A warning to our viewers. What you are about to watch is a true story. The following program contains content that some viewers may find disturbing. Viewer discretion is strongly advised. Tonight, Alton police describe a horrific murder scene that involved the decapitation of a pregnant woman due to give birth next month.
It is a savage killing that ended with charges today against the man police call a monster. The Alton police chief was visibly angry as he described what happened to 22-year-old Lisa Dodd, a pregnant woman found violently murdered in Alton last week. The chief says Holloway and Dodd had an on andoff relationship. He now faces charges for Dodd’s death and dismemberment as well as the death of her baby that was due next month.
June 9th, 2022. 12:59 p.m. Alton, Illinois. A mother walks up the stairs to her daughter’s apartment on Bolivar Street. She’s worried. She hasn’t been able to reach Lisa all morning, and that’s not like her. The door is unlocked. She steps inside, and in the next few seconds, Heidi Null’s life will shatter in a way no parent should ever experience.
What she discovers in that apartment is so horrific, so savage that even hardened police officers will struggle to put it into words. 22-year-old Lisa Dodd is dead, brutally murdered, decapitated. And she wasn’t alone. Insider, just weeks away from being born, was her baby daughter.
A little girl Liisa lovingly called Baby Bean. A child who would never take her first breath, never know her mother’s embrace, never have the baby shower that was planned for the end of June. This is smalltown Illinois in 2022. A place where young women should be safe, where expectant mothers should be planning nurseries, not fleeing for their lives.
But for Lisa Dodd, her apartment became a house of horrors. And the person who killed her was someone she’d trusted, someone she’d loved, someone she’d given two years of her life to in an on-again, off-again relationship that would end in unimaginable violence. What you’re about to hear is the true account of a brutal crime that resulted in the deaths of a young mother and her unborn child.
This case involves extreme violence, domestic abuse, and disturbing details that some viewers may find deeply disturbing. Viewer discretion is strongly advised. This is a real story. These were real people, and what happened to them should never have happened to anyone. Welcome to the Shadow Files crime series.
Tonight, we venture into a nightmare so evil it defies comprehension. Take a moment to hit subscribe, drop a like, and please let us know where you’re watching from. And now we begin. But before we can understand the tragedy of what was taken, we need to understand who Lisa Dodd really was. Because she wasn’t just a victim.
She wasn’t just a headline. She was a person, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a mother to be whose life mattered long before it was stolen. August 14th, 1999. Leand entered the world in Alton, Illinois. Welcomed by her mother, Heidi Null. From the very beginning, there was something special about this little girl.
The kind of child who didn’t just exist in a room. She transformed it. Her smile wasn’t the polite, practiced kind you give for cameras. It was genuine, infectious, the kind that made everyone around her feel a little lighter, a little warmer. Heidi raised Leis in nearby Jerseyville, creating a home filled with love and stability. Liisa grew up surrounded by family.
Her sister Shelby, her aunts, uncles, cousins who adored her. This wasn’t a family that just showed up for holidays. These were people who truly knew each other, who gathered often, who built memories together. And at the center of so many of those memories was Lisa, laughing, smiling, making sure everyone felt included.
But what truly set Lisa apart was her heart. And you could see it from the earliest age in the way she treated animals. Most kids love pets, sure, but Lisa’s compassion went deeper than that. When she turned 10 years old, she did something remarkable. Instead of asking for birthday presents, instead of wanting the latest toys or games, Lisa organized a fundraiser for the Riverbend Humane Society.
Think about that for a moment. a 10-year-old child choosing to help animals instead of celebrating herself. That wasn’t a one-time gesture. That was who Liisa was at her core, someone who saw need in the world and felt compelled to do something about it. As she grew older, that compassion extended to the people around her.
Her cousins absolutely adored her. She loved spoiling them, spending time with them whenever she could. Friends would later say that Liisa had this maternal quality about her even before she became pregnant. She was the one who checked in on people, who remembered the little details of your life, who made you feel seen. And then there was her camera.
Liisa documented everything. Every family gathering, every moment with friends, every sunset on one of her beloved drives. She was always capturing life, preserving memories. At the time, it might have seemed like just a quirky habit. Now, those photos are treasures, frozen moments of a life that was vibrant and real and full of joy, a life that should have continued for decades.
After graduating from Jersey Community High School in 2017, Lisa threw herself into work. She wasn’t the kind of person who did anything halfway. at Dairy Queen and later at Nick’s Pancake House in Jerseyville. She became known as more than just an employee. She was the welcoming face, the warm smile, the person who remembered your order and asked about your day.
Customers didn’t just come back for the food. They came back to see Lisa. She found peace in the simple things. Long drives down country roads, windows down, music playing, just her and the open road. That sense of freedom, that serenity, it recharged her. She was building a life brick by brick, making her own money, creating her independence, dreaming about the future.
At 22, she had her whole life ahead of her. And then everything changed. Sometime in late 2021 or early 2022, Liisa discovered she was pregnant. And for Liisa, this wasn’t a crisis. It was a blessing. She was going to be a mother. All that love she’d shown her cousins, all that maternal instinct that had always been there now had a focus, a purpose.
She was carrying a baby girl, and she gave her the sweetest nickname, Baby Bean. The due date was set for late July 2022. Liisa threw herself into preparation. She was planning the nursery, buying tiny clothes, dreaming about who her daughter would become. Would she have Lisa’s smile, her love of animals, her kind heart? The excitement was palpable.
Her family rallied around her with support and love. They were planning a baby shower for the end of June. A celebration of new life, new beginnings, new hope. Everyone who knew Liisa was certain of one thing. She was going to be an incredible mother. The way she loved, the way she cared, the way she put others before herself.
Those qualities don’t just make a good person, they make an exceptional parent. Baby Bean was already so loved, so wanted, so cherished. Lisa talked about her constantly, planned for her constantly, dreamed about her constantly. This was supposed to be the beginning of Liisa’s greatest adventure. 22 years old, about to become a mother.
Her whole future stretching out before her like that open road she loved so much. But there was something else in Lisa’s life. Something that had been there for about 2 years. Something that on the surface might have looked like love, but underneath was something far more dangerous. Around 2020, Lisa began dating a man named DeAndre Holloway.
And for anyone who’s ever witnessed domestic violence, either firsthand or from the outside, what followed will sound devastatingly familiar. It was an on again, offagain relationship. Two years of breaking up and getting back together. Two years of promises that things would be different this time, that he would change, that it would get better.
two years of red flags that, like so many victims of abuse, Liisa either didn’t see or chose to believe could be overcome with love and patience. Holloway struggled with mental health issues, instability that would become a significant factor as this case moved through the legal system. But here’s something crucial we need to understand.
Mental illness doesn’t excuse violence. It doesn’t justify what would happen. Millions of people struggle with mental health conditions and never hurt anyone. Mental illness can explain behavior, but it can never ever excuse taking another person’s life. Lisa’s mother, Heidi, would later describe it as a 2-year on and off again domestic violence relationship.
Those words on and off, they sound simple, but they represent a cycle that traps countless victims. the breakup, the relief, the hope that it’s finally over. And then the return, the apologies, the tears, the promises. I’ll change. I’ll get help. I can’t live without you. I love you. And the victim, wanting desperately to believe, takes them back.
And for a while, maybe things are better. But then the pattern repeats. Liisa tried to end it multiple times. She created distance. She tried to move forward with her life and Holloway would promise to stay away. He told Heidi, Leis’s mother, that he wouldn’t come back. He gave his word. But promises from abusers are built on sand.
They crumble the moment it’s convenient. In court years later, Heidi would address Holloway directly. I am disappointed that you didn’t keep your word when you told me you wouldn’t come back the next time you left. That disappointment, such a measured word for such a devastating betrayal because Holloway did come back again and again.
And Liisa, like so many victims of domestic violence, took him back. Heidi tried to protect her daughter. The conversations between mother and daughter. Heidi expressing her concerns. Liisa offering reassurances. He’s getting better. He’s trying. I can handle it. The words every parent dreads hearing because they know deep in their gut that something terrible is coming.
There was one conversation that would haunt Heidi forever. Holloway had been at the apartment all day and he complained to her, “I’ve been here all day. It’s like being in jail and I hate being in jail.” Just words at the time complaining about boredom, about feeling confined. But later, those words would take on a chilling, devastating significance.
And here’s the detail that makes this case even more complex. DeAndre Holloway was not Baby Bean’s father. Lisa had moved on. She was building a new life, preparing for motherhood with someone else’s child. She had found a new path forward. But Holloway, he kept pulling her back into the cycle.
And if you’ve never experienced domestic violence, it’s easy to ask, “Why didn’t she just leave? Why didn’t she cut him off completely? Why didn’t she get a restraining order?” But leaving an abusive relationship is never that simple. It’s never just a matter of walking away. There’s fear, justified fear, that leaving will make things worse, that it will trigger violence. There’s manipulation.
the abuser convincing the victim that they’re the problem, that no one else will love them, that they deserve the treatment they’re getting. There are emotional ties, years of history, memories of good times, the person you fell in love with who occasionally still appears between the abuse and there’s hope.
Stubborn, desperate hope that if you just love them enough, if you just try hard enough, they’ll finally change. By June 2022, Liisa was 8 months pregnant. Her body was preparing to bring life into the world. She should have been focused on baby names and nursery colors and whether she had enough diapers. She should have been nesting, resting, counting down the days until she could hold her daughter.
Instead, she was still trapped in a pattern with DeAndre Holloway, a pattern that was about to turn fatal. Recently, Lisa had moved to an apartment on Bolivar Street in Alton. Perhaps it was another attempt at independence, at creating physical distance from Holloway. A fresh start, a safe space for herself and Baby Bean. The baby shower was scheduled for late June. Invitations had been sent.
Plans were in motion. Her family was excited, supportive, ready to celebrate this new chapter. But beneath the surface of baby shower planning and nursery preparation, something dark was building. Holloway was still in the picture, still part of Lisa’s life in some capacity. The exact nature of their relationship in those final days isn’t entirely clear. But what is clear is this.
The situation was far more dangerous than anyone fully understood. And time was running out. June 9th, 2022. The morning starts like any other for Heidi Null, but by afternoon her world will be irreversibly shattered. She tries calling Liisa. No answer. She calls again straight to voicemail. Text messages sent, delivered, but not read.
For most people, a few missed calls might not trigger immediate panic. But Heidi knows her daughter Liisa always answers, always stays in contact, always checks in. This silence, it’s wrong, deeply, instinctively wrong. Heidi makes the decision to drive to Lisa’s apartment on Believar Street in Alton. Maybe she’s overthinking.
Maybe Lisa is just sleeping, her phone on silent. Maybe everything is fine, but that gnawing feeling in her gut won’t let go. 12:59 p.m. Heidi arrives at the apartment. The door is unlocked. She steps inside and what happens next will haunt her for the rest of her life. Liisa’s body is there, but the scene is so horrific, so savage that even describing it feels like an assault on human decency.
Her daughter has been murdered, decapitated. The violence inflicted is beyond comprehension. personal, ragefueled, extreme. Baby Bean, just weeks away from taking her first breath, is gone, killed in the womb alongside her mother. Heidi calls 911. Her voice, her words in that moment, we can only imagine. What’s going on there? My daughter’s husband killed her.
She chopped her head off. What is your daughter’s name? Leisa. I remember to check on him and he got a head off. Are you outside the apartment right now? Yes. [clears throat] What What kind of a weapon does he have? He’s not here. He took her car. What kind of a vehicle did he drive off in? It’s a 2012 black.
Is it aim? Okay. I got officers on the way. Okay. Is your daughter pregnant? She was pregnant. Okay. They’re on their way. Okay. The operators dispatch Alton police immediately. Officers arrive at the scene on Bolivar Street. Where we going on? Is anybody else here? And what they find leaves even veteran law enforcement struggling to maintain their composure.
Liisa has been decapitated. Her head is not in the apartment. Officers begin searching the surrounding area, dreading what they might find. And then the grim discovery. Leisa’s head has been placed in a dumpster outside the apartment building. The deliberate dismemberment, the disposal like trash. These are the actions of someone trying to dehumanize their victim.
To reduce a person, a vibrant, loving 22-year-old woman about to become a mother to something less than human. Alton Police Chief Marcus Pledo, a veteran officer who’s seen his share of tragedy, can barely contain his emotion when he addresses the media. His voice shakes with rage and grief. She was savagely, savagely killed.
She was decapitated. Decapitated by a freaking savage monster. Her unborn child was also killed as a result of this. So, she was brutally murdered as well as her unborn child. He continues, his words carrying the weight of a community’s horror. This daughter, this mother to be, and her family were in the planning stages of a baby shower that was supposed to be at the end of June.
But instead, now the family is planning a funeral because of what a monster did. The investigation begins immediately. And for detectives, there’s one name that rises to the top of their suspect list almost instantly. DeAndre Holloway, the on andoff boyfriend, the domestic violence history, the man who had promised to stay away but never did.
But when police try to locate him, he’s gone, vanished, fled the scene. An APB goes out across the region. Every law enforcement agency in the area is on alert. While Lisa’s family tries to process the impossible, that their daughter, their sister, their soon-to-be niece are gone, police are racing against time to find the person responsible.
And then, in one of those strange twists that sometimes breaks cases wide open, they get their break. Later that same day, just hours after the murder, officers from the Gillespie Police Department, a neighboring town about 30 miles away, are investigating a report of a stolen bicycle. An officer spots someone riding a bicycle on Western Street. It’s DeAndre Holloway.
He’s arrested for theft, just a routine petty crime arrest. Holloway has no idea that in those very moments, Alton police have identified him as their primary suspect in a brutal double homicide. You search? Uh, yeah. Still don’t have a name. That’s okay. What do I have? What’s that? What do I have? You have cannabis on you. Okay.
[clears throat] Exactly. Right. You need some water or anything? Yeah. Yeah. I would like some water cuz you know you guys got to uh Hey, need some water? Yeah. Okay. Please get you some water. Okay. So, what’s your name? What they’re going to do? I literally asked if I was being detained. That man said no.
And then he proceeded to ask me the same question over and over and over. And I said the same thing. And again, he’s just not having it cuz he’s got an attitude problem with me. I got an attitude problem, too. I know I got one. I got one. That’s why I’m not sitting down. But you know, I could make you sit down. So, I’m not Do it.
What did I just say? Do it. [clears throat] I said I could do it. I’m not going to do it. Cuz you’re scared. Exactly. I’m hand scared for what? Do it. You know, guy, we’re we’re not going to get into this. Thank you. I appreciate it. Well, don’t you just be mean to me now? I’m not being mean to you.
So, why am I here? Cuz you’re under arrest for theft. I was exercising on a stolen bike. How? I don’t know you guys. I don’t know any of you. Okay, great. Again, y’all got me like I’m getting kidnapped or some [ __ ] No, you’re under arrest. So, again, for one, this don’t look like a [ __ ] police department to me.
Okay, so again, what the You’re in the Glistry Police Department. Whether you think Never seen it, never seen the inside in the Glister Police Department. If I do these sworn officers, you can either recognize it or not, doesn’t matter. You’re still under arrest. So, and I’m just exercising.
I just don’t give a lie. I’m under. All right, then the officer talk to you. If you don’t want to talk to the officer, that’s your right, sir. But you are under arrest. [clears throat] Uh-uh. Don’t do that. Don’t do that. That’s what I’m saying. Don’t do that. Don’t do that. At the Gillespie Police Station, Holloway’s behavior becomes erratic.
He grows aggressive with officers so aggressive he has to be physically restrained. Gillespie police chief Jared Depop later describes the confrontation, noting how Holloway’s demeanor immediately raised red flags. During processing, Alton police contact their colleagues in Gillespie. We have a murder suspect.
We think you might have him in custody. They compare notes, confirm the identity. It’s him. A stolen bicycle. A random, almost absurd petty crime has gotten a killer off the streets. 4 days later, on June 13th, 2022, DeAndre Holloway is formally charged. The list of charges is staggering. Two counts of firstdegree murder.
Two counts of intentional homicide of an unborn child. Dismembering a human body. Offenses relating to motor vehicles. Concealment of a homicidal death. His bond is set at $2 million. Madison County States attorney Tom Hayne addresses the media. His words measured but carrying unmistakable gravity. We offer our sympathy to the family of Lisa Dodd for the profound loss they are suffering.
We believe the evidence will show that the defendant’s gruesome actions here killed both a young woman and the child she carried in her womb. In the eyes of the law, both these killings are equal, and he will now face justice for both. But justice, as Leis’s family would soon learn, is a long and complicated road, and the path ahead would be filled with delays, legal complications, and agonizing uncertainty.
June 24th, 2022. Crawford Funeral Home in Jerseyville. Hundreds gather for Leisa’s memorial visitation. Friends, family, co-workers, people whose lives she’d touched. They come to mourn, to remember, to try. making sense of the senseless. 2 days later, June 26th, this was supposed to be Lisa’s baby shower. Instead, the family holds a celebration of life at Broio Tavern.
The cruel irony isn’t lost on anyone. They should be celebrating Baby Bean’s upcoming arrival. Instead, they’re mourning two lives stolen. A GoFundMe raises nearly $16,000. The family uses it for funeral expenses, but then they do something perfectly in character with who Lisa was. $5,000 to the Oasis Women’s Center in Alton, helping other domestic violence victims.
$2,000 to Riverbend Humane Society, the same organization Lisa fundraised for at age 10. Even in death, her compassion continues helping others. But while the community grieavves, the legal system crawls forward with agonizing slowness. February 2023, 8 months after the murder, Holloway is found unfit to stand trial.
His mental health issues become a legal obstacle. He’s transferred to an Illinois Department of Human Services facility for treatment. The family waits desperate for justice, desperate for answers. Months pass. By late 2023, Holloway is deemed fit to stand trial and return to Madison County. Finally, progress. But then the Illinois Supreme Court drops a bombshell.
An unborn child cannot be construed as a second murder victim for purposes of seeking life in prison. States Attorney Tom Hayne explains the devastating impact. The Supreme Court ruled that innocent life in the womb was not a victim for the purposes of sentencing. And so that really removed our ability to secure that natural life sentence.
Two lives taken. But for sentencing purposes, only one counts as murder. Baby bean wanted, cherished, weeks from birth. Legally doesn’t count the same way. Each delay, each complication adds layers to the family’s anguish. Then December 16th, 2024, nearly 2 and a half years after the murder, DeAndre Holloway pleads guilty.
Firstde murder, intentional homicide of an unborn child, concealment of a homicidal death. The plea means the family is spared a trial. No testimony describing the crime scene. No reliving every horrific detail in open court. After over 900 days of waiting, there’s finally an end in sight. Sentencing is scheduled for January 17th, 2025.
After all this time, the family will finally have their moment to speak, to look Holloway in the eye, to tell him what he’s taken, and to watch as a judge decides how many years he’ll spend behind bars for destroying two lives. January 17th, 2025. After more than 900 days of waiting, the moment has finally arrived.
Madison County Associate Circuit Judge Neil Schroeder presides over the sentencing hearing. The courtroom is packed with Liisa’s family and friends, all there to witness justice, however incomplete it might feel. A photograph of Liisa is projected on a screen near where DeAndre Holloway sits. He’s forced to look at her at the woman he murdered.
at the vibrant smiling face of the life he destroyed. And then Heidi Null stands to give her victim impact statement. The moment every parent dreads, standing in a courtroom, speaking about your murdered child while facing their killer, her voice is steady, but the words carry the weight of unbearable loss. On that night, I received a life sentence to live the remainder of my life without my beautiful, loving, sassy daughter.
A life without knowing the joy of watching Lisa raise my granddaughter. She addresses Holloway directly. And what’s remarkable is that she doesn’t speak with hatred or rage. She speaks with something more powerful, devastating, unvarnished truth. I do not hate you, she tells him. I am sad and disappointed in you.
She continues, I am disappointed that you didn’t keep your word when you told me you wouldn’t come back the next time you left. Sad that you thought your mental instability was a free pass from being held accountable for your crimes. Sad that you destroyed so many hopes and dreams, including your own. Then she reminds him of that conversation, the one that now carries such chilling significance.
You had been in the apartment all day. You said to me, “I’ve been here all day. It’s like being in jail, and I hate being in jail.” Her next words are sharp, cutting, “Well, you now have the next 60 years to hate being in prison.” But then something unexpected, something that shows the depth of Heidi’s character, even in the face of unimaginable pain.
I will pray you find redemption for your soul. Judge Schroeder then delivers the sentence 60 years in prison, 30 years for the murder of Liisa Dodd, 30 years for the murder of Baby Bean. All sentences running consecutively. The math is stark. Holloway must serve 100% of the murder charge, at least 85% of the homicide of an unborn child charge, 50% of the concealment charge.
In total, at least 52 years before any possibility of release. States Attorney Tom Hayne makes it clear. It is unlikely Holloway will ever see the light of day. At 25 years old, Holloway will be at minimum 77 before he’s eligible for release. Statistically, he will likely spend the rest of his natural life behind bars.
Throughout the hearing, Holloway says nothing. No apology, no explanation, no expression of remorse, just silence. He’s led out of the courtroom in handcuffs to begin his sentence 60 years to think about what he did. 60 years to hate being in prison, just like he once complained about hating a single day in Lisa’s apartment.
We’re here to announce that DeAndre Holloway uh was convicted and sentenced in uh the murder of Lisa Dodd and her unborn child today to 60 years in prison. And I want to introduce Heidi, Lisa’s mother and grandmother of the unborn daughter, uh to give a few words um reflecting on today’s verdict and sentence. I would like to thank the many law enforcement agencies that collaborated on my daughter’s case.
A special thank you to offer officer Wilmersburg of the Alton Police Department for his excellent work on this case. I am forever grateful for your time and wisdom. After the sentencing, Heidi Null spoke to the press. Her daughter’s case was over, but her mission was just beginning to prevent other families from experiencing this nightmare.
This is a tragic outcome of a 2-year on and off again domestic violence relationship. She said this didn’t have to end this way. My daughter should be here raising her daughter. Her words carried messages born from unbearable loss to those suffering from mental illness. Seek treatment and be consistent with your treatment.
Understand that your condition or illness will not keep you from being held accountable for the crimes you commit. And to victims of domestic violence, the words every survivor needs to hear. Find the resolve to end that relationship. If someone threatens to end your life, believe them. These weren’t just words.
They echoed with the weight of a mother who learned these truths too late, but spoke them with hope that others might be saved. Lisa Dodd was 22 years old. She should have had a lifetime ahead of her. Baby Bean never got to be born. Never got to be held. Never got to know her mother’s love. But their story matters. Not just as tragedy, but as testament to a life that had meaning.
Remember the 10-year-old who gave up birthday presents to help animals. The warm smile at the pancake house. The camera always capturing moments. The love she had for her family, for baby bean, for life itself. That’s who Lisa Dodd was. Not just a victim, but a person. A daughter, a sister, a friend, a mother to be. someone who deserved so much more.
Domestic violence doesn’t always announce itself with dramatic signs. Sometimes it’s a cycle that seems impossible to break. Liisa tried to create distance, tried to build a new life, but she was pulled back again and again, and ultimately it cost her everything. If you or someone you know is in a domestic violence situation, please reach out.
The National Domestic Violence Hotline is available 24/7 at 1-8007997233. You are not alone. Help is available. Your life matters. In loving memory of Lisa and Dodd, August 14th, 1999 to June 9th, 2022 in Baby Bean. Gone too soon, never forgotten. This didn’t have to end this way. My daughter should be here raising her toddler instead of being a casualty of domestic violence.
If you have a mental instability or mental illness, seek treatment and be consistent with your treatment. Understand that your condition or illness will not keep you from being held accountable for the crimes you commit. If you are in a domestic violence relationship, if someone is emotionally, mentally, or physically abusing you, make a safe plan to leave that relationship.
If they continually disrespect your boundaries, make demeaning comments, and control your every movement, this is abuse. Find the resolve to leave that relationship. If someone threatens to end your life, believe them. If they can say it, think it, and talk about it, they can carry out the threat.
Reach out to your local, regional, or national resources that are available to assist you in making a safe plan to leave. Your life depends on it. It isn’t easy and it may be one of the hardest things you do, but your life is important and you are worthy and deserve a life free from abuse. Want to say um that you don’t often see the kind of strength that the family of Lisa has exhibited in this case.
um incredible strength, incredible uh grace in the courtroom today uh with her statements to the defendant, defendant who took the life of her daughter and granddaughter um and who over years, as she said, had abused them and is now going to face decades of prison her for uh the crime of murder um for two lives, not just one.
Uh the mother and the unborn child. And I just want to commend the family to say that uh it is uh it’s very inspirational to see the kind of strength that you’ve shown and I’m sure that uh everyone in the courtroom experienced the same thing. There were aspects of this case related to the unborn child who died that were extremely moving.
One in which you know Lisa’s last act her hand was resting on a book about pregnancy. So her last thought was probably about her unborn child. And so there’s a beauty there in those last moments. And uh I think that uh she’s with us now.
