The Vanishing of the Krnak Family | USA
It was the summer of 1998, and America was preparing to celebrate Independence Day. In the small rural community of Helenville, Wisconsin, the Krnak family was looking forward to a relaxing Fourth of July weekend at their cabin up north. The cabin near Coloma was their retreat, a place where they could escape the everyday and enjoy the peace of the Wisconsin countryside.
On Thursday, July 2nd, 55-year-old Allen Krnak, his wife Donna, 52, and their younger son Thomas, 21, loaded up their dark navy blue Ford F-150 pickup truck. Their golden cocker spaniel, Hunter, jumped into the cab with them. The drive to the cabin would take about two hours. They planned to spend the long weekend fishing, relaxing, and celebrating the holiday. It should have been an ordinary family getaway.
But Allen, Donna, Thomas, and Hunter never made it to the cabin. They vanished without a trace.
When the family failed to return home as scheduled, their eldest son, 29-year-old Andrew Krnak, reported them missing. But as investigators began to piece together the timeline of that fateful day, they realized something was terribly wrong. The family's truck was found abandoned and wiped clean. There were no signs of an accident, no indication of where the family might have gone.
This is the story of the vanishing of the Krnak family.
You are listening to: The Evidence Locker.
Thanks for listening to our podcast. This episode is made possible by our sponsors—be sure to check them out for exclusive deals. For an ad-free experience, join us on Patreon, starting at just $2 a month, with 25% of proceeds supporting The Doe Network, helping to bring closure to international cold cases. Links are in the show notes.
Our episodes cover true crimes involving real people, and some content may be graphic in nature. Listener discretion is advised. We produce each episode with the utmost respect for the victims, their families, and loved ones.
The case:
The Krnaks were, by all accounts, a hardworking and private family. Allen Krnak worked at Monarch Range in Beaver Dam, where he had been employed for years. He was known as a reliable and dedicated employee, the kind of man who showed up on time and did his job well. His co-workers respected him, and Allen seemed to take pride in his work.
Donna Krnak was equally hardworking. She had spent years employed at various positions, always contributing to the family's modest income. Together, Allen and Donna had built a comfortable life in their home in rural Jefferson County, not far from the small town of Helenville. The property on Lundt Road was quiet and secluded, the kind of place where neighbors respected each other's privacy.
The Krnaks had two sons. Their younger son, Thomas, was 21 years old and a student at the University of Wisconsin at Stevens Point. Thomas was a bright young man, only 5'4" tall with brown hair and brown eyes. He wore glasses and had a small scar on his right thumb. By all accounts, Thomas was a good kid who worked hard at his studies and had a promising future ahead of him. He was home for the summer, working a job before returning to campus in the fall.
Their eldest son, Andrew, was 29 years old. He had left home at 18 to attend community college in North Carolina, eventually graduating from Western Carolina University with a degree in psychology. Andrew had returned to Wisconsin and was living with his parents while attending the University of Wisconsin at Whitewater.
On the surface, the Krnaks seemed like a typical Midwestern family. They kept to themselves, went about their daily routines, and looked forward to spending time together at their cabin in the woods. Nothing about them suggested they were the type of people who would simply disappear.
The afternoon of July 2nd, 1998, started like any other workday for Allen Krnak. He was at his job at Monarch Range in Beaver Dam, performing his usual duties. But at 3:10 p.m., Allen received a phone call at work. The call came from the Krnak residence.
After taking the call, something changed. Allen's co-worker, James Connelly, who had known Allen for over 20 years, noticed that Allen seemed visibly distressed. Allen told his colleagues that he had to leave immediately. He said there was a family emergency and mentioned something about possibly having to go to a funeral. It was an odd thing to say, but Allen seemed genuinely upset.
Allen left work early that day, shortly before he was scheduled to finish his shift. His co-workers watched him go, concerned but not overly worried. Family emergencies happen. Perhaps someone had been in an accident, or a relative had taken ill. No one could have imagined what was really happening.
Allen Krnak would never return to work. His co-workers would never see him alive again.
According to Andrew's later account to police, Allen returned home from work between 3:20 and 3:25 p.m. that afternoon. Donna arrived home shortly after 4:00 p.m. Andrew said he was home when they all arrived, and he watched as his parents and brother packed up the pickup truck with their belongings for the cabin trip. He said he helped them prepare, loading up fishing gear, clothes, and supplies.
Andrew claimed he last saw his family around 5:30 p.m. as they left for the cabin, with Hunter the dog riding in the truck cab. The plan, as Andrew understood it, was for his parents and Thomas to spend the long Fourth of July weekend at the cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the northwoods.
Andrew chose not to accompany them on the trip, and stayed home in Helenville.
The family was supposed to meet a friend, James Gradel, at some point during the weekend. They had also arranged to meet someone about purchasing wood for the cabin. These were casual plans, the kind neighbors and friends make when they know someone is heading up north for a few days.
But the Krnak family never showed up to either meeting. The neighbors who kept an eye on the cabin in Waushara County confirmed that no one had been there that weekend. The cabin sat empty, waiting for a family that would never arrive.
Four days passed. Then five. Then six.
It wasn't unusual for the Krnaks to be gone for an extended weekend, but when they didn't return as scheduled, Andrew became concerned. On July 6th, 1998, four days after his family had left for the cabin, Andrew called the Waushara County Sheriff's Department to report them missing.
He explained that his parents and brother had left for their cabin on July 2nd and were supposed to return home, but they never came back. He said he had tried calling the cabin but got no answer. He had driven up to check on them, but the cabin was locked and showed no signs that anyone had been there. Andrew told police he was worried something terrible had happened.
The Waushara County authorities began an initial investigation, but when they confirmed the family had never arrived at the cabin, the case was transferred to Jefferson County, where the family actually lived and where they were last seen.
Investigators started asking the obvious questions. Had anyone else seen the Krnaks leave that day? Had they stopped for gas anywhere? Had anyone talked to them after 5:30 p.m. on July 2nd? The answer to all these questions was no. The last confirmed sighting of Allen Krnak was at his workplace before 3:10 p.m. and leaving their home. After that, the family seemed to simply vanish into thin air.
Four days after Andrew reported the family missing, on July 10th, he contacted a Department of Natural Resources game warden in Sauk County. He mentioned a location near the family cabin where the family often hunted. He suggested that authorities search there, thinking perhaps they had been in some kind of accident in the woods.
It did not take investigators long to make a puzzling discovery: they found the Krnak family's Ford F-150 truck. It was abandoned on public hunting grounds near Reedsburg in Sauk County, Wisconsin, not far from the location Andrew had suggested searching.
When they examined the vehicle, they immediately noticed something strange. The truck had been wiped completely clean of fingerprints, inside and out. Every surface, the steering wheel, the door handles, the dashboard, the gear shift, all of it had been carefully cleaned. This was no ordinary abandoned vehicle.
There was no luggage in the truck, despite the fact that the family had supposedly packed for a long weekend trip. There was no fishing gear, no clothes, no supplies. There was no sign of Allen, Donna, Thomas, or Hunter the dog. The truck was simply there, empty and spotless, sitting alone in the woods.
When investigators examined the odometer, they discovered something even more troubling. Allen religiously kept a logbook. This revealed that the truck had traveled about 2,600 miles since the family had last been confirmed to be using it. That was a staggering amount of mileage for a vehicle that should have only driven about four hours round trip to the cabin. In fact, 2,600 miles was enough to drive from Wisconsin to North Carolina and back, a journey of approximately 1,560 miles round trip, with plenty of mileage to spare.
The discovery of the cleaned truck sent alarm bells ringing for investigators. This was no longer a simple missing persons case. Something was very, very wrong.
Jefferson County investigators launched a massive search effort. They organized search parties to comb through the woods near the cabin and near where the truck had been found. Volunteers from the community joined law enforcement in searching for any sign of the missing family. They looked for clothing, personal belongings, anything that might indicate what had happened to the Krnaks.
They interviewed neighbors in Helenville. Had anyone seen the family leave that day? Had anyone heard arguing or noticed anything unusual at the Krnak property? The answer was always the same: no. The Krnaks kept to themselves. They were quiet, private people. Their house sat back from the road, and neighbors respected their privacy.
Investigators interviewed friends and acquaintances. They talked to Allen's co-workers at Monarch Range, trying to understand why Allen had left work early that day, what that mysterious phone call had been about. They spoke with Donna's former employers. They contacted Thomas's friends and professors at the university.
They checked hospitals and morgues across multiple states, hoping—and dreading—that the family might have been in an accident somewhere. They checked financial records, looking for any activity on credit cards or bank accounts. There was nothing. No charges, no withdrawals, no sign that the Krnaks had used their money anywhere.
The lack of evidence was maddening. It was as if the entire family had simply ceased to exist after 5:30 p.m. on July 2nd, 1998.
Weeks turned into months. The case generated significant media attention in Wisconsin. Missing persons flyers were distributed throughout the state, featuring photographs of Allen, Donna, and Thomas. But despite the widespread publicity, no credible sightings came in.
As the investigation wore on, detectives began to focus more closely on the one person who claimed to have been the last to see the family alive: Andrew Krnak. His story was consistent, but there were elements of it that didn't quite add up.
Andrew admitted that he had made the phone call to his father's workplace at 3:10 p.m. Initially, he denied it, but when phone records confirmed the call had come from the Krnak residence, he changed his story. He said he had called because he was working on his parents' car and couldn't find a tool he needed.
But this explanation didn't make sense. Why would a missing tool constitute such an urgent family emergency that Allen would tell his co-workers he might have to go to a funeral? What kind of tool problem could cause that level of distress?
Then, just days after reporting his family missing, Andrew did something that struck investigators as highly suspicious. On July 8th, 1998—just six days after his family vanished—Andrew legally changed his name to Derek Nicholas Anderson. He also changed his date of birth and his Social Security number.
When investigators asked him why he had changed his identity so soon after his family disappeared, Anderson offered no satisfactory explanation. It seemed like the act of someone trying to distance themselves from something, someone trying to become a different person entirely.
The investigation continued, but without bodies, without a crime scene, and without any physical evidence of foul play, prosecutors had no case. They couldn't even prove that a crime had been committed, let alone charge anyone with it.
Eventually, the case went cold. The Krnak family home stood empty. Old, weathered missing persons flyers were stuffed in the mailbox. The community held out hope that somehow, somewhere, the Krnaks would be found alive. As the months stretched into a year, hope began to fade.
Then, in July 1999, Derek Anderson was arrested in Minnesota on an entirely different charge. He had been caught falsifying student loan documents to obtain federal student loans fraudulently. Anderson pleaded guilty to the federal loan fraud charges and was sentenced to 17 months in prison. He served his time at a Milwaukee halfway house.
The conviction didn't directly relate to his family's disappearance, but it painted a picture of someone willing to lie and manipulate the system for financial gain. Investigators noted it, but still, they had no evidence to connect Anderson to any crime against his family.
For more than a year, the investigation into the Krnak family's disappearance remained at a standstill. Then, in December 1999, everything changed. A hunter was exploring a remote, wooded area in Jackson County, North Carolina, near Moses Creek in the Nantahala National Forest. The area was rugged and isolated, the kind of place where few people ventured. As the hunter made his way through the dense undergrowth, he stumbled upon something that made his blood run cold: skeletal remains.
The hunter immediately contacted authorities. Jackson County Sheriff's deputies responded to the scene, along with investigators from the North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation. What they found was a grim discovery in the remote forest.
The skeletal remains were clearly human. Along with the bones, investigators discovered several items scattered in the dirt: a woman's t-shirt, a pair of men's briefs, and a 14-karat gold ring. When they examined the ring more closely, they found an inscription on the inside: "DKW & AFK." Nearby, they also found the skeletal remains of what appeared to be a dog.
The remains were sent for analysis, but without dental records to compare them to, making a positive identification would be difficult. The case of the unidentified remains in North Carolina remained open, but for months, investigators had no idea who the victim was.
Then, in January 2001, more than a year after the remains were discovered, fate intervened in an unexpected way. An FBI agent was working on an entirely different investigation—the manhunt for suspected Olympic Park bomber Eric Rudolph, who was believed to be hiding somewhere in the mountains of western North Carolina.
While reviewing law enforcement bulletins and missing persons cases for the region, the FBI agent came across information about the unidentified remains found in Jackson County. The bulletin mentioned the engraved ring found with the body: "DKW & AFK."
Something about those initials triggered a memory. The agent recalled seeing a missing persons case from Wisconsin involving a family named Krnak. Could there be a connection?
The FBI agent contacted Wisconsin authorities and suggested they request dental records for the missing Krnak family members. On January 22, 2001, more than two and a half years after the Krnak family disappeared, authorities made a positive identification.
The skeletal remains found in the North Carolina mountains belonged to Allen Frederick Krnak.
An autopsy revealed the cause of death. Allen had died from blunt force trauma to the head. His skull had been fractured, and his jaw was broken in two places. Someone had beaten him to death with a heavy object, likely a club or similar weapon. The manner of death was ruled a homicide.
The ring found in the dirt was identified as Donna Krnak's wedding ring. The initials stood for "Donna Kay Wrezenski & Allen Frederick Krnak." The dog remains were consistent with a cocker spaniel, likely Hunter, the family pet.
But there was no sign of Donna or Thomas. Despite extensive searches of the area by more than 60 law enforcement officers from both Jackson County, North Carolina, and Jefferson County, Wisconsin, no other human remains were found. The forest had given up only one of its secrets.
Finally, after nearly three years, investigators had proof that at least one member of the Krnak family had been murdered. And the location of the body was the key that would unlock the entire case.
They began digging deeper into Derek Anderson's background and his connection to the area where his father's body had been found. What they discovered was striking. Anderson had attended Western Carolina University from 1991 to 1996, living both in Reynolds Dormitory and off-campus in Cullowhee's Alpine Apartments. He knew the area intimately.
More than that, Anderson had been an avid hiker during his college years. He was a member of a hiking club that frequently explored the Nantahala National Forest. The remote location where Allen's body was found was not some random spot in the wilderness—it was in an area Anderson knew well, a place he had hiked before.
Investigators also discovered something telling: just two weeks after his family disappeared in July 1998, Anderson had been treated for poison ivy. This was consistent with someone who had recently been hiking through the woods in the North Carolina mountains, where poison ivy grows abundantly.
The 2,600 miles on the family truck now made perfect sense. It was almost exactly the distance needed to drive from Wisconsin to the Nantahala National Forest and back, with a little extra mileage for navigating mountain roads and finding a remote disposal site.
Police had a second look at troubling statements made by Allen Krnak's co-workers. Patricia Ellifson told investigators about a conversation she'd had with Allen sometime before his disappearance. They had been discussing the challenges of raising adult children when Allen revealed something sinister.
Allen told Patricia that his son had attacked him. He said the son had waited for him after work one night and tried to club him with something. Allen was visibly shaking as he told the story, his face red with emotion and fear. Patricia asked Allen if he was going to report the attack to the authorities or do something about it. Allen's response was chilling:
"What's to do. I guess at least you know how you are going out of this world, how you are going to die."
When Patricia pressed him about which son he was referring to, Allen confirmed it was Andrew. He was living in fear, but felt trapped and powerless to do anything about it.
Investigators also learned from one of Donna's friends that she too had been afraid of Andrew. The friend testified that Donna had shared something deeply disturbing with her. Donna had read aloud from a letter Andrew had written to her while he was living in Arizona. The letter contained a direct threat:
"If I ever get together enough money to come home, you will all be dead."
Donna had expressed genuine fear for her life and the safety of her family to her friend. Both parents knew their eldest son was dangerous. Both had been threatened by him. Both were afraid of him. But they didn't know how to protect themselves from their own child.
Investigators also learned about the financial situation. Andrew was 29 years old, unemployed, and drowning in tens of thousands of dollars of student loan debt that he had no means to pay back. He had been forced to move back in with his parents. The family estate had a calculated worth of just over half-a-million dollars. If his family members were dead, Andrew would inherit everything.
It was a motive as old as time: greed combined with resentment.
The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. Andrew had a history of violence toward his father—he had literally attacked him with a club. He had openly threatened to kill his entire family. He had the means—access to his family and their home. He had the opportunity—he was the last person to see them alive. He had intimate knowledge of the place where at least one body was found. He had access to the family vehicle, which had unaccounted miles consistent with a trip to North Carolina. And he had a powerful financial motive.
On February 27, 2001, Derek Anderson was indicted for first-degree murder by a North Carolina grand jury. He was charged with killing his father, Allen Krnak. An arrest warrant was issued, and Anderson was arrested at the Milwaukee halfway house where he had been living since his release from federal prison for loan fraud.
But Anderson had no intention of going quietly to face justice in North Carolina. Along with his attorneys, he spent nearly two years fighting extradition. He argued that there was no evidence he had been in North Carolina at the time of the murder, and that Wisconsin had no obligation to send him to face charges in a state where he claimed he had no connection to the crime.
The legal battle was long and fierce. But ultimately, Anderson was brought to Jackson County, North Carolina, in December 2002. He made his first court appearance there in February 2003.
However, in August 2003, Jackson County District Attorney Mike Bonfoey made a surprising announcement. After careful consideration of all the evidence, Bonfoey concluded that there was insufficient proof that Allen Krnak had been murdered in North Carolina. While Allen's body had been found there, the evidence suggested he may have been killed elsewhere—most likely in Wisconsin—and his body transported to the remote forest location for disposal.
The murder charges in North Carolina were dropped. Anderson was taken back to Wisconsin in September 2003, where Jefferson County prosecutors filed charges based on the belief that the crime had actually been committed at the Krnak family home in rural Jefferson County.
In December 2003, Derek Anderson pleaded not guilty to first-degree intentional homicide in the death of his father, Allen Krnak.
The trial would finally begin more than seven years after the Krnak family disappeared. And it would be one of the most challenging cases Wisconsin prosecutors had ever attempted to prove. After closing arguments, the jury deliberated for nearly 24 hours over three days. On Friday afternoon, April 7th, 2006, they returned their verdict: Derek Anderson was found guilty of first-degree intentional homicide in the death of his father, Allen Krnak. He was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. He appealed, but in December 2009, the 4th District Court of Appeals upheld his conviction.
Derek Anderson remains in prison to this day. He has never been charged in connection with the disappearances of his mother, Donna, and his brother, Thomas. Without their bodies, prosecutors felt they couldn't pursue additional charges.
The investigation into Donna and Thomas Krnak's disappearances remains technically open. Their bodies have never been found. They are still listed as missing persons, though most believe they met the same violent end as Allen on that July day in 1998.
Derek Anderson has never revealed what truly happened to his family. He has never confessed. He has never led authorities to his mother's and brother's bodies. He maintains that he is innocent.
But somewhere in the mountains of North Carolina, or perhaps along that 800-mile journey, Donna and Thomas Krnak are still waiting to be found. They deserve to be brought home. They deserve to finally rest in peace.
If you'd like to dive deeper into this case, check out the resources we used for this episode in the show notes.
Don’t forget to follow us on social media for more updates on today's case – you can find us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok and X. We also have a channel on YouTube where you can watch more content.
If you enjoy what we do here at Evidence Locker, please subscribe on Apple Podcasts or wherever you're listening right now and consider leaving us a 5-star review.
This was The Evidence Locker. Thank you for listening!
We recommend upgrading to the latest Chrome, Firefox, Safari, or Edge.
Please check your internet connection and refresh the page. You might also try disabling any ad blockers.
You can visit our support center if you're having problems.