One of the most shocking moments occurred when Daryl Smith, the main suspect in my father’s murder, contacted me. On the morning of December 13, 2023, I woke up to a message from him on social media. My heart raced as I realized who it was.
OHIO, United States — From the moment I learned someone murdered my father, I think about what happened every day. Twenty-two years ago, someone killed him, and I found out 10 years later. My research motivated me to start a podcast called Ice Cold Case, where I delve into the chilling details of this crime.
My journey took a dramatic turn when I met and interviewed Daryl Smith, the main suspect in my father’s murder. Sitting face-to-face with him shook me to my core. After our conversation, I grappled with his words, trying to sift through what might or might not be true. Overwhelmed, I sat in prolonged silence, wrestling with an unsettling flood of thoughts.
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Growing up in a family touched by divorce, my dad and I forged a special bond despite the distance. He made a point of visiting me, and we shared laughs and played basketball. I recall my dad having a knack for lighting up a room with his humor, making every moment we spent together memorable.
I felt a deeper connection with him than with my mom, with whom I occasionally argued. My sister, on the other hand, seemed closer to our mother, and it bothered me whenever she clashed with dad. The memories I have with him are precious, perhaps even more so because I lost him so suddenly. It’s as if my mind is holding on tightly, reminding me, “This is all you have, so cherish it.”
I was just six years old, splashing around in the pool at my cousins’ house in Texas when I saw my grandmother walking towards me. Her face bore a seriousness I had never seen before. “We have to go, your father has passed away,” she said. In that instant, and throughout the plane ride home, I felt like I was in a movie. Everything around me seemed surreal.
At my grandmother’s house, I have a vivid memory of standing in the bedroom, about to walk down the stairs into the living room where the family was gathered, with the full awareness that my life was about to take a complete turn. I had a strong intuition. At that time, they told me that my father had suffered a heart attack. That story stayed with me for years.
The following month, when school started, everyone kept asking me how I felt, and today those memories are colored by the truth revealed later on. I wonder if many of the people who asked me knew that someone murdered my father. I’m not sure if they thought I was unaware of the facts, or if they believed I was trying to avoid what had happened. I try to delve into my memories in search of strange reactions or signs, but I can’t seem to find any.
At 16 years old, I visited the cemetery with my paternal family to place a plaque on my dad’s grave. It was there that I encountered my cousin Omar, and a strange sensation washed over me. For the first time, I felt like he was hiding something, that there was more to my father’s story than I knew. It seemed like some force was trying to nudge the truth closer to me. I’m not usually one for spiritual experiences, but that feeling was undeniable.
In the car, I couldn’t shake this nagging feeling. I turned to my mom and asked, “Did Dad really die of a heart attack?” She couldn’t hold back her tears. She confessed that he had been murdered, and shockingly, she mentioned that Omar might have been there when it happened. At that moment, my world shifted irreversibly.
I understand why they might have wanted to shield a six-year-old from such a harsh reality but discovering the truth after 10 years of deception made me furious. I felt I had the right to know, that I could have handled it. If I hadn’t asked specific questions, it seemed like the truth might have been buried forever.
Growing up, my cousin and I thrived on creativity, constantly embarking on projects like making videos, writing scripts, and stretching our imaginations with the resources available in our town. When I left for college, I kept the creative spirit alive by producing home videos with friends, often injecting humor into our work. However, after learning the truth about my father’s death, my creative focus shifted. I wondered, “How can I use these skills to explore this case further?” That led me to blend my passion for creativity with my need for answers.
In 2020, I decided to get serious about creating a podcast dedicated to my father’s case. I obtained the police file and delved deep into the investigation. I was incredibly nervous, especially about sharing it with others. When I finally gathered the courage to launch the podcast, part of me assumed no one would listen. Strangely, the thought of having a limited audience felt comforting.
Exploring my father’s life turned into a complex journey. I had to come to terms with his involvement in drug dealing and other harmful activities. Despite this, he was a great friend, a loving father, and a kind neighbor. This duality taught me that life is nuanced, a theme I wanted to highlight in my podcast.
Life isn’t simply black and white. It is filled with shades of gray. My father deserved to be humanized. While I don’t condone his actions, I understand that he had his reasons, and he still deserved justice. He transcended the mere label of a drug dealer; he loved and received love, aided those in need, and offered shelter to people, embodying a life brimming with contradictions.
This journey grappling with my father’s murder helped me view others with more empathy. When I read a story, I remind myself that the person in question is someone’s uncle, father, or brother, and their life likely encompasses more than what the news reports. I believe that the person who killed my father was not a good person, but to someone, he was important. Someone loves him and I think that’s okay. Love is the lens through which we view the world.
When I launched the podcast, I was surprised by its rapid popularity. It gained traction quickly, which was exhilarating yet nerve-wracking due to the personal content. As a producer, I felt thrilled that people appreciated my efforts. I believe the ends justify the means. If the podcast helps solve the case, I’d do it a thousand times over. Even if it doesn’t lead to a resolution, it still brings me closer to the truth and aids in finding closure.
The success of the first season was beyond my expectations. It validated my skills and boosted my confidence. The connection with the audience was so strong that some listeners even started offering tips for the investigation. It was exactly the kind of engagement I had hoped for, even if it seemed like a long shot at first.
One of the most shocking moments occurred when Daryl Smith, the main suspect in my father’s murder, contacted me. On the morning of December 13, 2023, I woke up to a message from him on social media. My heart raced as I realized who it was. Unsure of his intentions, I quickly contacted my lawyer, fearing he might want to take legal action against me.
I had often wondered how I would react if I ever met the person who might have killed my father. When the moment came, my response surprised me. I felt empathy for him, saw him as a human being, and genuinely wanted to hear his story. I thought his words might reveal a part of my father’s world previously unknown to me. So, I agreed to meet him in Ohio.
Our conversation turned out surprisingly amicable and, I believe, honest. We talked about my father, the times they shared, and life in the city where they lived. It felt surreal to converse with someone who could potentially be my father’s murderer. I can’t be certain, but it’s a possibility. I realized that I don’t harbor hatred; I’m simply seeking justice. If Daryl indeed was the killer, then he should face a fair trial and receive an appropriate sentence. Nothing more.
As we spoke, I thought to myself, “Here is a person who seems willing to help me.” We talked for hours, until four-thirty in the afternoon, in a public library. When we finally parted, I was left feeling confused and frustrated, yet somehow closer to the truth. As we stood up to say goodbye, I asked him, “Is it weird if I give you a hug?”
He approached, we embraced, and then he left. I sat in my car, reflecting on the encounter and taking notes. It took a while to make sense of everything. On one hand, I felt as though I had lifted a huge burden off my shoulders; on the other, it was as if I had taken on a new one.
I had managed to speak with the prime suspect. If not him, then who was the killer? Processing everything and discerning whether he was being truthful or not felt challenging. I sat in silence for a long time, waiting for my thoughts to unravel.
I’m faced with a challenging task: compartmentalizing my emotions and moving forward. I often find myself dissociating, but I strive to maintain my role as a producer, despite the turmoil I experience as a daughter. There are days when I feel overwhelmed, with all the emotions I suppressed suddenly bearing down on me. I cannot say if my approach is entirely healthy, but for now, it works for me.
My motivation for creating this podcast wasn’t just to have a platform; I genuinely wanted to solve my father’s case. I want to uncover the truth about what happened to him. Although I sometimes get sidetracked, I always refocus on the investigation. This case has caused me to miss out on time with friends, other projects, and events.
I believe that once I find closure in this story, I’ll be able to dedicate my time to other pursuits. Perhaps I can assist others in similar situations, helping them uncover the truth and find closure in their own lives. Maybe I can lend my production expertise to those who lack it. I’m not sure what the future holds, but I feel optimistic that I’m going to be okay.