It’s the kind of news that hits you right in the gut, leaving a small town like Mt. Morris Township reeling from the shock. On a quiet Monday afternoon, gunfire shattered the peace at a home on 1275 W. Kurtz Ave., claiming the lives of two 28-year-old guys who had so much ahead of them—Isaiah Deonte Pruitt and Cameron Edrice-Raymond Washington-Glover. These weren’t just names on a police report; they were sons, brothers, friends whose sudden deaths have left families broken and a neighborhood whispering about what went so terribly wrong.
Picture this: It’s just after 4 p.m., and the air is still warm from the summer day when the first calls come in about shots fired. Mt. Morris Township police roll up fast, but what they find inside that modest residence is every parent’s worst nightmare. Isaiah and Cameron, both hit by fatal gunshot wounds, lay where they fell—one in the living room, the other in the kitchen. Police Chief Michael Veach didn’t mince words when he described the scene; it was grim, and both men were pronounced dead right there on the spot. At 28, these guys were at that age where life’s just starting to open up—jobs, maybe families of their own—and now, in an instant, it’s all gone.
The cops wasted no time locking down the place, turning what was once a family home into a full-on crime scene. They called in the big guns too: a Michigan State Police mobile crime lab to help sift through the chaos. Technicians in gloves and booties combed every inch, picking up shell casings that told a story of rapid, ruthless violence. They checked blood spatter for patterns that might reveal how it all went down, dusted for fingerprints, and swabbed for any DNA traces left behind by whoever pulled the trigger. Meanwhile, detectives fanned out into the neighborhood, knocking on doors and asking if anyone saw or heard anything—a car speeding away, a suspicious face, maybe even a glimpse from a Ring camera or some old security footage.
But here’s the frustrating part: even after all that hustle on Monday, the police are still in the dark about who did this or why. No suspect’s name has dropped, no motive’s been floated, and with no arrests in sight, the tension in Mt. Morris is thick enough to cut with a knife. Chief Veach and his team are pleading with folks to speak up—doesn’t have to be a smoking gun; even the tiniest detail, like a weird phone call or a car that didn’t belong, could crack this open. Families like Isaiah’s and Cameron’s are holding their breath, desperate for some kind of justice to make sense of the senseless.
You can feel the ache rippling out through social media, where friends and loved ones are pouring out their hearts. Posts are flooding in with photos of Isaiah cracking jokes at a barbecue or Cameron lighting up a room with his smile—reminders that these were good guys, the kind who showed up for you no matter what. “He was the heart of our crew,” one buddy wrote, while another shared how Cameron always had your back. It’s raw, this outpouring of grief, and it’s sparking bigger talks too: Why is violence creeping into places like this? How can a tight-knit community pull together to stop the next tragedy before it starts? Losing two lives like this, so young and so close, has everyone on edge, from the block next door to the schools they might’ve known.
As the sun sets on another day without answers, Mt. Morris is knitting itself closer in shared sorrow. Neighbors who barely nodded before are now hugging it out, lighting candles at a makeshift memorial sprouting up outside that address on Kurtz Ave. Isaiah and Cameron’s stories are weaving into the town’s fabric, a painful reminder of lives interrupted. Their families aren’t just mourning; they’re fighting for closure, and the rest of us? We’re left hoping that someone, somewhere, has that one piece of the puzzle.
If you’ve got even a whisper of info on this double homicide, don’t sit on it—call the Mt. Morris Township Police at 810-785-1311, extensions 261 or 236. They’re working around the clock, piecing together the why and the who behind this nightmare. In the meantime, the community rallies, determined to remember Isaiah Deonte Pruitt and Cameron Edrice-Raymond Washington-Glover not for how they left us, but for the light they brought while they were here. Two lives taken too soon, but their memory? That’s sticking around, urging us all to do better.
