Portland, Oregon — Jesse Andre D’Breeze, the man who spent years living under the name Jeffrey Paul Cutlip, died in prison on March 29 while in hospice care at Two Rivers Correctional Institution in Umatilla. He was 76 years old and had been serving multiple life sentences without parole for the murders of three women whose deaths haunted the Portland community for decades.
D’Breeze’s life was marked by long periods of evasion and violence. In the mid‑1970s through the early 1990s he took the lives of Marlene Carlson, Julie Bennett, and Nielene Doll in crimes that baffled investigators for years. He was never arrested at the time of those killings. It was only in 2012, after years living quietly in Brownsville, Texas, that he called police and confessed to the Oregon murders. Shortly after that call, law enforcement picked him up and brought him back to Oregon to face charges.

Those confessions brought a kind of closure to families that had waited decades for answers. Carlson was 44 when she was killed in 1975. Bennett, just 15, disappeared in 1977 and her death was long thought accidental by some until D’Breeze admitted to her murder. Doll, 33, was killed in 1993 after a brief encounter with him. Each of the victims left behind friends and family who lived with unanswered questions for years.
In 2013 D’Breeze pleaded guilty in Multnomah County and was sentenced to serve life in prison. Authorities confirmed he was never eligible for parole. Nearly a decade later he remained locked away at Two Rivers, where his death was ruled natural and no foul play is suspected. His passing closes the final chapter on a life defined by violence and legal consequence.
For the community in Portland the memories of the victims remain central. Family members and friends continue to carry their stories and remember the women for who they were, not only how they died. Carlson was known by those close to her as a friend and neighbor, Bennett was a young girl with her life ahead of her, and Doll was a mother and sister whose loss left a deep gap.
The impact of D’Breeze’s crimes stretched beyond the direct loss. They shaped conversations about cold cases and the way law enforcement follows leads across decades. His voluntary confession in 2012 helped reopen old wounds but also gave investigators the chance to finally provide answers. That closure, though bittersweet, brought a kind of peace to families who had long held out hope for truth.
Now, as the community reflects on his death, the focus shifts unequivocally to the victims. Their lives, interrupted by violence, remain in the minds of those who knew and loved them. D’Breeze’s story is one of crime and consequence, but the lasting sentiment belongs to those whose lives he cut short.