Hey, Crime Salad listeners, I'm Ashley.

And I'm Ricky.

Now, before we jump into today's case, we want to take a moment to thank you, all of you for picking up Crime Sal merch, for sharing our episodes with other true crime

fans, for supporting us on Patreon or Apple, and for leaving such kind and thoughtful reviews.

Every bit of your support helps us keep doing what we love, telling stories that matter.

So truly, thank you. Now, let's get into this week's episode. The story we're talking about this week

involves a few trigger warnings. One major warning comes with the tragic death of a child

and includes themes of mental health crisis and parental violence. Listener discretion is strongly

advised. Please take care of yourself while listening, and if you need to skip this

episode or step away at any point, we completely understand.

Depth between the rolling hills of Tuscareraris and Carroll counties sits a place that

looks like a picture of peace. Atwood Lake Park is where

northeast Ohio families go to escape. It's just an easy hours drive from Akron or Cleveland.

But it's far enough that you can hear the world go quiet. It's one of the region's best spots for

sailing and pleasure boating, with calm water that mirrors

the sky and a wide sandy beach that fills each summer with laughter, picnics, and the smell

of sunscreen and grilled food. It's the kind of place where you can imagine generations

coming back year after year, kids chasing each other along the shore, parents teaching them

to swim, couples running

pontoon boats to drift across the afternoon. Atwood is built on the idea that the outdoors

can heal, that if you spend enough time on calm water, maybe life feels a little more manageable.

But in the summer of 2025, that calm was broken.

...