The 911 call came in at 3:45 a. m. on July 12th. Michael Kendrick, frantic and slurring his words, told the dispatcher that a man had punched him, knocked him out, and kidnapped his seven-year-old stepson, Hershel, from the front porch of their Dayton home.

“Somebody I’ve been helping all my life,” Michael insisted. “He took my son. If y’all don’t get them, I’m gonna get them. ”
But the dispatcher noted something strange.
The caller appeared to be intoxicated. And when officers arrived at the Xenia Avenue residence, they found no signs of a struggle, no evidence that the boy had been taken at all. By 8 a. m.
, the Dayton Police Department had alerted the public that Hershel Creechbomb Jr. was missing. The little boy, born in November 2017, had cerebral palsy, autism, and couldn’t speak. He used a wheelchair and needed help with nearly everything.
His family described him as a happy, joyful child who loved green, light-up toys, and always had a smile on his face. Ashley Johnson and Michael Kendrick were brought in for interviews. And that’s when their stories began to unravel. Ashley first claimed she’d seen Hershel a day earlier.
Then she changed her story. She told investigators that in late May, she’d been hospitalized. While there, Michael called her and said Hershel was dead. She claimed she believed he’d died of natural causes.
Michael’s account was different. He admitted he’d been drinking that day. He said he’d been arguing with someone on the phone and struck Hershel twice. He claimed he shoved the boy, who bounced off the floor.
He said the child was injured but still alive until the next day, when he allegedly found him unresponsive in the shower. But the details didn’t add up. Hershel couldn’t shower on his own. Investigators soon learned the truth.
The couple had kept Hershel’s body in a closet for days, up to a week, until it started to decompose. Then Michael packed the remains in a suitcase and dumped them in an open field. Weeks later, he returned, placed the remains in a bag, and left them near McCrury Street in Dayton. Michael eventually led officers to the remains.
Hershel’s mobility scooter was found nearby. He was arrested and booked into the Montgomery County Jail. Ashley was taken into custody the same day. On July 14th, Police Chief Kamran Afzal held a press conference.
“My heart goes out to Hershel’s family,” he said. “The callousness shown in this situation, where this child’s life is concerned, is horrendous and truly evil. ”
Michael faced three counts of tampering with evidence and one count of gross abuse of a corpse. Ashley was charged with obstruction of justice and failure to report a death.
Bonds were set at $2 million and $250,000, respectively. As the community mourned, the question became: how did no one save this child? Michael’s criminal history was extensive. In 2009, he was charged with arson and assault against his own mother.
In 2013, he was accused of attacking an eight-year-old girl while intoxicated. In 2016, he assaulted his mother again and served six months in jail. There were convictions for felony theft, burglary, having weapons under disability, aggravated trespassing, public intoxication, and driving drunk. Almost every incident happened while he was heavily intoxicated.
Hershel and his older sister had lived with their paternal grandmother, Missy Creechbomb, in Springfield, Ohio, for years. She’d been their legal guardian since March 2021. Court reports from 2022 and 2023 noted that neither parent came around or even called. But in September 2024, both parents had resumed contact, and Missy was allowed supervised visitation.
Missy said she returned the kids to Ashley’s custody because she couldn’t afford to renew her lease. She moved in with them for a while, but in November 2024, she was seriously injured in a head-on collision. She ended up in a nursing home, then moved to Columbus. She wanted to be near her grandchildren, she said, but her health made it difficult, and Ashley refused to let her move back in.
In May 2025, the Clark County Probate Court officially ended Missy’s guardianship and returned the children to Ashley, because Missy hadn’t filed the required reports. She claimed she never received the paperwork. Missy trusted Ashley. She believed her daughter-in-law had changed.
She had no reason to suspect that Michael didn’t want the best for the kids. But the staff at Ruskin Elementary School saw something was wrong. In April 2025, they called Child Protective Services multiple times. On April 3rd, they reported that Michael dropped the kids off at school while severely intoxicated, and that Hershel was covered in urine.
Staff said the eleven-year-old sister told them the children were often without food. Police performed wellness checks. They said the kids had food and the house had power. Everything seemed okay.
Nothing came of the reports. On July 19th, a memorial service was held for Hershel. It began at Ruskin Elementary and ended at the McCrury Street Bridge, where his remains had been found. The community turned the bridge into a shrine of stuffed animals, balloons, flowers, and handwritten notes.
One note from a cousin read: “I miss you, Hershey. You didn’t deserve that. ”
People who knew the boy struggled to understand. One family member described how Hershel would always smile, how he never cried.
“You can feel so sad and he will put a beautiful smile on your face. ”
The family demanded answers. Why did CPS not intervene after multiple reports? Why did the school’s warnings go unheeded?
Why did two wellness checks conclude that everything was fine? A lawyer representing Hershel’s estate called the death “tragic and preventable. ” He said children’s services failed the boy and announced plans to hold the agency accountable. “This child went through hell,” the lawyer said.
“He was abused, he was neglected. And because he was autistic and nonverbal and in a wheelchair, more care and more attention should have been given to him. ”
As of August 2025, Hershel still didn’t have a final resting place. The Facebook group run by his loved ones was raising money for his burial at Rose Hill Burial Park.
There was confusion over funeral home arrangements, and even the cost of his headstone was disputed, with one company offering to provide one free of charge, while the father posted different figures. Ruskin Elementary planned a permanent memorial: a memorial rock embedded in concrete on school grounds, and a custom bench near the school entrance, funded by local donations. Students would pass by it every day.
A quiet, powerful reminder of a classmate they lost far too soon.


