Crime Solvers Central
Crime Solvers Central
295 Cases Solved. Advancing justice for missing persons, unsolved homicides, unidentified and unclaimed remains.

Forum Posts for Angela Truitt:
Be respectful. Abuse of these forums will not be tolerated.

Does anyone else find it particularly chilling that this happened right in their own family home? It's so hard to imagine that a place meant for love and safety was the scene of such a tragic loss. I keep thinking about little Butch, her Pekingese, and how animals can sometimes sense these things happening. It's sorrowful to think about how much she loved that dog and how everything changed in an instant. I hope her love for Butch and the joy she found in small things like swimming and music are remembered by those who knew her. My thoughts are with Angie and her family.
I knew her, she was my best friend. We were closer than most blood sisters, we were both halves of the whole. Butch was in the house when her dad shot himself. He lived several more years but the sound of gunshots terrified him. They still terrify me, a shotgun blast I mean. There are some details I know about but I won't mention because they were told in confidence. Angie and her mom had already moved out of the house and in with her grandparents. But she had become scared of her dad. She spent Friday night with me, we stayed up talking all night. She told me her dad was going to kill her. I assured her he loved her and wouldn't harm her. She was right, he killed her on Sunday morning. He destroyed a lot of lives that morning, mine was one of them. People tell you time heals all wounds, that's a lie. Time heals nothing. It was discovered at autopsy that her dad was an undiagnosed paranoid schizophrenic. That's not an excuse. I believe I know why he did what he did, but I can't prove it and there's no point in speculating.
It's so deeply upsetting to think about young Angela's life being cut short in such a brutal way. I came across something that really hit home - Angie had a Pekingese dog named Butch that she adored. Can you imagine how much comfort and joy that little dog must have brought her? It’s heartbreaking to think of Butch waiting for Angie to come home, not knowing what happened. I hope someone in the family was able to take care of Butch after everything. It's a reminder of how domestic violence not only affects the immediate victims but also ripples out into the lives of everyone close to them, including the pets who depended on them. Sending love and strength to those who knew and loved Angie.
I am one of those people who loved Angie. She was my best friend, we were closer than most blood relatives. Your comment about Butch waiting for her to come home is rather disturbing, but the truth is even more so. Butch was at the house when it happened. He was in the bedroom with her so called father when he shot himself. When deputies Ed and Angeline Scruggs made entry into the bedroom she was scared that Butch was having a heart attack. Eventually Butch was ok again, he lived several more years after Angie's death with her grandparents. His only lasting problem was that when he would hear a gunshot he would begin trembling and looking for a place to hide. I went to see him often and I have a few pictures of you would like to see him

I'm so sorry for your loss. The pain you carry is immense, and it’s clear how deeply you loved Angie—like a sister, a soulmate. What happened to her, and to you, is heartbreaking beyond words. You were there for her, listened to her, comforted her. That matters. Please don’t blame yourself. You gave her love when she needed it most.

You're right—time doesn’t heal all wounds. Some pain stays with us, woven into who we are. And the trauma you experienced, the fear that still lives in you, is valid. It’s a response to something no one should ever have to endure.

Your story is a powerful act of remembrance. Speaking it honors Angie’s life and the bond you shared. Don’t stop saying her name. Her memory lives on through you. And please know, you’re not alone. Even in the darkest grief, you are seen, and you are held in deep compassion.