The Heartbreaking Discovery in Logan Federico’s Backpack: An Unfinished Diary Entry That Left Her Father in Tears

In the quiet town of Waxhaw, North Carolina, the Federico family once embodied the American dream—a close-knit household where 22-year-old Logan Hailey Federico shone as the vibrant center. Described by loved ones as “fun, fierce, and full of heart,” Logan was an aspiring teacher who had recently discovered her calling just weeks before her life was tragically cut short. A devoted Taylor Swift fan who jokingly claimed the song “22” was written for her, Logan was known for her strong will, loyalty, and passion for helping others, especially children. But on May 3, 2025, during a visit to friends at the University of South Carolina in Columbia, Logan’s bright future was shattered in a random act of violence that has since ignited a national outcry over criminal justice failures.

The nightmare began in the early hours of that fateful morning. Logan and her friends had returned from a night out around 3 a.m. to a rental home on Cypress Street, near the USC campus. Unbeknownst to them, 30-year-old Alexander Devonte Dickey, a career criminal with a staggering record of 39 arrests—including 25 felonies for crimes like robbery, drug possession, larceny, and burglary—had already broken into a neighboring home. There, he stole a firearm, keys to a vehicle, and various items before targeting the residence where Logan was staying. Police reports detail how Dickey entered the house, rifled through belongings, and then allegedly burst into Logan’s bedroom, where she was asleep beside her boyfriend.

What followed was a scene of unimaginable horror. Standing at just 5 feet 3 inches and weighing 115 pounds, the petite Logan was reportedly dragged from her bed, forced onto her knees with her hands over her head, and executed with a shot to the chest after begging for her life and calling for her father, Stephen Federico. Her body wasn’t discovered until hours later, lying undiscovered for seven agonizing hours while Dickey fled in the stolen vehicle, embarking on a brazen shopping spree using Logan’s stolen credit and debit cards at multiple stores in West Columbia and Saluda County. The vehicle eventually failed to start, stranding him and leading to his swift arrest after a manhunt.

Dickey’s criminal history is a damning indictment of systemic shortcomings. Since 2013, he had racked up nearly 40 charges but served only about 600 days in prison over a decade, thanks to plea deals, missing fingerprints, incomplete records, and early releases. In one critical 2014 first-degree burglary case, missing prior convictions allowed him to be sentenced as a first-time offender, avoiding a mandatory 15-year minimum. A 2023 burglary conviction earned him five years, but credit for time served and probation let him walk free just months before Logan’s murder. Stephen Federico later calculated that Dickey should have been imprisoned for over 140 years cumulatively. “The system failed Logan and the Federico family,” admitted First Circuit Solicitor David Pascoe.

The discovery that has haunted Stephen most profoundly came during the investigation into Logan’s belongings. Inside her backpack, investigators found a small diary containing an unfinished sentence: “When I see the stars, I will remember…” The last word trailed off, forever incomplete, a poignant reminder of dreams unfulfilled and a life abruptly ended. This personal artifact, symbolizing Logan’s reflective spirit and aspirations, reduced her father to tears when revealed, amplifying his grief into a fierce determination for justice. It underscored the innocence lost—not just in the violence, but in the simple, starry-eyed hopes of a young woman on the cusp of her teaching career.

News of Logan’s death hit the family like a “kick in the stomach,” with Stephen learning the horrific details from police. At a press conference days later, he broke down: “I am Logan Haley Federico’s father, better known as ‘Dad,’ or her hero. Unfortunately, that day, I could not be her hero.” Channeling his pain, Stephen has become a relentless advocate, testifying before the U.S. House Judiciary Subcommittee in Charlotte on September 29, 2025. There, he unleashed a raw tirade: “Bang! Dead. Gone. Why? Because Alexander Devante Dickey—who was arrested 39 g**damn times, 25 felonies—was on the street.” He corrected a congresswoman who confused Logan’s photo with another victim, Iryna Zarutska, declaring, “This is my daughter… Logan Federico. And you will not forget her.”

Federico’s fury extended to the lack of communication from prosecutors, vowing, “You woke up a beast—you pissed off the wrong daddy.” He demands the death penalty, arguing Dickey “executed” Logan, and pushes for federal intervention after local Solicitor Byron Gipson reportedly declined to seek capital punishment. South Carolina Attorney General Alan Wilson urged Gipson to reconsider by October 10, citing aggravating factors like the burglary-murder nexus. Congresswoman Nancy Mace has called on the DOJ to take over the case.

Inspired by similar tragedies, Stephen advocates for “Logan’s Law,” aiming to end cashless bail for violent offenders, fix record-keeping errors, and expedite death penalty appeals—echoing North Carolina’s recent veto-proof passage of “Iryna’s Law.” He plans a scholarship fund in Logan’s name to support future educators, honoring her belief in accountability. A GoFundMe has raised over $50,000 for the family, reflecting community support.

Logan’s story has resonated beyond her family, drawing comments from figures like golfer Phil Mickelson, who decried judicial lapses. As Dickey awaits trial on charges including murder, burglary, and armed robbery, Stephen’s fight continues: “I will fight until my last breath for my daughter.” The unfinished diary entry serves as a haunting emblem of loss, fueling a broader call for reform to prevent such “preventable and brutal” deaths. In the stars Logan gazed upon, her memory endures, urging accountability for the innocent