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The $16 billion Hudson Tunnel Project, under construction between Manhattan and New Jersey, will improve passenger rail service, an important issue for New York City commuters. It would seem to have nothing to do with what’s happening in northern Wisconsin. 

But after the White House froze federal grant funding for the project in the fall, citing concerns about diversity and equity measures, lobbyists with an interest in the tunnel donated $2,500 to a political novice running in the Republican primary in Wisconsin’s 7th Congressional District. 

The young candidate, Michael Alfonso, has no sway over the matter. However, his father-in-law does: Sean Duffy is secretary of the U.S. Department of Transportation.

The contributions are among dozens to Alfonso’s campaign from lobbyists, business executives and political action committees tied to industries — from rails and highways to shipping and air travel — that Duffy’s department funds and regulates. His department also oversees the Federal Aviation Administration.

Duffy held the 7th Congressional District seat for nearly a decade before resigning in 2019. He was succeeded by Tom Tiffany, who is now running for Wisconsin governor, leaving the seat open again. Alfonso, 26, who has worked in construction and podcasting, has been endorsed by  President Donald Trump. 

A ProPublica analysis found that many of the Alfonso donors with transportation interests had never given to Duffy or Tiffany. While legal, such donations set up the appearance that helping Alfonso might assist the donors with issues influenced by Duffy. (Politico has reported on some of these contributions.)

“The law, as it stands, provides very little constraint,” said Daniel Weiner, director of the Elections and Government Program at the Brennan Center for Justice, a law and policy institute based in New York. “There’s a very large gulf between what is legal and what is ethical. Obviously, this raises numerous ethical questions.”

This is not the first time a Cabinet secretary’s relative has created thorny ethical issues. During the first Trump administration, Transportation Secretary Elaine Chao made headlines for appearing to give preferential treatment to Kentucky officials for millions of dollars in infrastructure grants. Kentucky is the home state of her husband, Mitch McConnell, then Senate majority leader. At the time, Chao’s office denied showing any favoritism, saying that Kentucky’s share was not out of the ordinary.

And in 2012, under President Barack Obama, Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack, an Iowa Democrat, fielded questions about the separation between U.S. Department of Agriculture business and the campaign of his wife, Christie, who was running for Congress. Christie Vilsack told ProPublica in an interview that the couple was careful about making sure her husband was not involved in the campaign, other than to support her at some debates and on election night. He “never did any fundraising at all,” she said.

An influential member of Trump’s Cabinet, Duffy has been openly assisting his son-in-law’s campaign. The notice for a November “meet and greet” with Alfonso in Wausau, Wisconsin, mentioned that Duffy would be a special guest, as did an invitation for another December fundraiser. 

Among the sponsors for the December event was the political action committee for Delta Air Lines. The invitation included a caveat: “Sean Duffy is not soliciting funds in connection with this event.” 

Alfonso’s campaign did not respond to requests from ProPublica for an interview or for comment. A spokesperson for Duffy, Nathaniel Sizemore, provided a written statement saying: “The Secretary attends fundraising events in his personal capacity. Regulatory decisions are guided by career safety professionals, the law, and the facts.”

Nothing in law bars Duffy from campaigning for his son-in-law, so long as he goes about it on his personal time, does not use government resources and does not promise to take some official action in exchange for a contribution. 

Alfonso is using the same fundraising consultant, Kirstin Hopkins, that Duffy employed, Federal Election Commission records show. In addition, Alfonso has received help with ads and mailers from a super PAC, the Northwoods Future PAC, that is funded with $1 million from Duffy’s former campaign committee. Alfonso’s familial advantage has irked some Wisconsin Republicans who don’t want the newcomer to glide into such an important position.

Through his own campaign committee, Alfonso had raised a little over $305,000 as of the end of 2025, the latest filing available. By law, contributions for each election are limited to $3,500 from individuals and $5,000 from political action committees. Donors can contribute to more than one election at the same time, such as a primary race and a general.

Alfonso’s donors include lobbyist Jeffrey Miller, a finance chair of Trump’s most recent inaugural committee. In December, Miller and his company’s chief operating officer donated separately to Alfonso, for a combined $8,500. No one listing their firm, Miller Strategies, as an employer had donated to either Duffy or Tiffany in the past, according to FEC records. 

Lobbyist disclosure reports show that Miller lobbied the Transportation Department in 2025 on behalf of at least nine companies, one New York county and one Native American tribe. The issues included airport signage regulation, aviation permitting for the developer of a supersonic airliner and advancements in GPS technology. Miller reported advocating for Archer Aviation regarding electric vertical takeoff and landing aircraft technology, known as eVTOL — the basis for future flying cars.

Earlier this month, Duffy announced a first-of-its-kind FAA pilot program to test eVTOL technology in eight demonstration projects across 26 states. Archer was among the companies selected to participate, according to the Transportation Department. In a video accompanying the announcement, Duffy spoke enthusiastically about the technology, envisioning “Ubers in the air” taking people from one airport to the next and beyond. He said, “eVTOLs are going to make the airspace far more interesting and far more fun, and we have to be prepared for that.” 

Miller did not return calls or emails seeking comment. 

Alfonso graduated in 2022 from the University of Wisconsin with a math degree. He moved to Florida for a time to help produce a popular podcast hosted by Dan Bongino, a Trump supporter who later served a brief stint as deputy director of the FBI. (Bongino is back podcasting again.) 

By Alfonso’s account, he and Trump first met in 2022 at Alfonso’s wedding to Duffy’s daughter, Evita. The reception took place at one of Trump’s New Jersey golf courses.

Alfonso has said that in an Oval Office meeting after he decided to run for Congress, he pledged loyalty to the president. “I promised him that I would always be America first, I would always fight for his agenda and that nobody would ever outwork me,” Alfonso told Mark Halperin, another podcaster.

On social media in November, Alfonso thanked Duffy for coming to his first campaign event in Wausau, the city where the candidate met his future wife while they were in middle school.

The following month, the transportation secretary appeared at a campaign fundraiser for Alfonso at a hotel in Green Bay, near the storied Lambeau Field. The donors in attendance included Sharad Tak of Bethesda, Maryland, the CEO of ST LNG, a company seeking a DOT-issued license to construct and operate a deep-water port offshore of Matagorda, Texas, to load liquefied natural gas onto carriers. 

Tak gave $500 to the campaign, and his wife, Mahinder, who did not attend the function, gave $7,000. Neither had donated to Duffy or Tiffany. 

Tak did not reply to ProPublica’s request for an interview but asked a longtime friend of his, Ann Murphy of Green Bay, who works as a consultant for him, to respond. Tak owns a paper mill in Oconto Falls, north of Green Bay. It is not in the 7th Congressional District. But Murphy said Tak was visiting the state and agreed, at her request, to attend the fundraiser for Alfonso. 

She said in an interview that the Texas liquefied natural gas project had no bearing on Tak’s campaign contribution. “Absolutely not.” 

It’s typical, she said, for Tak and his wife to support causes, both political and philanthropic, that Murphy and her husband find worthwhile — and vice versa.

“We were very excited about Michael,” Murphy said of Alfonso, likening him to Charlie Kirk, the founder of Turning Point USA who inspired many young people before being killed last year. “And he does have the endorsement of President Trump.”

Others donating to Alfonso’s candidacy include political action committees for employees of the military jetmaker Lockheed Martin, which is subject to FAA safety regulations and has lucrative government contracts, and for T-Mobile, which is working on a DOT project to enhance the resilience of critical 5G infrastructure. PACs for unions and trade associations for heavy equipment operators, engineers, aeronautical services and the travel industry have also pitched in. 

The PAC for Brightline, a high-speed train service in Florida, also donated, giving $2,500 in December. Brightline trains have struck and killed more than 180 pedestrians or drivers at crossings since 2017, according to an investigation by the Miami Herald and WLRN. Duffy promised at a congressional committee hearing in July to work to “drive down the number of deaths.” In September, he announced that his department would distribute $42 million to improve safety along the line. In a statement to the Florida news organizations, Brightline officials blamed the deaths on suicides and the “reckless” behavior of people who put themselves in harm’s way. 

Brightline, T-Mobile and Lockheed Martin did not respond to ProPublica’s requests for comment. On its website, Lockheed notes that it complies with all applicable laws and regulations with regard to its political and public policy activities. 

Alfonso’s campaign has drawn donations from others in the heavily regulated railroad sector. They include Peter Bartek, founder of FTS Rail, which manufactures battery-powered railroad repair tools and sensors that detect rail breaks caused by extreme heat or cold. He gave $3,644  in November. Duffy appointed Bartek last July to serve on a DOT advisory committee. 

Bartek had never given to a candidate in the district before. In an interview, he said he read a news article about Alfonso’s campaign and decided to donate. “I like Secretary Duffy very much,” he said, “and I thought very simply, boy, if he’s anything like his father-in-law, it would be nice to support him as well.”

He said in a text that he didn’t know Duffy personally and was not involved in Alfonso’s campaign or fundraising.

In New York, construction on the Hudson Tunnel Project to improve commuter rail service came to a screeching halt in early February after the federal government cut off funds. A court intervened, ordering the money released, and work resumed. A bistate commission overseeing the project warned this month that it could face disruptions again in upcoming months if federal disbursements do not continue.

In response to outreach from ProPublica, an executive at Venture Government Strategies, whose lobbyists for the tunnel project gave a combined $2,500 to Alfonso, said in an email the company had no comment. 

On his campaign website, Alfonso lists a dozen issues “that matter to us” — ranging from education and health care to immigration. He wants to “make farms and families strong,” “give Gen Z a voice” and work against access to abortion. 

Transportation issues are not among those priorities, but he still is getting support from General Motors, which regularly lobbies DOT on various issues, including fuel economy, vehicle safety and emissions standards, and other mandates. The giant car manufacturer also gave to Duffy when he was running for the congressional seat, and the transportation secretary has become a booster. (GM did not respond to ProPublica’s request for comment.)

In mid-December, viewers of social media saw Duffy slide behind the wheel of a sleek, black, limited-edition Corvette, imbued with patriotic insignia to celebrate the nation’s upcoming 250th birthday. 

“Over 1,000 horsepower,” Duffy said in a promotional video, emphasizing the dynamic features of the $200,000 supercar. “We’re going to take this bad boy on a little test drive to the Army-Navy game.” Off he went. 

The video, uploaded to the social media platform X, highlighted a travel app the carmaker made in partnership with the Department of Transportation, while also showcasing Chevrolet’s automotive series dubbed Stars and Steel. 

The post received over 130,000 views: valuable advertisement for the storied carmaker, General Motors. A couple of weeks later, GM’s political action committee donated $1,000 to Alfonso.

Transportation lobbyists have donated thousands to Sean Duffy’s son-in-law as he runs for Congress is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

Reading Time: 8 minutes

This story was originally published by ProPublica.

Craig Stingley had no legal training, no big-name lawyer or civil rights advocate by his side. Yet for 13 years, he refused to accept that the judicial system would hold no one responsible for the killing of his 16-year-old son, Corey.

The quest for justice dominated his life. 

He gathered police reports, witness statements and other evidence in the Dec. 14, 2012, fatal incident inside a Milwaukee-area convenience store. The youth had tried to shoplift $12 worth of flavored malt beverages at the shop before abandoning the items and turning to leave. That’s when three men wrestled him to the ground to hold him for the police. 

The medical examiner determined that he died of a brain injury from asphyxiation after a “violent struggle with multiple individuals.” The manner of death: homicide. 

When prosecutors chose not to charge anyone, Stingley waged a legal campaign of his own that forced the case to be reexamined. A 2023 ProPublica investigation pieced together a detailed timeline of what happened inside the store, recounted what witnesses saw and examined the backgrounds of the three customers involved in the altercation.

Finally, this week, in an extraordinary turn of events, Stingley will see a measure of accountability. On Monday, a criminal complaint filed in Milwaukee County Circuit Court charged the surviving patrons — Robert W. Beringer and Jesse R. Cole — with felony murder. The defendants were set to appear in court on Thursday. 

Beringer’s attorney, Tony Cotton, described the broad outlines of a deferred prosecution agreement that can lead to the charges being dismissed after the two men plead guilty or no contest. The men may be required by the court to make a contribution to a charity in honor of Corey Stingley and to perform community service, avoiding prison time, according to Cotton and Craig Stingley.

In Wisconsin, felony murder is a special category for incidents in which the commission of a serious crime — in this case, false imprisonment — causes the death of another person. The prosecutor’s office in Dane County, which is handling the matter, declined to comment. Cole’s attorney said his client had no comment. Previously, the three men have argued that their actions were justified, citing self-defense and their need to respond to an emergency. 

For Stingley, a key part of the accountability process already has taken place. Last year, as part of a restorative justice program and under the supervision of a retired judge, Stingley and the two men interacted face to face in separate meetings.

There, inside an office on a Milwaukee college campus, they confronted the traumatic events that led to Corey Stingley’s death and the still-roiling feelings of resentment, sorrow and pain. 

Craig Stingley said he felt that, after years of downplaying their role, the men showed regret and a deeper understanding of what had happened. For instance, Stingley said, he and Cole aired out their different perspectives on what occurred and even reviewed store surveillance video together. 

“I have never been able to breathe as clearly and as deeply and feel as free as I have after that meeting was over,” Stingley said. 

Restorative justice programs bring together survivors and offenders — via meetings or letters or through community panels — to try to deepen understanding, promote healing and discuss how best to make amends for a wide range of harms. The approach has been used by schools and juvenile and criminal justice systems, as well as nations grappling with large-scale atrocities.

Situations where restorative justice and deferred prosecution are employed for such serious charges are rare, Cotton said. But, he said, the whole case is rare — from the prosecution declining to issue charges initially to holding it open for multiple reviews over a decade. 

“Our hearts go out to the Stingley family, and we believe that the restorative justice process has allowed all sides to express their feelings openly,” Cotton said. “We are glad that a fair and just outcome has been achieved.”

The legal quest

Milwaukee’s district attorney at the time of Corey Stingley’s death, John Chisholm, announced there would be no charges 13 months later, in January 2014. Cole, Beringer and a third man, Maurio Laumann, now deceased, were not culpable because they did not intend to injure or kill the teen and weren’t trained in proper restraint techniques, Chisholm determined. 

Craig Stingley, who is Black, and others in the community protested the decision, claiming the three men — all white — were not good Samaritans but had acted violently to kill a Black youth with impunity. “When a person loses his life at the hands of others, it would seem that a ‘chargeable’ offense has occurred,” the Milwaukee branch of the NAACP said in a statement at the time.

Looking for a way to reopen the case, Stingley reexamined the evidence, including security video. In a painful exercise, he watched the takedown of his son, by his estimation hundreds of times, analyzing who did what, frame by frame. What he saw only reinforced his view that his son’s death was unnecessary and his right to due process denied.

Corey Stingley and his father lived only blocks from VJ’s Food Mart, in West Allis, Wisconsin. That December day, Stingley made his way to the back of the store and stuck six bottles of Smirnoff Ice into his backpack. At the front counter, the teenager provided his debit card to pay for an energy drink, but the clerk demanded the stolen items. Stingley surrendered the backpack, reached toward the cash register to recover his debit card, then turned to exit.

Cole told police he extended his hand to stop Stingley and claimed that the teen punched him in the face, though it is not evident on the video. The three men grabbed the youth. During a struggle, the men pinned Stingley to the floor. 

Laumann kept Stingley in a chokehold, several witnesses told investigators. ProPublica later discovered that Laumann had been a Marine. His brother told ProPublica he likely learned how to apply chokeholds as part of his military service decades ago. 

Beringer had Stingley by the hair and was pressing on the teen’s head, a witness told authorities. Cole helped to hold Stingley down. Eventually, Stingley stopped resisting. The police report states that Cole thought the teen was “playing limp” to trick them into loosening their grip.

“Get up, you punk!” Laumann told the motionless teen when an officer finally arrived, according to a police report. Stingley was foaming at the mouth and had urinated through his clothes. The officer couldn’t find a pulse. Stingley never regained consciousness, dying at a hospital two weeks later.

Craig Stingley unsuccessfully sought a meeting with Chisholm in 2015 to discuss the lack of charges. “Feel free to seek legal advice in the private sector regarding your Constitutional Rights,” an assistant to Chisholm replied to Stingley in an email. “I extend my deepest sympathy to you and your family!”

Stingley’s review of the video, however, did bring about another legal opportunity in 2017, after he notified West Allis police that there was footage showing Laumann with his arm around the teen’s throat. (Laumann had denied putting him in a headlock.) A Racine County district attorney was appointed to review the evidence again. She issued no report for three years, until pressed by the court, then concluded that no charges were warranted. 

Finally, Stingley discovered an obscure Wisconsin “John Doe” statute. It allows private citizens to petition a judge to consider whether a crime had been committed if a district attorney refuses to issue a criminal complaint.

A former process engineer for an electrical transformer manufacturer, Stingley had no legal training. Still, in November 2020, he filed a 14-page petition with the then-chief judge of the Milwaukee County Circuit Court, Mary Triggiano. It cited legal authority and “material facts,” including excerpts from police reports, witness statements and stills from the surveillance video. Stingley quoted former U.S. Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis in the petition and the British statesman William Gladstone: “Justice delayed is justice denied.”

That led to the appointment in July 2022 of Dane County District Attorney Ismael Ozanne to review the case. But that process was slowed by procedural hurdles. Stingley took the delays in stride, saying he trusted that Ozanne and his staff were treating the matter seriously and acting appropriately.

In 2024, Stingley said, Ozanne’s office advised him that they had found sufficient evidence to issue charges against Cole and Beringer but could not guarantee that a jury would deliver a guilty verdict. Stingley, researching the family’s options, said he inquired about the restorative justice process. The DA’s office supported the idea, arranging for him and the two men to meet under the supervision of the Andrew Center for Restorative Justice, part of the law school at Milwaukee’s Marquette University. The program is run by Triggiano, who’d retired from the court.

The concept of restorative justice can be traced back to indigenous cultures, where people sat together to talk through conflict and solve problems. It emerged in the United States in criminal justice systems in the 1970s as a way to provide alternatives to prison and restitution to victims. Elsewhere, it has notably been used to address the aftermath of genocide in Rwanda, where beginning in 2002 truth-telling forums led to forgiveness and reconciliation.

Stingley, who has three remaining grown children and four grandchildren, desperately wanted “balance restored” for his family. He decided the best path forward was to meet with the men he considered responsible for his son’s death.

The quest for closure

Stingley brought photos of Corey to the restorative justice meeting with Berringer in April.

The goal: to respectfully share their perspectives on the tragedy and how it impacted each of them personally. What was said was not recorded or transcribed. It was not for use in any court proceeding. 

The sessions began with the Stingley family sharing heartfelt stories about Corey as a son, brother, student and friend. They spoke of their great bond, Corey’s love of sports and their struggle to cope with his absence. 

When discussion turned to what happened in the store, Stingley said, Berringer described having only faint memories of the fatal encounter. He recalled a brief struggle and grabbing the teen by his jacket, not his hair. 

Before departing the meeting, a tearful Beringer told Stingley he was looking for peace, Stingley recalled.

Cotton, Beringer’s attorney, told ProPublica that the incident and the legal steps affected his client in profound ways. “He’s had anxiety really from this from day one,” Cotton said.

The result, he said: “Sleeplessness. Horrible anxiety. Fearful because he has to go to court.”

Does the resolution ease Beringer’s mind? “I don’t know,” Cotton said, adding that the hope is that the Stingley family finds solace in the resolution process.

Cole, in a meeting in May with Stingley and some of his family, brought a gift: a pair of angel wings on a gold chain with a small “C” charm and several clear reflective orbs. With it came a handwritten note, saying: “I hope this sun catcher brings a gentle reflection of the love & light of Corey’s memory and that you feel his presence shining on you each day.” 

“I told him I appreciate the gesture,” Stingley said.

Cole, according to Stingley, told him that he felt something other than the altercation — perhaps some health ailment — led to Corey’s demise.

Stingley invited Cole to watch the surveillance video together at a second session. As that day neared, in July, Stingley considered backing out. “It was almost as if I had to drag myself up out of the car,” he said. But he said he realized that he’d been preparing for such an event for 13 years: to come to some honest reckoning with the men involved. 

After watching the video, he and Cole reviewed the death certificate, showing the medical examiner’s conclusions. Stingley said Cole stressed that he did not choke Corey but came to realize that what happened in the store caused the teen to lose his life, not any preexisting condition. The acknowledgment eased Stingley’s burden.

“I felt like I was reaching a place where I was finally going to get the justice that I’ve been pursuing,” Stingley said, “and this is one of the steps I had to go through to get that completed.”

Triggiano commended each of the participants for their courage in meeting and the Stingley family for “seeking the humanity of their son as opposed to vengeance.” She said Beringer and Cole “keenly listened, reflected and really acknowledged their connection to the events that led to Corey’s death.” 

“The conversations were emotional and difficult but deeply human,” she said.

After the loss of his son, Stingley wanted to see the three men imprisoned. But so many years later, justice now looks different. Now Laumann is dead. Beringer is changed by the experience. And Cole is a father eager to protect his own children. 

Now, in Stingley’s eyes, prison is beside the point. Criminal charges will stand instead as a strong signal of accountability, of justice — and of a father’s unyielding love.

ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power.

A father’s quest for justice finds resolution after 13 years is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.