I should have never gotten involved, and I'm deeply sorry
In October 2022, a Pennsylvania man named Alan Byerly received a sentence of nearly three years in federal prison for his role in the January 6, 2021 Capitol breach — a moment when a rally became a riot and ordinary citizens became perpetrators of violence against journalists and law enforcement alike. His case is neither the most severe nor the most minor among the nearly 900 federal charges stemming from that day, but it carries the weight of a larger reckoning: how a crowd's momentum, a stranger's shout, and a single decision can collapse the distance between bystander and assailant. The judge found remorse where it was offered, and the law found its measure in two years and ten months — a sentence that will outlast the moment that caused it.
- A man who traveled to Washington for a political rally crossed into federal crime when he attacked a journalist and charged at police officers with a stun gun he had purchased in advance.
- AP photographer John Minchillo was grabbed, pushed, and dragged toward a hostile crowd — his press lanyard making him a target rather than a witness.
- Officers bracing the Capitol's perimeter heard the crack of a stun gun and felt genuine fear, even though the weapon was too cheap to cause serious harm — the threat was real enough in the moment.
- Byerly told the court he had been an 'antagonistic jerk,' that he acted on a stranger's shout, and that he wished he had never gotten involved — and the judge believed him.
- With nearly 300 of 900 defendants now sentenced and prison terms ranging from seven days to ten years, Byerly's two years and ten months lands him squarely in the middle of a still-unfolding legal accounting for that day.
On a Friday in October 2022, Alan Byerly — a 55-year-old from Fleetwood, Pennsylvania — stood before US District Judge Randolph Moss and was sentenced to two years and ten months in federal prison for his conduct during the January 6, 2021 Capitol breach. He had traveled to Washington for the "Stop the Steal" rally, purchased a stun gun beforehand, and when the crowd surged toward the Capitol, he made choices that carried lasting consequences.
On the Capitol's Lower West Terrace, Byerly turned on AP photographer John Minchillo, who was visibly identified by his press lanyard. Byerly grabbed him, pushed him backward, and dragged him toward the crowd — the assault captured on video by another photographer. Later, as police worked to hold the line, Byerly activated the stun gun and moved toward officers. The weapon was cheap and posed little real danger, but the officers had no way of knowing that. Their fear was genuine.
Byerly pleaded guilty in July and told the court he had acted like an "antagonistic jerk," spurred by someone in the crowd shouting that Minchillo was antifa. "I should have never gotten involved, and I'm deeply sorry," he said. Judge Moss found the remorse credible, describing the events as an assault on democracy while settling on a sentence below what prosecutors sought but above what the defense requested. Byerly received credit for fifteen months already served.
His case sits within a vast legal landscape: nearly 900 people charged federally for January 6, more than 420 guilty pleas, and nearly 300 sentences handed down — roughly half involving prison time. Over 100 officers were injured that day, and more than 270 defendants face charges specifically related to assaulting or impeding law enforcement. Byerly was not a ringleader or militia member. He was a man who arrived at a rally, heard a voice, and made a choice — one that will define the next several years of his life.
Alan Byerly, a 55-year-old from Fleetwood, Pennsylvania, stood before US District Judge Randolph Moss on a Friday in October 2022 and heard his sentence: two years and ten months in federal prison. The crime was straightforward and brutal. On January 6, 2021, Byerly had traveled to Washington for the "Stop the Steal" rally, bought a stun gun beforehand, and when the crowd surged toward the Capitol, he became one of hundreds who crossed the line from protest into violence.
He attacked Associated Press photographer John Minchillo on the Capitol's Lower West Terrace. Minchillo was wearing a lanyard with AP lettering when Byerly and others around him decided he was the enemy. Byerly grabbed him, pushed him backward, and dragged him toward the crowd. Another photographer captured the assault on video. Later, as police tried to hold the line, Byerly activated the stun gun and charged at the officers. The weapon was cheap and ultimately ineffective, but the officers didn't know that. They heard the sound, felt the threat, and their fear was real.
Byerly pleaded guilty in July. Before sentencing, he told the judge he had been an "antagonistic jerk" when he confronted the police. He said he'd heard someone shout, "That's antifa. Get him out of here," and that voice had pushed him to attack Minchillo. In his statement to the court, Byerly said simply: "I should have never gotten involved, and I'm deeply sorry for my actions." Judge Moss believed him. The judge said Byerly appeared genuinely remorseful for his role in what he called an "assault on democracy."
The sentencing reflected a careful calculation. Prosecutors had asked for at least three years and ten months. Byerly's lawyers pushed for less, arguing the guidelines range of 37 to 46 months was too severe. Moss split the difference, landing on two years and ten months—nearly three years. Byerly would get credit for the fifteen months he'd already served since his arrest. None of his victims came to the hearing.
Byerly's case is one thread in a much larger tapestry. Nearly 900 people have been charged with federal crimes for their conduct on January 6. More than 420 have pleaded guilty, though most to misdemeanor offenses. Nearly 300 have been sentenced so far. Of those, roughly half received prison time, ranging from a week to a decade. Over 100 police officers were injured that day. More than 270 defendants have been charged specifically with assaulting, resisting, or impeding officers or Capitol employees. Byerly is among several charged with attacking members of the news media or destroying their equipment.
What made Byerly's case notable was not its uniqueness but its ordinariness within the larger pattern. He was not a ringleader. He was not part of an organized militia. He was a man who showed up to a rally, got caught in a crowd, heard a voice, and made a choice. The stun gun he brought couldn't have seriously hurt anyone, but the officers couldn't have known that. Their fear was justified. Minchillo's fear was justified. And now Byerly will spend nearly three years in prison, followed by three years of supervised release, thinking about the moment he decided to get involved.
Notable Quotes
I should have never gotten involved, and I'm deeply sorry for my actions.— Alan Byerly, in his statement to the court
They were clearly frightened by it. It undoubtedly added to the fear the officers felt that day.— Judge Randolph Moss, on the stun gun's effect on police officers
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Byerly attack the photographer specifically? Was there something about the press that set him off?
He said he heard someone shout that the photographer was antifa and needed to be removed. That voice—that accusation—was enough. He didn't know Minchillo. He just saw the lanyard and the crowd's anger and acted on it.
And the stun gun—did he plan to use it, or was it just something he brought along?
He bought it before he came to Washington. So there was intent there. But when he used it, charging at police, it was in the moment. The judge noted it was cheap and wouldn't have caused real injury, but the officers heard it activate and felt afraid. That fear was the damage.
He apologized. Do you think he meant it?
The judge thought so. Byerly called himself an antagonistic jerk and said he should never have gotten involved. Whether that's genuine remorse or the words a man says when facing prison, I can't know. But the judge believed him enough to sentence him below what prosecutors asked for.
What strikes you most about this case?
That it's so ordinary. He's not a conspiracy theorist or a militia member. He's a man from Pennsylvania who went to a rally and made a choice in a crowd. Nearly 900 people were charged. Most pleaded guilty. Most got prison time. This is what happens when a crowd becomes a mob—ordinary people do extraordinary harm.
And the photographer—what happened to him after?
The source doesn't say. He was dragged, assaulted on camera, and then presumably went back to work documenting the riot. His name is in the court record now, tied to Byerly's crime. That's what remains.