David Allen Funston kidnapped children. The youngest was three years old. The oldest was seven. He lured them with candy, Barbie dolls, and toys. He molested them. In one case, he kidnapped a girl in North Highlands, molested her viciously, drove her to Placerville — nearly an hour away — punched her, and kicked her out of the car.
He kidnapped two sisters. He was convicted on 16 counts of kidnapping and child molestation involving multiple young children. A Sacramento judge sentenced him to three consecutive 25-to-life terms plus additional time. Consecutive, not concurrent — meaning the sentences stack, one after another. Effectively, a life sentence.
The judge who sentenced him called him “the monster parents fear most.”
California’s parole board just decided he’s suitable for release.
The Law That Made This Possible
In 2020, California passed a law creating the Elderly Parole Program. Under this program, inmates over age 50 who have served at least 20 years — or over age 60 who have served at least 25 years — can be considered for parole. The only exceptions are death row inmates and those sentenced to life without the possibility of parole.
Funston is 64. He’s served 27 years. His sentence — three consecutive 25-to-life terms — technically includes the possibility of parole because the words “without parole” aren’t in the sentence. The law doesn’t distinguish between a man who committed a single crime in a moment of rage and a serial child predator who systematically kidnapped and molested toddlers across a metropolitan area.
Fifty years old. Twenty years served. That’s the threshold. A man who kidnaps and rapes a three-year-old at age 30 is eligible for parole at 50. Under California law, he qualifies. The nature of the crime doesn’t matter. The number of victims doesn’t matter. The judge’s assessment that he’s “the monster parents fear most” doesn’t matter. The math is the math.
“What the Hell Is Going On in California?”
Sacramento County Sheriff Jim Cooper didn’t learn about Funston’s pending release through official channels. He learned about it from a phone call — a retired sheriff’s sergeant who had worked the original child abuse investigation in 1995. The retired detective had read that Funston was being released and was furious. Cooper had no idea it was happening.
The sheriff pulled the case files. Thousands of pages. Arrest reports. Interviews with child victims — children who, Cooper noted, were “resilient” and did “an amazing job” identifying their abuser despite being three, four, five, six, seven years old. Children who had to sit with investigators and describe what a grown man did to them.
Cooper didn’t hold back: “There are some folks that deserve a second chance in life. Someone that does these types of things? They don’t deserve a second chance in life. What are we coming to as a society here in California, that it’s okay with this to let him out?”
Then he broadened the indictment. This isn’t just about Funston. It’s about a system that has systematically weakened protections for children at every turn.
Human trafficking of a child wasn’t classified as a violent felony in California until advocates fought to change it. That fight shouldn’t have been necessary. Trafficking a child should be a violent felony in every jurisdiction on earth without debate.
Under California’s mental health diversion laws, a person who kills a one-year-old infant can have their record expunged and go on to work with other children. Cooper’s words: “You can kill your one-year-old infant and get your record expunged and go work with other kids.”
“What the hell is going on in California?” Cooper asked. It’s the question that every parent in the state should be demanding an answer to.
The Victims Who Never Get a Parole Hearing
Funston’s victims don’t get parole from what he did to them. There’s no Elderly Victim Program that allows a woman who was kidnapped and molested at age three to petition for relief from the nightmares when she turns 50. There’s no board that reviews the trauma at 20-year intervals and decides she’s served enough time with the memories.
The children Funston targeted are now adults. They’re in their early thirties. They’ve spent their entire conscious lives carrying what a serial predator did to them when they were barely old enough to speak. They were the ones who had to sit in rooms with detectives and identify the man who hurt them — children who couldn’t tie their own shoes identifying a kidnapper from photographs so that justice could be served.
Justice was served. Three consecutive life sentences. A judge’s declaration that this man was the worst nightmare of every parent in America. Twenty-seven years behind bars. And now California’s parole board has decided that’s enough.
Nobody asked the victims. Nobody called the three-year-old — now in her early thirties — and asked whether she thinks the man who kidnapped and molested her has served enough time. Nobody consulted the sisters who were taken together. Nobody reached out to the girl who was punched and kicked out of a car in Placerville after being violated.
The parole board reviewed the file. Applied the formula. And decided that a 64-year-old serial child predator is suitable for release because a law passed in 2020 says the math works.
The Newsom Connection
Gavin Newsom signed the legislation that expanded parole eligibility. He’s the governor who oversees the system. He’s the man currently on a book tour telling Black audiences in Atlanta that he can’t read, while a serial child rapist walks out of prison under a program his administration supports.
Newsom could reverse the parole decision. California’s governor has the authority to review and reject parole board recommendations for certain offenses. Whether he exercises that authority in this case will tell you everything about his priorities — and about the political calculations that drive every decision in Sacramento.
If Newsom lets this stand — if the man a judge called “the monster parents fear most” walks free while the governor promotes a memoir in New York — then every word of that book tour is a performance. Every speech about caring for California’s children is theater. Every claim of leadership is fiction.
Sheriff Cooper is right. Someone has to speak up. Someone has to change this. And the man with the power to change it is currently signing books.