In a painful report from Cleveland, 19 News reporter Harry Boomer stood near two shallow graves and described a scene that had already begun turning into a public memorial. He said that when he first arrived, there were only a few stuffed animals, but within hours more had appeared at both burial spots, a small but powerful sign of how deeply this case has shaken people.
Boomer’s report then turned to the man at the center of this part of the story: DeShaun Chatman, who says one of the little girls found buried in a suitcase was his daughter. According to Boomer, Chatman arrived at the gravesite overcome by grief and anger as he tried to absorb what he believes is now the terrible truth.
The father’s pain came through immediately. In the 19 News report, Chatman said he had been searching for his daughter for five years, making calls, going through the courts, and asking authorities for help.
“I’ve been looking for my daughter for five years,” he told Boomer. “I’ve been calling CPS, going to the courts, trying to get emergency custody, calling the police for welfare checks. But they denied all access.”
That quote lands hard because it suggests something bigger than one family tragedy. If what Chatman says is true, then this is not only a murder case. It also becomes a story about a father who believes he was shut out over and over again while trying to reach his child.
The Child’s Identity Is Still Being Confirmed
Boomer reported that the body of the 8-and-a-half-year-old girl was found partially buried in a suitcase at the edge of a field behind G.A.N. Academy in South Collinwood. In the video report, he noted that authorities were not yet publicly naming either girl until the medical examiner confirmed their identities.
At the same time, Chatman said he is working directly with police to prove he is the father of one of the victims. He told 19 News that he remains in contact with detectives and is in the process of providing DNA samples.
“I’m still in contact with the detectives,” Chatman said in Boomer’s report. “We doing the DNA samples, so I get more details within the next couple days.”
The article version tied to Boomer’s reporting gave the child’s name as Mila Chatman and said her half-sister was Amor Wilson, 10. But even with that added context, the core point in the video remained the same: at this stage, investigators were still moving through the formal identification process.
That detail matters. In stories like this, public emotion moves fast, but the official process often moves more slowly. Families can feel certain long before a medical examiner signs off. That gap can be agonizing, especially for a parent standing at a gravesite, believing his child is there, while still waiting for final confirmation.
He Says He Tried For Years To Reach Her
One of the strongest parts of Boomer’s report was not just the grief, but the sense of helplessness Chatman described.
According to Chatman, the child’s mother had been moving around and avoiding him for years. He said the last time he saw his daughter was when he helped buy her clothes for kindergarten.
That detail says a lot without saying much at all. Kindergarten is supposed to be the beginning of ordinary milestones, school clothes, photos, routines, and growing up. In this case, that memory now seems to mark the beginning of a long disappearance.
Chatman told 19 News that he had not simply accepted that separation. He said he had been calling Child Protective Services, going to court, seeking emergency custody, and requesting welfare checks from police.
If his account is accurate, then his frustration is easy to understand. A man who says he spent years trying to legally reach his daughter is now standing near a shallow grave, saying the system would not let him be a father.
That is one reason this story hits so hard. It is not only about death. It is also about the haunting question of whether more could have been done sooner if someone had listened harder, checked closer, or moved faster.
Standing In The Rain, He Spoke With Rage
Boomer described Chatman walking slowly in the rain toward the burial site. It was one of those small visual details that made the whole report feel even heavier.
When Boomer asked him what he was thinking and feeling, believing that his daughter had been murdered, Chatman did not try to hide his emotions or clean up his answer. He spoke with raw anger.
“What I’m feeling is hate. I ain’t gonna lie. I feel hate,” he said. “But I feel I asked you, I asked you numerous occasions. Just gimme my daughter. If it’s too much for you, just gimme my daughter. I just want my daughter.”
That is the kind of quote that stays with you because it is so plain. There is no legal language in it, no political spin, no polished phrasing. It sounds like exactly what it is: a father talking from the wreckage of a nightmare.
People often expect grief to come out as tears alone, but grief and rage are close relatives. In a case involving dead children, that kind of anger can sound harsh, but it also sounds human. Chatman was not speaking like a man trying to shape a public image. He sounded like someone crushed by what he believes he has lost.
“I Don’t Get How You Can Hate Your Kids Enough To Kill Them”
At one point in the report, Boomer said Chatman became so overwhelmed by the sight of the burial site that a friend had to comfort him.
That moment led to another of the report’s most painful statements. Chatman said he could not understand how anyone could kill and bury their own children, then continue living nearby and acting as a parent to another child.
“I don’t get how you can hate your own kids enough to kill them, to bury them,” he said. “To do all this, and go right there to that home, right there and live there where your kids is dead. Right here and go be a mother to another child. Why you just killed your other two.”
That statement was not careful, and it was not meant to be. It was an outpouring of horror.
There is something especially devastating about that image, children buried close to where life simply went on. Cases involving hidden bodies often disturb people in a different way because they suggest not just violence, but concealment, silence, and a kind of emotional coldness that is hard to grasp.
Boomer did not overplay that scene. He did not need to. Chatman’s words did the work on their own.
He Says The System Needs To Change
By the end of the 19 News report, Chatman was no longer speaking only about his own daughter. He was speaking about fathers more broadly, and about a system he believes failed him.
Boomer said Chatman now wants changes to laws and policies that he says denied him a real chance to be part of his child’s life.
“Change these laws, make it better,” Chatman said. “Men do have a say so in their child’s life. Married, unmarried.”
That may become one of the lasting debates around this case. Murder investigations focus first on who did what and when. But once the shock settles, families often start asking what warning signs were missed and what institutions did or failed to do.
Boomer noted that he had reached out to Child and Family Protective Services and Cleveland police to find out whether they had been involved in any way with Chatman and whether DNA testing had been undertaken. At the time of the report, those answers were still pending.
He also said something simple at the end that may have been the clearest line in the whole piece. From watching Chatman’s body language and listening to his words, Boomer said he appeared to be a grieving father.
That observation matters because sometimes the plain truth is enough. Strip away the procedural questions, the DNA process, the police updates, and the legal arguments, and what remains is a man standing in the rain near a shallow grave, saying he spent five years trying to get his daughter back.
If that is true, then this story is not just about a horrific discovery in a Cleveland field. It is also about a father left with the kind of question that never stops hurting: what if someone had listened before it was too late?
Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, John developed a love for the great outdoors early on. With years of experience as a wilderness guide, he’s navigated rugged terrains and unpredictable weather patterns. John is also an avid hunter and fisherman who believes in sustainable living. His focus on practical survival skills, from building shelters to purifying water, reflects his passion for preparedness. When he’s not out in the wild, you can find him sharing his knowledge through writing, hoping to inspire others to embrace self-reliance.
