It was a hot Wednesday evening at the end of June. I was outside Christ Lutheran Church, waiting for Grace to finish a basketball workout with her AAU team, when my phone rang.
My wife’s picture appeared on the screen. Tara works late on Wednesdays, and I hoped she was calling to say she was on her way home.
I answered, “Hey Tara, what’s happening?”
Her response was something I never could have imagined.
“I just got off the phone with my father. Hannah was killed today.”
In disbelief, I asked, “What? What did you say?”
With sadness in her voice, she repeated, “Hannah was killed today.”
I remember screaming, “Oh my God!”
Tara told me that Hannah had been moving out of her apartment in Rhinelander when she was abducted and then shot to death on Highway 8. Her body had been left on the side of the road. The person responsible was still at large, and police had taken Hannah’s two-year-old daughter, Nova, and Hannah’s parents into protective custody because of concerns for their safety.
Hannah was 26 years old. I had known her since the day she was born.
I could not believe this was happening to our family. It felt like something from a movie, something that could not possibly be real. My thoughts raced.
How could this happen? Were Craig, Darcy, and Nova safe? Who could have done this?
Trying to Make Sense of the Unthinkable
The days turned into weeks as we gathered with relatives to grieve and remember Hannah. Eventually, a tip led police to arrest a suspect.
But an arrest could not answer all the questions running through my mind.
As a father, I struggled with how to talk to my children about what had happened. What could I say? What should I say? How would this change the way I approached life and parenting?
In the middle of the night, my thoughts went to a place no parent wants to go: imagining one of my own daughters lying on the side of the road. I felt anger and despair.
There was no explanation I could offer that would make Hannah’s death make sense. But as I tried to process it, I kept returning to three things I wanted my daughters to understand.
1. Life Can Be Unfair and Cruel—and Each Day Is a Gift
One of the hardest things to explain to your children is that life can be unfair and dangerous. As parents, we want to protect them. We also have to prepare them for a world we cannot control.
I wanted my daughters to understand that reality without allowing it to dictate every decision they made.
Above all, I wanted them to appreciate that each day is a gift. None of us knows how much time we have.
It sounds like a cliché until something happens that forces you to confront it.
I encouraged them to bring their best selves to each day—to make the most of their time, treat people well, and appreciate the people they love. We cannot take for granted that we will always have another opportunity.
2. Make Your Safety a Priority
I do not want my daughters to live in fear. I do want them to be aware of their surroundings and thoughtful about the situations they enter.
With my oldest daughter away at college, I reminded her to walk with a friend when she was on campus at night. I stressed the importance of paying attention to what was happening around her.
I believe most people have good intentions. But that does not mean everyone we encounter deserves our trust.
I wanted my daughters to look critically at questionable situations and take time to get to know the people entering their lives. Being kind does not require ignoring concerns or setting aside good judgment.
As a father, I cannot be beside them every minute. I can keep having these conversations and encourage them to take their safety seriously.
3. Be a True Friend to the World
Even after something so terrible, I still believe in teaching my children to give something of themselves to others.
They have their own lives to build, but along the way, there will be opportunities to help, encourage, and lift someone else up.
One thing I have learned is that we rarely know everything another person is carrying. When someone says they are “fine,” are they really fine? Or are they trying to get through one of the hardest days of their life?
A little patience, a thoughtful question, or a willingness to listen can matter more than we realize.
I have always believed that the more we give, the more we receive. Few things feel as meaningful as knowing you have helped another person.
I want my daughters to stay aware of the dangers in the world while remaining willing to see the good in people and contribute some good of their own.
Remembering Those Who Keep Living With the Loss
One thing that stays with me is what happens after the funeral.
Family and friends come together. We offer love, share memories, and support one another. Eventually, people return to their routines. But the people closest to the loss continue facing it every day.
I cannot begin to imagine the depth of Hannah’s parents’ grief. Nothing can undo what happened or replace their daughter.
I am thankful they have Nova to raise and love. She is Hannah’s daughter, a living connection to someone they will always miss. She does not take away their grief, but she is a part of Hannah they can still hold in their arms.
I cannot make sense of Hannah’s death. I can only think about how I live, how I parent, and how I show up for the people I love.
I want my daughters to value their days, take care of themselves, and be kind to others. And I want to remember that a grieving family needs our love long after everyone has gone home.
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