‘I killed Daddy’: An 11-year-old boy faces criminal homicide charges after shooting and killing his father

WGAL News 8 reporter AJ Sisson says a Perry County community is trying to process an unthinkable scene: an 11-year-old boy is charged with criminal homicide after police say he shot and killed his father in the early hours of Tuesday, January 13, in Duncannon Borough.

Sisson reports that Pennsylvania State Police and local responders were called to a home on South Market Street around 3:20 a.m. for an “unresponsive male.” Inside, troopers found Douglas Dietz, 42, dead in bed from a gunshot wound to the head, according to court documents Sisson reviewed for the report.

It’s the kind of story that lands like a weight. Not just because it involves a child, but because Sisson lays out how ordinary the night sounded at first – until it wasn’t.

Sisson reports this happened just after the boy’s birthday began, a detail that makes the timeline feel even more surreal. One minute, a family is marking a milestone. A short time later, police are on the scene of a homicide investigation.

“Daddy’s Dead”: What Police Say Happened Inside The Home

Sisson says the court documents describe a sequence that started after midnight. He reports that Douglas Dietz and his wife had sung “happy birthday” to their son, Clayton Dietz, and then went to bed.

According to Sisson’s reporting, Clayton’s mother told police she went to sleep, and Douglas went to bed not long after. Later, she woke up to what she described as a loud bang.

Sisson reports she told investigators she tried to wake her husband, but he didn’t respond. She also described realizing there was blood—an awful moment of confusion turning into instant terror.

Sisson says the documents describe the family’s bedroom setup in a way that matters to investigators: Douglas was found in the bedroom he shared with his wife, and the room was connected to Clayton’s bedroom by a closet.

Sisson reports that Clayton was near the closet area and said words that are now central to the case. In the broadcast, Sisson says Clayton was saying, “He’s dead.” In the details Sisson relays from the investigation, troopers also reported hearing the boy say, “I killed Daddy.”

There is no clean way to read that sentence. It’s a child’s voice attached to a permanent act, and Sisson’s report makes clear that police treated it with the seriousness it demands.

The Safe, The Key, And A Child’s Anger

Sisson reports that investigators describe a gun being kept in a safe. Clayton’s mother, according to Sisson, told police there was a gun safe in the bedroom, but she denied knowing where the key was kept.

Sisson says Clayton told investigators he was looking for his Nintendo Switch when he came across keys to the safe. Sisson reports that Clayton told police he found the key in his father’s drawer.

The report does not paint this as a random accident. Sisson states that the documents say Clayton acted “with the intention to shoot his father,” and that Clayton admitted he had “someone in mind” that he planned to shoot, identifying that person as Douglas.

Sisson also notes what troopers observed when they spoke with the child. In the on-air report, he says troopers noticed a large bruise above Clayton’s left eye and a cut on his bottom lip. Sisson does not claim those injuries explain the shooting, but their presence raises questions that investigators will likely have to address.

Sisson reports Clayton told police he’d had a good day with his parents the day before. But the documents, as Sisson explains, say the mood shifted when Douglas told him to go to bed.

And that’s where the story becomes brutally modern in a way that is hard to ignore: the trigger, as described in the documents Sisson cites, is not a long-running criminal lifestyle, but a child’s impulse and anger colliding with access.

It’s important to say this carefully. Kids get mad. Kids slam doors. Kids say things they don’t mean. What makes this case horrifying is that, according to Sisson’s reporting, the anger didn’t burn out – it found a pathway to irreversible harm.

That’s not a lecture. It’s the cold reality of what Sisson is describing: a home environment where a child, on one night, could get to something that can’t be taken back.

Charges, Custody, And What Comes Next

Sisson reports that Clayton Dietz is now charged with criminal homicide. He says Clayton is being held at the Perry County Prison, and that the court process is moving forward.

In the on-air report, Sisson says the boy is being held in the county facility while the case continues, and that WGAL is following developments.

Sisson also reports that Clayton was denied bail, and that a hearing is scheduled for Thursday, January 22. That date matters because it signals how quickly this case is entering the formal court system, even as the community is still trying to understand what happened.

This is where the emotional complexity becomes almost impossible to separate from the legal one. The system is built to determine facts, intent, and accountability. But this is an 11-year-old.

A charge like criminal homicide carries enormous weight even for an adult. When it lands on a child, it forces every part of society – courts, schools, neighbors, and families – to confront questions that do not have easy answers.

Sisson’s report doesn’t pretend otherwise. It’s straight reporting, grounded in what police and court documents say, but the subtext is unavoidable: the legal machine is now turning, and the person at the center is a kid who barely entered middle school.

Shocked Neighbors And A School District Responds

Sisson reports the reaction in Duncannon isn’t anger on the street – it’s shock.

In his reporting, Sisson speaks with Jesse Weldon, a lifelong Duncannon resident who lives nearby. Weldon tells Sisson the family seemed kind and kept to themselves, and he says he didn’t expect something like this to happen in their community.

Weldon’s comments carry the tone that shows up in a lot of small towns after tragedy: not gossip, not certainty – just disbelief that something so extreme could unfold so close.

Sisson asks Weldon if he’s ever seen something like this in the area, and Weldon answers, essentially, not like this and not this close. It’s the difference between hearing about violence somewhere else and realizing it happened next door.

Weldon also reflects to Sisson about how much has changed over the decades, mentioning how the community used to feel more tight-knit, and suggesting that people don’t know each other the way they once did. It’s not presented as an explanation for what happened, but as a human attempt to place the event inside a larger story about modern life.

Sisson also reports that the Susquenita School District issued a statement acknowledging the impact an event like this can have on students. 

The district said it recognized that in a close-knit community, incidents like this can affect kids, and it noted that school counselors and psychologists are available to provide support.

That part matters, because in cases like this the harm doesn’t stop at the bedroom door. It spills into classrooms, friendships, and families who now have to explain the unexplainable to children who are the same age as the child being charged.

And if there’s one point worth saying out loud, it’s this: the people who will carry this the longest may not be the ones who end up on a court docket. They’ll be the kids who hear whispers in the hallway, the teachers trying to keep routines steady, and the neighbors who can’t stop replaying the sirens.

Sisson’s report puts names and times to the allegations. But underneath it is a reminder that tragedies involving children create a special kind of community shock – because nobody wants to accept that a child can be both young and accused of something so final.

In the days ahead, the court process will focus on what police say happened and what can be proven. Meanwhile, the human side will keep moving too, with grief, confusion, and hard conversations that don’t fit neatly into a case file.