Hershall Creachbaum Dayton Ohio: What Really Happened to Hershey

Hershall Creachbaum Dayton Ohio: What Really Happened to Hershey

When a 911 call came in from Xenia Avenue in the middle of a July night, the story sounded like a parent’s worst nightmare. A man had supposedly jumped a fence and snatched a child right off the porch. That child was 7-year-old Hershall Creachbaum Dayton Ohio residents would soon learn, was never actually kidnapped.

The truth was infinitely more gut-wrenching.

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Hershey, as his family called him, wasn't just a kid who went missing. He was a non-verbal, autistic seven-year-old who also lived with cerebral palsy and the remnants of a major heart surgery. He was vulnerable in every sense of the word. Honestly, the story of his life—and his death—is a messy, heartbreaking tangle of systemic failure and domestic tragedy that has left the Miami Valley searching for answers.

The Fake Kidnapping and the Chilling Reality

On July 12, 2025, Michael Kendrick, the boyfriend of Hershey’s mother, Ashley Johnson, called dispatchers with a frantic tale. He claimed a tattooed man had punched him and run off with the boy. Dayton Police didn't take long to poke holes in that story. Within hours, they found Hershey’s remains in a wooded area near the McClure Street bridge, less than half a mile from his home.

But here’s the kicker: the boy hadn't been dead for hours. He had been dead for weeks.

Basically, investigators found out that Hershey likely died sometime in late May. For nearly two months, his body was allegedly hidden in a deep freezer before being moved to a field in a suitcase. The details coming out of the Montgomery County Municipal Court were enough to make anyone sick. Kendrick eventually admitted to punching the boy in the head during an argument on the phone while he had been drinking. Hershey died the next day.

A System That Simply Looked Away

You’ve probably heard people say the "system failed." Usually, that’s a cliché. In the case of Hershall Creachbaum Dayton Ohio officials have basically admitted it's a fact.

A massive 19-page report from the Ohio Department of Children and Youth (DCY) pulled back the curtain on how multiple agencies dropped the ball. It wasn't just one mistake; it was a series of them across two different counties.

  • Clark County Failures: Hershey and his sister had previously lived with their grandmother in Clark County. When reports of abuse came in, the agency "screened them out," failing to account for the fact that Hershey was non-verbal and couldn't tell anyone what was happening to him.
  • The School Alarms: Staff at Ruskin Elementary School were reportedly the real heroes who no one listened to. A wrongful death lawsuit filed by Hershey’s estate alleges that school officials reported signs of physical abuse—bruising, malnutrition, and the boy arriving "covered in urine"—to children's services 24 separate times.
  • The Documentation Gap: Even when Montgomery County got involved, they failed to complete necessary paperwork and waivers.

It’s frustrating. Representative Phil Plummer, a Republican from Dayton, has been vocal about this being the catalyst for a new child welfare reform bill. He’s seen the unredacted reports. He knows that if any one of those 24 calls had been handled with the urgency they deserved, Hershey might still be here.

The Human Side of Hershey

Amidst all the court filings and police reports, it’s easy to lose sight of who the kid actually was. His biological father, Hershall Creachbaum Sr., described him as the "highlight of his life." Despite having clubbed feet, heart issues, and autism, Hershey was known for his smile.

His aunt, Jessica McNire, shared a story that sticks with you. Kendrick would sometimes give Hershey a controller that wasn't plugged in so the boy could "play" video games with him. He’d sit there, happily pushing buttons, thinking he was part of the action. It’s a small, normal memory that makes the later allegations of violence feel even more jarring.

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The community hasn't let his memory fade. The McClure Street bridge became a sea of stuffed animals, balloons, and "Justice for Hershey" signs. People in Dayton are angry. They’re tired of seeing these cases—like Takoda Collins before him—where the signs were everywhere, but the "safety net" was full of holes.

What’s Happening Now in the Courts?

As of early 2026, the legal battles are moving on two fronts: criminal and civil.

Michael Kendrick is facing heavy charges, including tampering with evidence and gross abuse of a corpse. Ashley Johnson, the mother, was charged with obstructing justice. Interestingly, the initial charges weren't for the murder itself, partly because the remains were so decomposed that the coroner had a difficult time pinpointing the exact cause of death. Forensic anthropologists had to be brought in just to piece together the trauma Hershey endured.

Then there’s the civil suit. Attorney Michael Wright is going after both Montgomery and Clark counties. This isn't just about money; it’s about discovery. It’s about forcing these agencies to turn over the records that show exactly who saw what and why they didn't act.

Moving Forward: Actionable Insights for the Community

We can’t change what happened to Hershey, but the fallout from the Hershall Creachbaum Dayton Ohio case provides a roadmap for what needs to change in child advocacy.

  • Mandated Reporter Persistence: If you are a teacher or medical professional and you suspect abuse, don't stop at one report. If the agency "screens it out," escalate to law enforcement or a supervisor. The 24 reports in this case show that the sheer volume of reports should have triggered a different response.
  • Support Legislative Reform: Keep an eye on the child welfare reform bill being drafted in the Ohio House. It aims for more oversight and better training for caseworkers, especially regarding non-verbal children who are at a higher risk for abuse.
  • Community Watchfulness: Neighbors on Xenia Avenue mentioned they hadn't seen the boy in a long time. In cases involving special needs children who may not be in traditional social circles, that "absence" is a major red flag.

If you suspect a child is in danger in the Dayton area, you can contact the Montgomery County Children Services 24-hour child abuse hotline at 937-224-KIDS. Don't assume someone else has already made the call.