Welcome to So Dead, a podcast that'll leave you saying, holy shit by the end.

Or at least, that's our intention.

I'm Jen Carpenter.

And I'm Danny Fairman.

Happy True Crime Tuesday.

And happy Taco Tuesday, Deadheads.

Now, one of our things that were big sticklers on here at So Dead is jumping right into the

stories.

So we are going to do that today, but we have

some announcements at the end. So make sure you stay tuned. We're going to talk about our live show.

We're going to talk about some other things we've got coming up. So make sure you stick around for that.

Yeah, don't turn us off. Please. In this week's episode, we're covering a story so big it takes both of us to tell it.

Oh, man.

It's local.

It's kind of recent.

And to say it hits close to home would be an understatement.

So let's jump in.

Let's get to it.

Let's do it.

On the morning of April 10, 2002, a dairy farmer and his family on the way to Bible

school in Clinton County stumbled upon a scene straight out of a horror movie.

As they drove past a dilapidated old farmhouse on a rural road in Ovid, a small town

...