When Fear Lives in the Margins of a Journal: The Disappearance of Susan Powell

Posted by Trin | Case Files | Missing Persons | Utah | December 2009

Introduction

On December 7, 2009, Susan Powell didn’t show up for work. Her daycare provider reported that her two boys never arrived. Her phone was still on the charger. Her purse was at home. Her husband? Off on a spontaneous midnight camping trip—in the middle of a Utah snowstorm—with their toddlers.

And Susan was gone.

This case doesn’t haunt me because it’s mysterious. It haunts me because so much of it wasn’t. Susan saw it coming. She left notes. She made a video. She told her friends, her coworkers, her family. She tried—so hard—to be heard.

And still, no one stopped it.

Case Background

Susan Cox Powell was 28 years old. A mom of two, a wife, a daughter, a friend. She lived in West Valley City, Utah, worked for Wells Fargo, taught Sunday school, and baked her own bread. She was thoughtful, responsible, deeply spiritual—and, as we’d later learn, terrified.

She was married to Josh Powell, a man who seemed—at least from the outside—like a typical stressed young husband and dad. But inside their home, Susan was afraid. She journaled about his controlling behavior. She told friends that Josh monitored her spending, refused to share financial information, and belittled her in front of the kids.

She documented her fears. She made a secret home video cataloging her belongings “just in case.” She updated her will. She wrote, “If I die, it may not be an accident.”

What kind of emotional storm must have been building in her for those words to feel necessary? How long had she been quietly preparing for the worst while still showing up every day for her boys?

Timeline of Key Events

  • Sunday, December 6, 2009: Susan and the boys attend church. That evening, a neighbor visits. Susan lies down with a headache. Josh is reportedly making pancakes for dinner. The neighbor leaves around 5 p.m.
  • Late that night: Josh says he decided to take a spontaneous camping trip with the boys—to Simpson Springs, a remote desert area. It’s past midnight. It’s freezing. There’s snow on the ground. He brings no extra blankets, little food, and leaves his wife behind.
  • Monday, December 7: Susan doesn’t show up to work. Her car is still in the garage. The boys aren’t dropped off at daycare. Police are called. Inside the home, Susan is gone. Her purse and phone are there. Two box fans are blowing on a freshly cleaned carpet. Josh is unreachable until later that afternoon, when he returns home with the boys—calm, vague, and uninterested in Susan’s whereabouts.

Why wasn’t he panicked? Where did he really go that night? Why didn’t he call 911? Why didn’t he ask, “Has anyone seen Susan?”

Red Flags That Were Screaming

  • Josh never participated in searches or spoke to the media.
  • He drained Susan’s 401(k) shortly after her disappearance.
  • He refused polygraphs and declined to cooperate with police.
  • He bought a new mattress and discarded the old one just days later.
  • Susan’s journals, video, and conversations all pointed to fear and danger.
  • Josh’s father, Steven Powell, was obsessed with Susan—secretly filming her, stealing her personal items, and writing disturbing fantasies in his journal.
  • The Powell children began talking about their mom being “in the trunk” and said she went camping “but didn’t come back.”

What were those little boys remembering? What had they seen? And how long had they been absorbing the quiet chaos happening around them?

What Really Happened That Night?

We still don’t know for sure. But based on all the evidence, here’s what we can ask—and what many believe:

  • Did Susan try to confront Josh that night?
  • Was her death planned in advance—or did something escalate out of control?
  • Why the box fans? Why the midnight drive? Why no emergency call?

Police believe Susan was murdered, possibly in her home, and possibly in front of her children. Her body has never been found. Josh was never charged. Despite all the signs, there was no arrest. No trial. No justice.

The Final Blow

In 2012, Josh lost custody of the boys. During what should have been a supervised visit, he locked the caseworker out of the house. He attacked Charlie and Braden with a hatchet before setting the house on fire—killing them and himself.

He had planned it. Sent goodbye emails. Gave away toys. Knew what he was doing.

We lost not just Susan—but her boys. And with them, any chance for accountability.

A Mom’s Reflection

This is the case that breaks something in every mother who hears it. Not just because of how it ended—but because of all the ways it could’ve ended differently.

Susan did everything right. She journaled. She told people. She planned. She left evidence.

How many other women are quietly preparing for their own “just in case”? How many are silenced not by their abusers, but by systems that overlook their cries?

We read her story and wonder:
Would I have noticed?
Would I have believed her?
Would I have done more?

Susan’s Story in Documentaries, Podcasts, and Movies

Susan’s case has been covered in numerous powerful ways, all bringing awareness to the failure of systems and the resilience of one woman:

  • The Disappearance of Susan Cox Powell (Oxygen, 2019): A gripping two-part documentary filled with interviews, family footage, and chilling reenactments. It highlights systemic gaps that let her fall through.
  • Cold Podcast (KSL & Wondery): Hosted by Dave Cawley, this in-depth series uses original audio recordings, Susan’s journal entries, and meticulous research. It’s emotional, respectful, and eye-opening.
  • Dateline NBC: Several episodes have spotlighted this case, often with updates on the investigation and the heartbreaking legacy of the Powell family.
  • The Susan Powell Story: A Murder Mystery (Lifetime): A dramatized TV movie that brings Susan’s experience to the screen and sheds light on domestic violence and the emotional trauma behind the headlines.

Lessons We Can’t Ignore

  • Journals matter. So do quiet warnings, subtle changes, and offhand remarks.
  • Abuse isn’t always physical. It can be controlling, isolating, psychological.
  • “Just in case” plans are never made lightly. Believe them. Ask questions.
  • Children know more than we realize. Pay attention to their words and drawings.
  • Systems fail. When they do, it’s up to us to speak louder than them.

Final Words

Susan Powell’s story is a tragedy—but it’s also a warning. It’s a mirror. It’s a call to listen closely to the people in our lives and to speak louder when someone we love starts whispering out of fear.

Her life mattered. So did Charlie’s. So did Braden’s.

We owe it to them—and to every family still living in the shadows of silence—to keep telling their story.

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