In the quiet rural expanse of Green County, Wisconsin, a case that has haunted the community for nearly five years is finally inching toward resolution. Logan Kruckenberg-Anderson, now 21, is set to stand trial on October 27, 2025, for the first-degree intentional homicide of his newborn daughter, Harper. When the crime occurred in January 2021, Kruckenberg-Anderson was just 16, a high schooler thrust into unimaginable circumstances after his teenage girlfriend gave birth in a bathtub at a home in the Village of Albany. What unfolded in the snowy woods nearby wasn’t a desperate act of abandonment but a calculated execution: the infant, naked and vulnerable, was shot twice in the head, stuffed into a fallen tree’s hollow, covered in snow, and left to die. The revelation came after layers of deception unraveled, exposing a chilling tale of denial, panic, and cold-blooded violence.

The Village of Albany, a speck on the map with fewer than 1,000 residents, is the kind of place where winters bite hard and secrets don’t stay buried long. On January 5, 2021, in the midst of a typical Midwest cold snap, the unnamed mother—also a teenager—delivered Harper at home without medical assistance. The couple, ill-equipped for parenthood, quickly concluded they couldn’t raise the child. According to the criminal complaint, they weighed options like dropping her at the local fire station or driving to an adoption agency in Madison, about 30 miles north. Wisconsin’s safe haven law allows parents to surrender newborns anonymously at hospitals, fire stations, or police departments without legal repercussions, but that path was never taken. Instead, Kruckenberg-Anderson volunteered to “get rid of” the baby by leaving her somewhere.

What happened next, as detailed in court documents, defies comprehension. Kruckenberg-Anderson placed the naked newborn into a backpack and ventured into the woods near his home. He transferred her to a larger bag to quiet her cries, bouncing on his heels as he trudged through the snow in a futile attempt to soothe her. Deep in the forest, he selected a fallen tree with a snow-filled hollow, deposited Harper inside, and piled snow over her tiny body. As he walked away, the baby’s cries echoed behind him. Overwhelmed, he dropped to his knees in the drifts, sobbing before fleeing the scene. He later claimed to investigators that he knew exposure would kill her quickly in the subzero temperatures.

But the snow concealed more than hypothermia. On January 9, 2021, Harper’s maternal grandfather grew alarmed when Kruckenberg-Anderson took the baby from the house days earlier and hadn’t returned. He contacted authorities, sparking an urgent search. When deputies located Kruckenberg-Anderson, his story shifted. Initially, he spun a tale of benevolence: He’d connected via Snapchat with a man named “Tyler,” described as driving a black SUV, and paid him $60 to deliver Harper to an adoption center. The mother corroborated this fabrication at first, but cracks appeared under scrutiny.

Investigators pressed, and Kruckenberg-Anderson’s account evolved. He admitted to the woods excursion but insisted he’d only abandoned her to die of cold, hearing her wail as he departed. Desperate to locate the infant, he led deputies to the site on January 10. What they found shattered the exposure narrative: Harper’s body, still partially covered in snow, bore a gunshot wound to the forehead. A Wisconsin State Crime Lab technician noted two spent bullets and shell casings nearby—one in the backpack Kruckenberg-Anderson identified as the transport bag. The snow around the body showed deformation from residual heat, indicating Harper was alive or recently deceased when placed there. An autopsy confirmed the cause of death: two close-range shots to the head, fired while she lived.

Confronted with the evidence, Kruckenberg-Anderson confessed fully. Days before the abandonment, he’d handed a handgun to an unnamed juvenile associate. That firearm, later turned in to the Green County Sheriff’s Office, matched the caliber of the bullets recovered. The teen admitted pulling the trigger twice, execution-style, before concealing the corpse. Charged as an adult under Wisconsin law—which allows prosecution of minors 10 and older for serious felonies like homicide—he faced first-degree intentional homicide and hiding a corpse of a child. Bond was set at $1 million, where it remains; a 2024 bid to reduce it was denied by a judge who cited the crime’s “worst that it gets” severity.

The mother’s role has drawn scrutiny but no charges. She participated in the initial decision to relinquish Harper and echoed the adoption lie early on. Investigators determined she was unaware of the shooting, and her cooperation factored into leniency. The family, already fractured by teen pregnancy in a conservative rural area, has largely stayed silent. The grandfather’s 911 call was pivotal, but public statements from relatives are scarce, leaving the focus on Kruckenberg-Anderson’s actions.

Kruckenberg-Anderson in court appearance related to the case

Legal proceedings dragged due to appeals and delays typical in high-profile juvenile-to-adult transfers. Kruckenberg-Anderson pleaded not guilty in February 2021, and an appellate court upheld the adult charging decision. By March 2025, trial dates were set: starting October 27, spanning up to 10 days at the Green County Justice Center in Monroe. The final pre-trial hearing on October 14, 2025, wrapped without surprises, confirming the adult trial path. Potential jurors across the county received questionnaires, a sign of the case’s local resonance. Prosecutor statements emphasize the premeditated nature—debating abandonment options before opting for lethal force—while defense strategies remain under wraps, possibly leaning on youth, mental health, or duress claims.

This tragedy spotlights broader failures in adolescent support systems. Rural Wisconsin, like many areas, grapples with limited access to prenatal care, contraception education, and crisis pregnancy resources. Infanticide cases often stem from secrecy and shame, exacerbated by fear of judgment in tight-knit communities. Experts note that safe surrender laws, in place since 2000 in Wisconsin, aim to prevent such outcomes, yet awareness is low among teens. Harper’s death echoes rare but devastating instances where panic overrides rationality, with the father’s progression from lies to confession underscoring psychological turmoil.

As trial approaches, Albany residents brace for relived horrors. The woods where Harper perished—a now-familiar spot in news footage—stand as a grim reminder amid fall foliage turning to winter’s approach. Community leaders have urged privacy, but the case’s details, unsealed in court filings, fuel online discussions and true-crime fascination. For Kruckenberg-Anderson, conviction could mean life imprisonment; acquittal or lesser charges seem improbable given the confession and forensics.

Harper, who would be nearly five today, represents innocence snuffed out in seconds. Her story compels reflection on prevention: better sex education, expanded safe havens, and mental health support for young parents. As jurors prepare to deliberate, the question lingers—not just of guilt, but how a 16-year-old reached that frozen hollow with a gun in hand. In Green County’s quiet corners, the trial may close a chapter, but the chill of that January day endures.