A newly surfaced police report from 1988 reveals that Maine Democratic Senate nominee Troy Jackson kicked in a door, punched a romantic rival in the face, and was accused by his own partner of shoving her, raising fresh questions about a party already reeling from its last candidate's collapse.
Jackson, now 58 and a fifth-generation logger who spent 20 years in the Maine Senate, the last six as president of the chamber, was 19 years old when he showed up at a home in Fort Kent, a small town on the Canadian border, at roughly 2 a.m. on March 12, 1988. The occupant told him to leave. Jackson kicked the door in instead.
What followed, according to the police report first obtained by the Bangor Daily News, was a physical confrontation driven by jealousy. Jackson grabbed the unidentified man by the throat, punched him in the face hard enough that the man's glasses cut his skin, and warned him to "stay away from Lana Pelletier or else." A friend eventually stepped in and separated the two men.
But the police report did not end there. Pelletier, described in the document as Jackson's ex-girlfriend, told officers that Jackson "pushed her around" after the fight and said she intended to pursue a "cease harassment" order against him. There is no indication she ever sought that order.
In a statement provided to the New York Post, Jackson acknowledged the fight but drew a hard line on the allegation involving Pelletier:
"Nearly forty years ago, when I was 19 years old, I got into a fight with another man. I took responsibility for it then, and I take responsibility for it now. But let me be clear: I have never been violent with my partner Lana, or any other woman. This happened nearly four decades ago, and I assure Mainers this incident in no way reflects the man I am today or the life I've led in the years since."
Pelletier, who shares two adult children with Jackson and is also his second cousin, issued her own statement disputing the account police attributed to her nearly four decades ago:
"I do not remember making the statements attributed to me, and they are not accurate. This is the first time I have seen this report from 40 years ago. Troy and I have built a life and family together, and I know the person he has been through the decades since, both as a caring partner and father."
The court file tied to the 1988 case has since been destroyed, leaving no independent record of how the matter was formally resolved. Indications exist that Jackson paid $50 to settle the case, a sum that, even by 1988 standards, suggests the system treated a door kicked off its hinges and a man punched in the face as barely worth the paperwork.
Jackson landed on the ballot only because Maine Democrats' original Senate nominee, Graham Platner, dropped out of the race in July after a former girlfriend accused him of rape. The party turned to Jackson as its replacement to challenge five-term Republican Sen. Susan Collins.
That swap was supposed to stabilize a race Democrats view as essential to their path back to a Senate majority. Republicans currently hold a 53-47 advantage, and AP News reported that Maine is considered a necessary pickup for Democrats to gain the minimum four seats they need to flip the chamber. Senate Democratic Leader Chuck Schumer had initially backed Gov. Janet Mills before reluctantly supporting Platner, only to watch that candidacy implode.
Now the replacement candidate carries his own baggage. And multiple Democrats questioned about the 1988 police report claimed they knew nothing about it, according to Fox News Digital, raising pointed questions about whether the party rushed Jackson onto the ticket without adequate vetting, again.
The Republican National Committee wasted no time framing the pattern. "Troy Jackson is Graham Platner 2.0: Violent and unhinged," the RNC said in a statement, per Fox News Digital.
That comparison is blunt, but the underlying question is legitimate: how did a party that just lost one nominee to a cascade of damaging personal revelations fail to surface a 1988 police report before handing Jackson the nomination?
The 1988 incident is the only criminal case tied back to Jackson, but it is not the only time his conduct has drawn scrutiny. He previously faced accusations of throwing a water bottle at a female state Senate colleague during an argument. His campaign acknowledged the dispute but denied Jackson targeted the woman with the bottle.
Breitbart reported that Jackson has also faced questions about late state income tax payments, an ethics complaint over his residency, and controversial votes on transgender policies involving minors. Older campaign biographies referred to Pelletier as Jackson's wife, though the two never married.
None of those issues alone would necessarily sink a candidacy. Stacked together, they paint a picture of a nominee whose personal and professional record received far less scrutiny than a Senate race demands, a problem compounded by the fact that Maine Democrats had already warned national party leaders to stay out of their internal selection process.
The most uncomfortable tension in Jackson's defense is the gap between what Pelletier says now and what the police report says she told officers then. The document states plainly that she told cops Jackson "pushed her around" and that she intended to seek a cease harassment order. Pelletier now says she does not remember making those statements and calls them inaccurate.
Jackson, for his part, does not dispute that he kicked in a door, grabbed a man by the throat, and punched him in the face. He calls it a fight between two men, takes responsibility for it, and insists it says nothing about who he is today. Whether Maine voters, and national Democrats banking on this seat, accept that framing will shape a race the party cannot afford to lose.
The court file that might have settled some of these questions no longer exists. The police report does. And it arrived at the worst possible moment for a party that keeps telling voters to trust its judgment on candidates.
Democrats needed a clean nominee in Maine. They are now zero for two, and the uncomfortable details keep piling up on a candidate the party barely vetted before putting him on the ballot.
At some point, the question stops being about what happened in 1988 and starts being about why the people running the Democratic Party's Senate strategy keep picking candidates whose pasts they haven't bothered to check.