A chilling 911 transcript released by authorities has shed light on the final moments of Zoe Welsh, a beloved North Carolina private school teacher, as she was allegedly attacked in her Raleigh home by a homeless man with a lengthy criminal history. The 43-year-old educator’s last recorded words—”He hit me with a brick”—capture the terror of the January 3, 2026, incident that ended her life, leaving her community in shock and sparking debates over home security and repeat offenders. Ryan Camacho, 36, was arrested shortly after and charged with first-degree murder and burglary, but the release of the call has amplified calls for justice while highlighting the vulnerabilities even in quiet suburban neighborhoods.
Zoe Welsh was a fixture at Ravenscroft School, an elite private institution in Raleigh where she taught middle school English and history for over a decade. Known for her passion for literature and mentorship of students, Welsh was described by colleagues as “vibrant and dedicated,” often incorporating poetry and creative writing into her lessons. A graduate of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, she had built a life centered on education, family, and community service. Welsh lived alone in a modest bungalow on Clay Street, a tree-lined residential area just outside downtown Raleigh, where neighbors rarely locked their doors during the day. On the morning of January 3, that sense of safety shattered.
According to the 911 transcript released by the Raleigh Police Department on January 9, Welsh dialed emergency services at approximately 6:30 a.m., her voice steady but laced with fear. “There’s a man in my house,” she told the dispatcher, providing her address and describing the intruder as a “homeless man” she had seen before in the neighborhood. The call, lasting just over two minutes, paints a harrowing picture of the invasion. Welsh reported the man entering through an unlocked back door, confronting her in the kitchen as she prepared coffee. “He’s coming toward me,” she said, her breathing quickening. The dispatcher urged her to find a safe place, and Welsh retreated to her bedroom, barricading the door.
As the intruder forced his way in, Welsh’s pleas grew desperate. “He’s breaking in—help me!” she cried, followed by sounds of a struggle. Her final words, repeated amid gasps: “He hit me with a brick—he hit me with a brick. I’m on the floor in my bedroom.” The line went silent shortly after, with the dispatcher attempting to reestablish contact. Police arrived within seven minutes, but Welsh was already unresponsive, suffering from severe head trauma. She was pronounced dead at WakeMed Raleigh Campus, with the autopsy confirming blunt force injuries consistent with being struck by a brick found at the scene, covered in blood.
The suspect, Ryan Camacho, was apprehended less than two hours later in a nearby wooded area, disheveled and matching Welsh’s description. Camacho, who has no fixed address, has a criminal record spanning over 15 years, including convictions for assault, larceny, drug possession, and trespassing. Court records show he was released from prison in October 2025 after serving time for a 2023 aggravated assault charge. Neighbors reported seeing him panhandling in the area weeks prior, often near local parks and shopping centers. Police Chief Cassandra Deck-Brown, in a January 4 press briefing, stated, “This appears to be a random act of violence, but we’re investigating all angles.” Camacho has pleaded not guilty, with his public defender arguing mental health issues and homelessness as mitigating factors. Bail was denied, and he remains in custody at Wake County Detention Center, with a preliminary hearing set for February 15.
The 911 call’s release came amid growing public pressure for transparency. Welsh’s family, through their attorney, had requested the audio to “honor her voice and ensure accountability.” The transcript, redacted for sensitive details, was made public via the department’s website, accompanied by a warning for graphic content. Audio versions surfaced on platforms like YouTube, where clips have garnered millions of views, often paired with emotional tributes. One viral video, posted by a local news affiliate, overlays the call with photos of Welsh in her classroom, drawing over 500,000 shares on social media.
Community response has been overwhelming. Ravenscroft School canceled classes on January 5 for a day of mourning, with students and staff gathering for a vigil on the campus quad. Headmaster Doreen Kelly addressed the crowd: “Zoe wasn’t just a teacher; she was a guiding light. Her love for words inspired generations.” A memorial fund in her name has raised over $150,000 for literacy programs in underserved Raleigh schools. Welsh’s poetry, shared posthumously by friends, includes lines like “In the quiet dawn, shadows retreat,” now etched on a makeshift shrine outside her home.
The incident has reignited discussions on homelessness and crime in North Carolina. Raleigh, with a population of over 470,000, has seen a 15% increase in violent crimes linked to transient populations since 2023, per FBI data. Advocacy groups like the North Carolina Coalition to End Homelessness argue for better mental health services, noting Camacho’s history of untreated schizophrenia. “This tragedy highlights systemic failures,” said coalition director Sarah Thompson. “Homeless individuals need support, not criminalization.” Conversely, law enforcement unions have defended the response time, pointing to staffing shortages amid budget cuts.
Politically, the case has drawn attention from state leaders. Governor Roy Cooper issued a statement on January 6: “Zoe Welsh’s death is a heartbreaking loss for our education community. We must address root causes like homelessness while ensuring swift justice.” Republican lawmakers have called for tougher sentencing laws for repeat offenders, citing Camacho’s record. A bill introduced in the General Assembly on January 10 proposes mandatory minimums for burglary involving violence, dubbed “Zoe’s Law.”
Legal experts anticipate a complex trial. Prosecutors, led by Wake County District Attorney Lorrin Freeman, have filed for the death penalty, citing aggravating factors like the home invasion element. Defense attorneys may pursue an insanity plea, supported by Camacho’s psychiatric evaluations. Jury selection could be challenging in Raleigh, where media coverage has been saturation-level. “This has all the makings of a high-profile case,” said former prosecutor Anna Hayes to Fox News. “The 911 call will be pivotal—it’s raw evidence of the victim’s terror.”
Forensic details add layers to the narrative. The brick used in the attack was traced to a nearby construction site, suggesting opportunism rather than premeditation. No fingerprints were found on the door, but DNA evidence from Camacho’s clothing matched Welsh’s blood. Surveillance from a neighbor’s Ring camera captured a figure matching Camacho’s description approaching the home at 6:15 a.m., bolstering the prosecution’s timeline.
Welsh’s personal life offers a poignant contrast to her violent end. Born in Durham, she pursued a master’s in education from NC State, where she met her first husband; they divorced amicably in 2018. Welsh came out as gay in 2020, marrying Becca in a small ceremony in 2022. Becca, a graphic artist, has spoken briefly through her lawyer: “Renee was my everything. This nightmare stole her from us.” The couple had no children together, but Welsh’s three kids from her previous marriage—ages 12, 14, and 16—are now in counseling, supported by community donations.
The broader implications extend to teacher safety. The National Education Association has highlighted increasing violence against educators, with over 300 reported assaults in 2025 alone. Ravenscroft has implemented new security measures, including panic buttons in classrooms. “Zoe’s legacy will be one of resilience,” said a colleague at the vigil.
As the case progresses, public interest shows no sign of waning. True-crime podcasts like “Crime Junkie” have dedicated episodes, dissecting the 911 call for clues. Social media campaigns under #JusticeForZoe have amassed thousands of posts, sharing her poetry and calling for reform. A Netflix documentary is rumored to be in early development.
In Raleigh, the quiet street where Welsh lived now bears flowers and candles, a makeshift memorial drawing daily visitors. Neighbors like Sarah Jenkins told the Raleigh News & Observer, “She waved every morning. Now, we lock our doors.” The haunting words from that 911 call echo as a reminder of vulnerability in everyday life.
Camacho’s next court appearance could bring more revelations. Until then, the Tepe family—wait, Welsh’s family—clings to memories. Her final poem, found on her laptop: “In the brick of dawn, we rebuild.” For a teacher who inspired words, her last ones may inspire change.
