Jailed RHOP star Karen Huger denied in bid for work release
Like many jail inmates, Karen Huger raised her hand when she became eligible for work-release.
And for good reason. In Montgomery County, Maryland, where she was sentenced to 12 months for drunken driving, that meant transfer to a highly regarded facility geared toward rehabilitation and treatment that looks more like a college dorm than a jail. It would be a (very) small step toward normality for Huger, 61, who’d come to incarceration from a sprawling $2.2 million home appropriate for scenes in the TV show in which Huger starred: “The Real Housewives of Potomac.”
Huger’s application for work-release was approved by the corrections officials. All that remained was the generally routine approval from where the case started.
“She drew the wrong judge,” Montgomery County defense attorney David Moyse said. “It was just horrible luck.”
Karen Huger was sentenced to 12 months in jail after driving drunk and crashing her Maserati in Potomac, Maryland. (Courtesy of Montgomery County State's Attorney's Office)
The judge — Terrence McGann, known for his quick humor and heavy sentences — issued a “disapproval of transfer,” according to court records, the latest chapter in a story of reality TV meeting courthouse reality: in this instance, how outcomes can be so judge-dependent.
“I love Judge McGann. And as a resident of Montgomery County I am happy he’s a judge,” Moyse said. “But I am even happier if my clients never end up in front of him.”
Huger is now set to finish her sentence as one of about 835inmates at the Montgomery County Correctional Facility. Given that she has served two months so far and that she is accumulating good conduct credits, Huger will probably be released by November, according to court records and her attorney.
“The Real Housewives of Potomac” is set to enter its 10th season. It is not clear if Huger will return. A spokeswoman for the show’s network, Bravo, declined to comment.
Huger’s court case also kept her from appearing in person during the final three episodes of Season 9. That didn’t keep her six co-stars from opining about her jail stay. “Karen is 60-something years old,” Gizelle Bryant said. “To be going to jail at 60-something years old is a problem. I don’t see it going well at all.”
Through her attorney, David Martella, Huger declined to be interviewed. He said that while the jail offers some in-house treatment programs, transfer to the work-release center would have been more treatment-focused and allowed Huger to return to an outpatient program she’d been attending before she was sentenced. “It’s a great program,” Martella said. “We were disappointed she wasn’t approved.”
Residents of the facility, officially called the Montgomery County Pre-Release Center, are required to start their stays by using facility computers to seek a job that conforms to certain parameters: close enough to reach on foot or public transpiration; zero alcohol being served; nothing that involves being video or audio recorded. That last rule, while rarely invoked, would have halted Huger from any quick return to the show.
A statue outside the Montgomery County Pre-Release Center in Rockville, Maryland, is called “Starting a New Life.” (Dan Morse/The Washington Post)
At the center, residents must abide by strict schedules, which often includes Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous meetings and personal improvement classes. The front doors are unlocked from inside, but leaving during restricted times will get you an escape charge and a return to jail.
“Anyone who is really looking to make a change will do well here,” said Ivan Downing, head of community corrections for the county.
And while smartphones are forbidden, residents receive old-school, no-internet no-emailing cellphones. If they follow rules, they can see visitors every evening. The facility has TV rooms, fed by a cable package that includes the Bravo network.
Through a court system spokeswoman, McGann declined to comment. Maryland’s judges generally do not comment on cases or their deliberative processes, the spokeswoman said.
Huger’s case dates to the night of March 19, 2024, when she met a friend for dinner, drank champagne, climbed into her Maserati and headed out. Three miles from her home, she veered left onto the center median and ran over a pedestrian crossing sign. Then she veered back across the road, spun into the grass and crashed into a tree. Her air bags deployed and she was not injured, according to police.
Arriving police officers arrested Huger on suspicion of drunken driving and drove her to a station — all captured on police video. “Oh God,” Huger said to an officer at one point. “I’m lit.”
As Huger’s court case got underway, co-star Bryant claimed on a recent episode that Huger was offered a deal to plead guilty in exchange for a sentence of six months’ home confinement with a GPS ankle monitor. But according to Bryant, she wanted her day in court.
“I would have taken it,” said fellow cast member Wendy Osefo, dressed in a glitzy white gown. “I would have bedazzled my little ankle bracelet.”
(The assertion couldn’t be confirmed. Details of plea negotiations are not entered into the court record, and a spokesperson for the Montgomery State’s Attorney’s Office declined to comment.)
Going to trial meant availing herself to whatever judge was most available to handle the case — including “senior judges,” like McGann, 75, in semiretired status but still working.
He grew up in the Washington area, earned economics and law degrees from the University of Notre Dame, and worked as a prosecutor and private attorney. In 2004, Maryland Gov. Robert Ehrlich (R) appointed McGann to the bench.
In the years since, he became known around the courthouse for his long sentences and commentary around them.
“You are a pathetic human being,” he told a Gaithersburg sex abuser 2014 while handing him 40 years.
A Silver Spring man convicted of killing 83-year-old Lila Meizell faired worse. “The inhumane manner you chose to exterminate a lady well into the autumn years of her life strongly suggests that you are sadistic,” McGann told him. “A civilized society demands that you be in prison for the remainder of your life.”
He could be unpredictable as well. In a 2012 sentence review, he and two other Montgomery judges cut 12 years from the sentence for a drunk driver whose crash killed three young friends inside his car. McGann said a broader culture of underage drinking also impaired the passengers’ decision-making before entering the car.
Ivan Downing, chief of community corrections in Montgomery County, stands in the prerelease center. (Dan Morse/The Washington Post)
Downing inside a no-frills room at the center. The rooms can hold two residents, but many get their own room. (Dan Morse/The Washington Post)
Huger was convicted by a jury in December. McGann brought her back for sentencing on Feb. 26.
State guidelines, while not binding, suggested he impose probation but no jail time — a recommendation McGann ridiculed from the bench. “The guidelines offer the court a wide sentencing range: The floor is probation, and the ceiling is probation,” he said. “If there was ever a time to label guidelines as ludicrous, this is the time.”
He was influenced by Huger’s three earlier though dated drunken driving cases and imposed the 12 months. Upon her release, McGann ordered that she serve at least three years of supervised probation to include any alcohol treatment deemed necessary by her probation agent.
At the Montgomery jail where she was sent, which houses defendants sentenced to shorter stays than the state prison system, inmates typically become eligible for work-release within 12 months of their release. Huger basically raised her hand upon entry.
Officials at the county’s corrections department declined to provide statistics about how often their recommendations are declined, saying their database doesn’t track that information. But in interviews, four local defense attorneys called it rare.
McGann’s handling of the case, including the treatment component of his probation order, seemed reasonable to those who have long recommended jail time for repeat drunk drivers. “Just looking at all the facts of this case,” said Stacey D. Stewart, chief executive of Mothers Against Drunk Driving, “I think the judge was trying to send a message that this person’s behavior needed to change.”
