What follows has been edited for content and relevance to the ongoing investigation
into events in Sugar Creek, Ohio on the night of September 26-27, 2015.
The journal entries over the year following the launch of the Sugar Creek bicentennial countdown follow Mr. Corrie's numerous attempts to disrupt construction on the water reclamation and Creekside Estates projects, all of which are a part of public police record. Most of these attempts take the form of picketing milestone events and disseminating what Sugar Creek Police Chief Talbot derisively refers to as "The Corrie Manifesto," a packet of information summarizing his research reflected in his journal entries over the previous year.
A turning point in the severity of these incidents came on February 26, 2015, after an attempt to publish his "Manifesto" in the local newsletter. This attempt was refused by Leonard Painter, the newsletter's editor, resulting in a loud altercation between Mr. Corrie and Mr. Painter in the newsletter offices. Mr. Painter was overheard referring to Mr. Corrie as "a public nuisance seeking to capitalize off of the tragedy of others." (It is believed Mr. Painter was referring to the Weaver case and Mr. Corrie's disastrous announcement from January 2014.) At this, according to newsletter employees, Mr. Corrie "went wild, cursing and screaming at Lenny (sic) and throwing those pamphlets of his everywhere. He said if we didn't let him publish, we were gonna learn what tragedy really meant." It was at this point that Mrs. Corrie intervened and led him out of the building. After a discussion between Mrs. Corrie and Mr. Painter, the latter agreed not to call the police or press charges up on agreement that Mr. Corrie would be barred from the premises. Mrs. Corrie agreed to a hiatus as well, and conducted her work remotely for the next six months in an attempt to monitor her husband's activity.
In the weeks following this event, two incidents took place that further escalated local police scrutiny into his disruptive actions. The first took place on March 16, in which construction workers at Creekside Estates discovered that sugar had been added to the fuel tanks of three earthmoving vehicles, resulting in no damage. Mr. Corrie was questioned by police in the matter but denied involvement, and no evidence linking him to it was found. The following excerpt from his journal, however, suggests otherwise:
March 19, 2015
Desperation and stupidity are kissing cousins of mine, it seems. Tried to put the enemy in a diabetic coma and ended up giving them heartburn instead. Jesus, what was I thinking? I should have at least watched a YouTube video to see if such grade-school idiocy would even work before trying it. My heart is still pounding from the interview, you'd think they could have seen it through my shirt the way it felt.
Also, what did I just write? "The enemy?" No, no, I need to remember who the real enemy is. In spite of everything this town has put me through, they're just it's pawns. They know not what they do.
The second incident took place that summer, when construction manager Eric Bruhl failed to report to work at Creekside the morning of July 27. His car, a 2013 Dodge Durango, was found in the employee lot near the site, where security footage confirmed it had sat since the previous Friday. This same footage provided Mr. Bruhl's last known sighting, showing him leaving the construction office late Friday evening, several hours after work had ended.
A countywide search was initiated by local and state police organizations. Interviews with family and employees confirm that Mr. Bruhl was a heavy drinker, and empty alcohol bottles and cans discovered in the construction office and in Mr. Bruhl's car suggest that he often stayed onsite after hours for this purpose after his wife had forbidden him to drink at home. Authorities considered an equal possibility of either foul play or accident in his disappearance, but have been unable to conclude either due to lack of evidence.
As part of the investigation, Mr. Corrie was interviewed as a person of interest, but was able to establish and corroborate his wherabouts on the day in question. No other connection could be established between him and the missing construction manager.
Once again, a cryptic entry from a few days after the inquiry casts Mr. Corrie's alibi into doubt:
August 6, 2015
So that's who those car keys belonged to. I knew when I found them wedged under my front tire that something was up. They weren't old and corroded like the other artifacts, even if they were crusted with that red mud. They were new. Jesus Christ, that poor bastard.
What's it up to now? Did it just try to frame me for murder? No, if it had wanted to do that, it would have left them for the police to find, not me. And is this thing even capable of that level of strategy? God, do I even want to know?
No, it was sending me a message. It's expanding its reach. If it was able to take someone that far from its source, that far from the creek...is there any hope of stopping it now?
That's what it wants me to think. That it can't be stopped. That resisting it is pointless. But if that's true...why would it need to tell me anything? Why would it bother with me at all anymore, unless it felt I was still a threat? Not sure how that's possible. The bicentennial's a month-and-a-half away, and all I've done is ruin what was left of my life.
I'm fairly certain Rachel hates me. She won't talk to me, but she's always watching me. During the interview, she stood in the doorway and just stared at me with this look of contempt, mixed with what I would guess was fear. Does she think I did what they were alleging? That I am capable of killing someone? I suspect, in all seriousness, that this is the only reason she hasn't filed for divorce at this point.
After it was over, I slipped out the back of the house while she wasn't looking and threw the keys in the creek. If this thing's M.O. holds up, I doubt they'll be found again. As I came back, Rachel was on the porch, arms crossed, her eyes boring into me. I tried to say something, but she just turned and walked back into the house.
Please, God. Please help me. I don't know what to do.
So that's who those car keys belonged to. I knew when I found them wedged under my front tire that something was up. They weren't old and corroded like the other artifacts, even if they were crusted with that red mud. They were new. Jesus Christ, that poor bastard.
What's it up to now? Did it just try to frame me for murder? No, if it had wanted to do that, it would have left them for the police to find, not me. And is this thing even capable of that level of strategy? God, do I even want to know?
No, it was sending me a message. It's expanding its reach. If it was able to take someone that far from its source, that far from the creek...is there any hope of stopping it now?
That's what it wants me to think. That it can't be stopped. That resisting it is pointless. But if that's true...why would it need to tell me anything? Why would it bother with me at all anymore, unless it felt I was still a threat? Not sure how that's possible. The bicentennial's a month-and-a-half away, and all I've done is ruin what was left of my life.
I'm fairly certain Rachel hates me. She won't talk to me, but she's always watching me. During the interview, she stood in the doorway and just stared at me with this look of contempt, mixed with what I would guess was fear. Does she think I did what they were alleging? That I am capable of killing someone? I suspect, in all seriousness, that this is the only reason she hasn't filed for divorce at this point.
After it was over, I slipped out the back of the house while she wasn't looking and threw the keys in the creek. If this thing's M.O. holds up, I doubt they'll be found again. As I came back, Rachel was on the porch, arms crossed, her eyes boring into me. I tried to say something, but she just turned and walked back into the house.
Please, God. Please help me. I don't know what to do.
Multiple searches of Sugar Creek near the Corrie property have been unable to produce Mr. Bruhl's car keys.
To date, no trace of Mr. Bruhl has been found, and the case remains open.
To date, no trace of Mr. Bruhl has been found, and the case remains open.
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