On a bright June morning in 2016, Oregon’s forests welcomed hikers with sunshine and a cool breeze. Seventeen-year-old Cody Bowen and sixteen-year-old Lily Morgan, two close friends who shared a love for nature, set out for a familiar trail near Willow Creek Lake. They were experienced hikers, responsible teenagers, and well-loved by their community. By evening, they had vanished without a trace.
What followed was a search effort that consumed an entire town, a mystery that grew colder with each passing week, and an eventual discovery that horrified even veteran investigators. This is the story of how a simple summer hike ended in tragedy — and how a man’s buried trauma exploded into unimaginable violence.
Cody and Lily planned to hike to the far end of Willow Creek Lake, where an abandoned observation tower stood. They left their bikes at the trailhead around 8:30 a.m., locked them securely, and were last seen by Ranger Tom Henderson heading down the main trail. They promised to call their parents by 6:00 p.m. as they always did after hikes. That call never came.
When night fell and neither teenager returned, their parents—Jennifer Morgan and Michael Bowen—drove to the lake. The bikes were still there, untouched. There were no signs of a struggle, no footprints, no dropped belongings. Search teams arrived within the hour, scouring the forest through the night. Helicopters, divers, and dozens of volunteers joined the effort over the next three weeks. But the forest gave up no answers. The official search was eventually suspended.
Then autumn came. The forest grew quiet again. But on October 27, an anonymous call reached the police. The male caller, nervous and quiet, said there was “something important” near the lake’s eastern shore. He hung up before answering questions. It was the first real lead in four months.
The next morning, divers entered the frigid, murky lake. The visibility was low, the bottom choked with silt and fallen leaves. Within 30 minutes, a diver found Lily’s body wedged between two snags, carefully positioned, arms folded, stones tied to her limbs. Cody’s body was discovered nearby, in the same position.
But the horror deepened at the surface. Both teenagers’ eyes had been crudely sewn shut with coarse black thread. The discovery stunned investigators. This was no accident, no panicked crime of opportunity. It was deliberate, ritualistic, and deeply disturbing.
Autopsies revealed both had died from strangulation about a day after disappearing. There were no signs of sexual assault. Under Lily’s fingernails were dark hairs and green fleece fibers. The black thread was homemade—something often crafted by people living in isolation.
The investigation soon focused on locals who lived within ten miles of the lake. One name stood out: Greg Walker, a 42-year-old man who lived alone three miles from the trail. He had a criminal record for assaulting a minor and was known as a quiet recluse.
A search of his home uncovered a torn green fleece jacket matching the fibers found under Lily’s nails, a spool of identical black thread, and a box of printed photos of local teenagers—including Cody and Lily.
Walker was arrested without resistance. At first, he remained silent. But on the fourth day of interrogation, he broke. His confession was chilling.
He admitted to watching teenagers at the lake for weeks, driven by a twisted desire to control. His obsession traced back to childhood trauma: as a boy, he’d been locked in a dark basement by an abusive stepfather, terrified of what stared back in the dark. That fear mutated into an urge to control what others could see. Sewing the victims’ eyes shut was his way of silencing the gaze that haunted him.
Walker had ambushed Cody and Lily on their return hike, knocked Cody unconscious, and choked Lily until she passed out. He tied them up, took them to an old fishing hut on his property, and kept them overnight. By morning, he decided to kill them—believing release was impossible and captivity unsustainable.
After murdering them, he crudely sewed their eyes shut, weighted their bodies with stones, and submerged them in the lake. Four months later, his guilt led him to make the anonymous call.
Psychiatric evaluations revealed antisocial personality disorder and PTSD, but Walker was declared sane. He fully understood his actions. In 2018, he was convicted on all charges and sentenced to life in prison without parole, plus 25 years for kidnapping. He now spends 23 hours a day in solitary confinement.
Cody and Lily’s parents turned their grief into action. They created a forest safety foundation to improve emergency communication on hiking trails. Surveillance cameras were installed, extra rangers were deployed, and safety signage became standard. Willow Creek Lake still draws visitors—but the memory of what happened there lingers like a shadow over the trees.
What began as a summer adventure ended as one of Oregon’s darkest crimes. It was a story of obsession born from pain, of innocence destroyed by someone hiding in plain sight, and of a community forever changed by two teenagers who never made it home.