In October 2006, the small city of Waterloo, Iowa, was shaken to its core when 13-year-old Donnisha Hill disappeared after stepping off a school bus.
By the next day, her body was found dumped across the state line in rural Illinois—a brutal end to a life just beginning.
What investigators uncovered in the weeks that followed was a tale of grooming, betrayal, and a murder-for-hire plot that revealed the darkest lengths one man would go to silence a child.
A Young Life Interrupted
Born in 1992, Donnisha was like many eighth graders—she loved rollerblading, music, and art. Her family and classmates remembered her as bright, curious, and energetic. But beneath the surface of her routine life, Donnisha had become the target of a predator: her neighbor, 59-year-old used car salesman David Damm.
By fall 2006, Donnisha had confided to her parents that Damm had been abusing her. With DNA evidence pending, investigators were preparing charges. But Donnisha’s courage in speaking out made her the one person who could bring Damm to justice—and tragically, it also made her a target.
The Vanishing
On October 27, 2006, Donnisha boarded her school bus. She was supposed to be dropped off at a newly reassigned stop near her home—arranged by her mother to keep her away from Damm’s dealership. But instead, she insisted on exiting at her old stop near his business.
Her bus driver, deeply unsettled, radioed dispatch with an ominous warning: “That man’s going to kill her.”
Hours later, Donnisha never arrived home. Her disappearance triggered frantic searches by her parents, police, and neighbors.
A Body Across State Lines
The next day, Donnisha’s worst fate was confirmed. Her body was discovered in rural Jo Daviess County, Illinois. The medical examiner determined she had been killed by blunt force trauma to the head.
What at first looked like a possible abduction soon unraveled into something even darker: a contract killing designed to ensure she never testified.
Murder-for-Hire Uncovered
Detectives learned that Damm had turned to an acquaintance, Bruce Bert, a local man with a criminal record. Bert later confessed that Damm offered him money to “make the girl disappear” before charges could stick.
According to Bert, Damm lured Donnisha to him and handed her off with \$40 cash. Bert then drove her into the countryside, armed with a hammer and a knife. In chilling testimony, he admitted he struck the 13-year-old repeatedly before fleeing, leaving her lifeless in the woods.
Bert’s confession directly implicated Damm in orchestrating the killing.
The Trials and Sentences
In 2008, Damm stood trial for first-degree murder, kidnapping, and conspiracy. Despite taking the stand to deny arranging the killing, his shifting testimony, the DNA evidence, and Bert’s cooperation sealed his fate.
The jury convicted Damm on all counts, concluding Donnisha’s killing was a calculated act of obstruction of justice—a murder-for-hire designed to protect a predator.
He was sentenced to death in 2009, though that sentence was later commuted to life without parole when Illinois abolished the death penalty. Damm died behind bars in 2014. Bert, who avoided the death penalty by testifying against Damm, was also sentenced to life in prison.
A Family’s Fight for Justice
Donnisha’s grieving family pursued civil action, filing lawsuits against both the Waterloo Police Department and First Student, the bus company responsible for her transportation. They settled with police for $103,000, though their case against the bus company was dismissed.
Yet no civil judgment could mend the loss of a child whose life was stolen by abuse, betrayal, and calculated violence.
The Legacy of Donnisha’s Story
Nearly two decades later, Donnisha Hill’s case stands as a haunting reminder of how fragile child safety can be—and how predators exploit trust and proximity to manipulate the vulnerable.
It also underscores the terrifying reality that some will go to unimaginable lengths to silence victims. While her killers will never walk free again, Donnisha’s story continues to echo through true crime podcasts, legal case studies, and the collective memory of a community that still grieves.
Her life was cut short at just 13 years old—but her story demands to be told.
