we can accomplish that.”

“That was Melissa Hortman,” Stephenson said.

After John Hoffman told Tunheim about Boelter shooting him eight times, and Yvette nine times, Hoffman turned to Boelter and said the faith that Boelter had espoused throughout his life meant nothing in the wake of his actions.

“You know them by their fruits,” Hoffman quoted Matthew 7:16.

He then listed Boelter’s fruits: Bloodshed, murder and attempted murder.

Hoffman told the judge that he hoped the sentence would reflect a clear resolution: “In our democracy, violence will never triumph over justice.”

Tunheim sentenced Boelter to two consecutive terms of life imprisonment, followed by 40 years in prison. Tunheim said it was the longest sentence he’d ever imposed.

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